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Interview with El Barrio,
guitarist, singer and songwriter:
"The hardships of working at tablaos
are what help you grow to be able to express yourself as an artist"
Silvia Calado Olivo. Madrid, May 2002
When he was fourteen years old he picked up his guitar and went off into
the big wide world. José Luis Figuereo passed the test on the tablaos circuit
with flying colours, supporting cantaores like Juan Villar or Juana la del Revuelo,
or dancers as well-known as Sara Baras or Antonio Canales. He doesn't deny that
he rebranded himself as El Barrio - inspired by the barrio of Santa María
in Cadiz where he was born - for economic reasons, starting out on a musical career
where traditional flamenco, rock andaluz and personal creativity have stood
side-by-side. "I was sick of being a guitarist and doing what I was told.
I was born to be an artist, but I don't know what kind... maybe I should've been
in a circus with a performing seal!" And this declaration comes in the midst
of the launch campaign for his fifth disc, one which he wanted to make more flamenco
than ever as a tribute to his followers. At the request of the interviewee (who
as we speak is taking an afternoon brunch on the patio of a luxury Madrid hotel,
after one of those nights that just got out of hand) this interview begins with
the famous opening line from Don Quixote, which seemed appropriate: "In a
village of La Mancha, the name of which I have no desire to call to mind... I
was with El Barrio..."
El Barrio
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How much of Santa María's flamenco vibe has El Barrio absorbed?
I was born in calle Botica, in the heart of the barrio de Santa María.
I took the name 'El Barrio' after my birthplace. When you're out in Cadiz and
someone says, "Hey man, let's go down to el barrio" you know they're
talking about Santa María. The story of El Barrio began six years ago with
a demo sent to the Senador label in Seville. They were awe-struck by 'Yo sueno
flamenco' (I sound flamenco) and its fresh sound. And since in those days it wasn't
as tough in the music industry as now, they took the plunge. I was apprehensive
about recording because I'm really shy... they were a little put out - they couldn't
see why I'd sent the demo if I didn't want to record. I decided to record and
to glorify the name of my birthplace. My elders used to tell me there was always
a party going on. It was and still is the definitive barrio flamenco in
Cadiz. Since the docks are just below, it was a crossroads for the people who
were sailing, and it was a crossroads too for anyone trying to make it in flamenco.
Out of those traditional flamenco artists, which ones have influenced you?
From my neighbourhood... you can't listen to Chano Lobato without something
rubbing off on you. But my biggest influence has been Manolo Caracol. I also drank
from the cup of Triana, of Medina Azahara, Alameda... that's how El Barrio came
to be who he is today.
And before you took on the pseudonym El Barrio you accompanied a lot of
cantaores and bailaores as a guitarist...
I've been working as a guitarist all my life. I started playing the guitar
when I was nine and by the time I was eighteen I was playing with big names like
Antonio Canales or Sara Baras at the famous Venta el Gato in Madrid. When I packed
my bags and left home at fourteen I didn't know where I was going. I earned a
crust on the tablao circuit in Cordoba and in Madrid too, I was living day-to-day,
just scraping by. The hardships of the tablaos are what help you grow to be able
to express yourself when you need to, they make you streetwise. People think El
Barrio appeared out of nowhere five years ago, what they don't know is I've been
a guitarist all my life.
And what have you carried forward from that period in the music of El Barrio?
A musical knowledge of the guitar sufficient to write songs, or the ability
to pick up a guitar and know where the song's going... because when I write, I
write music and lyrics at the same time. I don't compose music and write lyrics
separately, I do the two things together. The inspiration comes to me in a flash,
out of the blue. You're taking a walk and a beautiful phrase comes into your head.
A lot of times I haven't had a tape machine or pencil and paper on me and I've
ended up forgetting them... these days it doesn't happen - if I have to ask for
a serviette I do. 'La fuente del deseo' (The fountain of desire) started life
scribbled on the back of a serviette, and from the chorus grew the song, that's
the funniest thing.
You've also been influenced by rock andaluz... who do you think's
stood the test of time from that wave of bands?
Nobody. The only ones who are still going are Medina Azahara, but they're more
hard rock. That era was over when Alaska and los Pegamoides and those type of
groups appeared on the scene. People just forgot - that's stupid, I hate that,
because that could've been a real boom today, using an electric guitar to make
an Andalusian sound. My grandma said they were just kids. And the public never
ceases to amaze you. Maybe I'll sing a little bit of Triana and they sing along.
They recognise it, but they're wise in one way and naïve in another. Those
same people who were singing an amazing Triana tune go home and sing along to
the first catchy singalong tune they hear. Music is music, let's show it some
respect.
The themes you chose for these songs are often about love...
...breaking up, I sing about a lot of things. On this new disc, which is more
flamenco than ever, I even sing a song for my mother. "Madre, me voy al mundo"
(Mother, I'm off out into the world) it's like saying the time has come, son...
