by Alberto García Reyes
January 2001

Along with el Torta or Salmonete, this "gitano" from the Santiago neighborhood constitutes the foundation of Jerez's festive singing styles. One day he decided to make a recording, and he got together with four of his pals in a hole-in-the wall recording studio in Ubrique. After plenty of barbecue and a drink or two, el Capullo was to shout, "Éste soy yo" (This is me).

The recording seems to be doing well in the market, don't you think?

It was a labor of love. People are taking to it so well because it contains truth. A few of us went to Ubrique, and we recorded some flamenco. Each of us did his part.

Was it hard to plan it all out?

Nah. We did it in one shot. I recorded it in four or five days. Singing is something that you carry around inside you, and, if it comes out right, you've got all that you need. I didn't rehearse anything; I just did what I felt like doing at the moment. That's why all the verse is mine, except for the martinete. The next recording, which I'll be doing next year, is going to be more thought out. I've already got a bulería, because I've got a device that I use for recording my ideas. That way, nothing gets lost.

Your recording shows us the obvious: You're a festero (practitioner of festive styles).

Right. My thing is bulería and tangos, which is what people like. I'm good at soleá por bulería, too, because it's got a certain rhythm that you don't hear too much.

I'm surprised that you don't sing bulerías too quickly. You sing slowly, like the old folks of Jerez.

Yeah, people don't realize that one thing is singing for dancing, and another thing is singing for listening. When you sing for listening, you have to do it right (darle al cante solera), and people have to be able to understand what you're saying. But that's a hard rhythm to keep up.

Did you do the rumba to make the recording a little more commercial?

To tell you the truth, I came up with the rumba on the way to the studio, because there was a full moon. I was with a couple of friends, and I started to hum "la vida es una rutina, ina, ina" and I saw that they started to get into it. That's when I said, "Hey, this has got rhythm." That's the story.

So, apart from singing, you like composing...

My mind always gets to rambling. When I'm out partying for a couple of days, my mind is just out there wandering. For example, the second verse of the tanguillo came to me when I saw that famous eclipse from a way back. It's my way of expressing myself.

Although you never abandon tradition, the only traditional tracks are the martinete-toná and the fandangos.

That's the good thing about it: there's variety. Something for everyone. My neighbor bought the CD and told me, "You sang great por fandangos." The other day, in Granada, an old gitano shouted at me, "You did a great job singing that martinete." There aren't any rules written on preferences, but I try to include something for everyone. It's a very complete recording. The bad thing is that I'm going to have to come up with something even better for the next recording.

There's something in your voice that sounds like Terremoto or Fernanda, for example.

I was part of the "jueves flamencos" with Manuel Morao, and that's where I got started. I've worked with Camarón, Chocolate, la Fernanda... the best in Spain. I was in the streets when I was only 12, and now I'm 47.

You must have done a lot of listening.

Well, I couldn't listen to Torre or Mojama, but I did get to listen to Serna, el Sordera, Terremoto... In any case, I've listened to Torre in recordings that a friend of mine gets for me. That's when you realize that the only thing worth anything is classic flamenco (lo puro), because, sooner or later, modern things are going to go out of style. That's what I like, because I sing very gitano.

But you're not gitano.

No, but the Santiago neighborhood is a big influence, and my mom danced with the gitanos. That's where I get my rhythm from.

What do you think about Periquín's guitar playing?

El Jero is incredible. I'd called up a guitarist from Seville, and I told him, "Put some guitar in there." But he didn't dare do anything. I caught Periquín at a good moment, and he just ate up the bulería. He's played for me since we were kids.

Are you going to give up singing to train a football team?

I was a good player, but I had to make a choice between juerga and football. I realized that playing football takes a lot of preparation, so I chose singing. But I'm still a good player. You'd be surprised.

Well, Capullo, we're going to have to wind this up. As a conclusion, we could say that you've put out a recording with a lot of personality, don't you think?

I always say that singing is like your ID: a photocopy is worthless.

Interview: Alberto García Reyes
Translation: Norman Paul Kliman