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The recording process was overwhelmingly emotional. Chaboli's eyes well up with
tears as he recalls endless anecdotes from those days in the studio. "What
do you say to Alejandro Sanz? I wasn't lucky enough to be in the studio when he
sang. I went into the studio just as he was coming out - that night I'd stayed
up late working on some tracks." Josemi told him that "suddenly Alejandro
turns up and asked if we'd let him sing - everyone was running round like headless
chickens." And as if that wasn't enough, he chose 'Quiero estar solo' (I
want to be alone), whose title Chaboli intended to use for the album: "if
I had to choose one song out of all my father's work it would be that one."
When he heard it, he says he spent "an hour and a half crying over the song...
I was moved to tears by my father's voice, straight from the heart... and that
arrangement." But there was more to come. When he thanked the singer for
his contribution, Alejandro insisted it was he who had to thank them for letting
him take part in the project. " It doesn't matter that we're friends, that
I love and admire him - I mean to have worked on Alejandro Sanz's latest album
is like winning an Oscar for Chaboli - for an artist like him to say those words
to you..." The same goes for Lolita, who "turned up on her day off saying
she was sick and tired of working and wanted to sing. You know, those kind of
things..."
Chaboli (Foto: Daniel Muñoz)
Chaboli was taken aback by the attitude of all those that contributed on the
album, the lack of economic interests: "the musicians came to find out about
Jeros, there was no 'thanks for the fee and I'm out of here'. Quite the reverse
- they arrived and started to set up the drumkit, or tried to put the finishing
touches to a tune, or tried to work out a harmony." And that same effort
was matched by the technicians: "The sound engineers have worked to salvage
every last breath of my father's voice."
And if it was an emotional experience for the visiting artists, it was all
the more so for the resident... "I swear I've never in my life felt what
I felt recording this album. It's a lasting sensation, one that I'll carry with
me until I die. To go into the control booth, put the headphones on and listen
to your father's voice, and to know that you're doing an overdub for him, a guitar,
putting a harmony in here, some percussion there, singing together... to sing
with your father, well you can imagine, you can't put that into words." Tears
were a familiar sight in the studio. "José Miguel was the same, he'd
see me suddenly and he'd have to go outside... and we came back in with our eyes
puffed up." Those tears have broken with superstition and only now Chaboli
feels able to confront the recorded legacy left by his father. "What I enjoy
more than anything else now is to hear people talk about my father. I'm crazy
for any snippet of information about him. I can't resist listening to the master
of my father's unaccompanied vocals over and over again." Emotional catharsis.
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"Jeros is a man who has defined an era, those melodies, the
way those songs make you feel, a lifestyle... people identify with the songs,
we've all grown up with them"
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To ask Chaboli to provide evidence for a musical vindication of the member
of Los Chichos, leaving personal links to one side, isn't easy. "I close
my eyes and I forget that sensitive side. I listen to his songs, analyse his lyrics,
the melodies and everything Jeros did. The conclusion I come to is that he's the
one who contributed ninety percent of that branch of Spanish music that's come
to be known as rumba, flamenco pop, fusion or whatever people want to call it."
He goes even further: "Jeros is a man who has defined an era, those melodies,
the way those songs make you feel, a lifestyle... people identify with the songs,
we've all grown up with them." And his way of observing everyday life: "His
lyrics told stories. I like the ones that are really simple, that you can understand.
Because with today's songwriters, who are amazing, without a doubt, it's a little
hard to understand them." One phrase sums it all up: "this man was able
to express all the emotions anyone could feel in their everyday life, in songs
that are now anthems". There's hardly anybody in Spain who couldn't hum 'Bailarás
con alegría', 'Yo, el Vaquilla', 'Yo quiero a Mai'... the list goes on.
They are, as the song says, "para que tú las bailes... para cantarlas
al viento" (for you to dance to... to sing them to the wind).
revista@flamenco-world.com
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