I sing a ranchera, which is fun, a ranchera 'por bulerías' like the late
Bambino used to do, he's an idol of mine.
El Barrio receives gold record for 'La fuente del
deseo'
What's the difference between this disc and your previous discs?
It also contains some 'alegrías de Cadiz' which I did with Paco Cepero
because I wanted to look for the authentic old Cadiz sound. This disc is different
because it's more flamenco than ever before, because it was recorded in Cordoba
(I'd always recorded in Cadiz before), and with Queco as producer. We were looking
for a new sound, with a new musical arranger... it's different in so many ways
I couldn't name them all. It's more versatile than any other, it's similar to
the second album, and bear in mind that this is the fifth.
And it's more flamenco because when people go to see El Barrio live and halfway
through the concert I say I'm going to sing a little 'por bulerías', there's
a kind of euphoria, it's like an explosion. People would rather see me sing flamenco
numbers than composed material with voices and that type of stuff. And I've given
my people, my audiences, what they wanted. I thought this disc had to give a little
more of me, from within. And as it happens I'm one of the flamenco artists with
most capacity to fill auditoriums, four or five thousand people at ten dollars
a head. That's really important: when you get to that stage you know you've got
something the audiences want...
Do you think the flamenco that young performers are making should necessarily
have the urban flavour today's artists give it?
The flamenco that's being made these days is bullshit because nobody has anything
to say, they just look for a summery rhythm and a catchy chorus. A song should
have meaning, and if the chorus is catchy, all the better. To do something artistic
you have to stick your neck out. If I sit down and look at the flamenco lyrics
that are coming out now, I don't even know what they're talking about. Everyone's
dislocated. And I'm talking about all of flamenco. Ketama do a good job because
they've been going a long time and they know what's up, but the rest is terrible.
I don't feel comfortable with the scene. And I can hold my head up and say this
because I write my own songs and my own lyrics. Summery tunes are a waste of space
but people are so naïve they think some failed Eurovision song contest contender
with a pretty face is gonna make it... I mean the mediocrity the TV companies
are feeding us is the only thing that holds any influence over the general public
nowadays - and they have us eating out of their hands.
| "At festivals people can put up with seguiriyas or soleás,
but when it comes to tarantos they're off to the bar" |
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Do you think there's hope that the public will wake up to that?
They still haven't realised. Imagine you're an agent and you're negotiating
an El Barrio concert in a town for, say, $18,000. So the mayor of the town is
gonna say to you that for that price he wants a few of the no-hopers whose face
everyone knows from the hit TV talent show 'Operación Triunfo', who only
charge $6000 each. So for the fee I'm asking he'd have three daysworth. And the
TV's king these days. The mayor's got his town full to overflowing and the only
thing he cares about is that they're all crushed together side-by-side with him
at the fiestas. That's the way things are going.
So you don't agree that catchy flamenco is a way to get the young public
into flamenco...
Less and less. People tune in to some Top 40 radio station, learn a chorus and
away they go. At festivals people can put up with seguiriyas or soleás,
but when it comes to tarantos they're off to the bar. There comes a point when
pure flamenco has all but disappeared, I mean I'm a guitarist and I've played
that stuff. It's sad that when a cantaor says he's gonna sing a taranto you can
see the audience start asking each other what the lottery numbers were last night.
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"Some people won't even talk to me because I speak my mind"
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But you are in favour of evolution to keep flamenco alive, aren't you?
If you go out and sing seguiriyas, people get bored. There are those who fight
for purity, I think that's good. But what I do isn't flamenco. I sing flamenco
por tangos, bulerías... I sing flamenco, but what I do is influenced by
rock andaluz with a hint of flamenco. I'm not trying to fool anyone. I like to
talk straight. Some people won't even talk to me because I speak my mind.
With a vision so bleak, what do you see as the solutions, what do you see
as the way forward?
The whole scene has to change, everything from pirate CDs to making music with
a purpose, putting the art back into it, having something to say. Music has to
be made with a purpose, lyrics have to have meaning, and that means more poetry,
more life. They say music is poetry. Flamenco is the most poetic of all.
Creativity is scarce in flamenco lyrics, though...
They get used to a formula and they don't stray from it, they aren't capable
of being creative... And that's the one way to update flamenco, for people to
keep inventing, because if a cantaor just puts a little meaning and some modern
voices into it, maybe audiences will be into it...
And that's when the agent turned up, cellphone in hand, warming up the day's
activities (well, the afternoon's activities, depending how you look at it): "No,
man, not another interview, not now. Tell him I'm busy, tell him I'm painting
the panelling in my bathroom! He'll talk me round and then he'll say OK, let's
go to work..." And that's where I left him with his anti-hangover breakfast,
his charm, his straight talking, fully aware that "if a record company had
to sign me now, with the state the market's in, I'd be in trouble."
revista@flamenco-world.com
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