“If there were no critics, my music wouldn’t
make sense”
by Manuel Moraga
photos: Rafael Manjavacas
His mouth is a piano and his eyebrows, the
curl of an upright bass. The lines of a music staff
go through the whole libretto. These are the graphic
references Pepe de Lucía uses to present his
latest album “Tomo y Obligo” devoted to
Argentine tango. Three cultures are brought together
in this recording: his flamenco sense of interpretation,
the rich back-up of a splended jazz band, and the underpinning,
always in the forefront, of the sentimental universe
of the tango. A record built on classics which, nonetheless,
should not be listened to casually. This is a different
concept from flamenco, from tangos o from jazz…and
from music itself.
You say you used to listen
to your mother sing Argentine tango. Was your house
one of singers?
My mother was the one who sang. I like that “house
of singers”…
I’m referring to the
idea of people who sing anything while carrying out
household tasks.
Yes yes, but remember Manolo Caracol, Pepe Marchena,
Valderrama, la Niña de los Peines….they all
sang their little songs that were fashionable. That’s
not to be taken lightly, it’s the stuff of serious
singers who like anything remotely related to Spanish
or Andalusian popular music. But it’s true, there
was always singing in my house and especially, talking
about this “Tomo y Obligo”, I heard my mother
sing it almost since I was a baby: I was one year old
and I would clutch her black dress and beg her to sing
that tango. Music was a way of life in my family because
we don’t use music to do politics and we don’t
get angry. We say everything feeling the pain, singing
the feeling of being deprived, one way or another. Traditional
flamenco, with feeling and love. It’s the same
thing John Lee Hooker did with the blues for example.
I’ve felt jazz as martinete o tonás, I
mean, I made them flamenco adding my personal touch.
“My knuckles are
worn down from knocking out rhythm since I was a child…without
rhythm, it’s worthless”
Speaking of suffering, if
flamenco channels those feelings, what emotions do you
get from tangos?
The Argentine tango is tremendous, but I’m not
a tango singer, I’m a flamenco singer. My feelings
are uniquely and exclusively flamenco. I don’t
sing tangos or jazz, and yet I’m able to understand
this music because flamenco overlaps with many kinds
of music. For example, it shares similarities with Cuban
and Argentine music thanks to a lot of back and forth
between merchants. We have the so-called “ida
y vuelta” cantes. And as far as jazz or blues,
which come from black African music, if we look at John
Lee Hooker, I see a flamenco singer in him. When he
sang, he carried the rhythm with his foot, and I do
the same thing, with my hand or a hammer. There are
many similarities between this kind of root music, but
rhythm is what most unites the origins of popular music.
All pop music tends to meld together thanks to commercial
exchange, mixtures and rhythm. The tango came to Madrid
thanks to La Goya, who sang Spanish popular music, and
she was the first one to sing those tangos in Madrid.
Popular music tends to have
humble, not intellectual origins.
Yes, from humble or downtrodden people. In the era of
the “cafés cantantes” there was so
much poverty and hunger, they even say that some famous
stars were prostitutes in order to get by. Marchena
once said that a siguiriyas singer always has a patch
in the seat of his pants. Just think of what that one
sentence means. They were years of hunger, with almost
nothing to live on. But I chose to understand that sentence
another way – if you’ve already learned
the cantes, what better path than to keep doing new
things? Always going back to the humble origins of the
music – thanks to tangos, middle-class couples
who weren’t so well-off could dance embraced.
Is that humble origin of
flamenco what makes it music from the heart, not from
the head?
Without any doubt. You know that neither I nor Paco
read music, just like most flamenco artists. It’s
intuition, heart and brains, but most of all, heart.
The rhythm is fundamental. Look at my knuckles, they’re
worn down from knocking out rhythm since I was a child.
Without rhythm, it’s worthless. You do siguiriyas
or tientos, and maybe it’s really heartfelt, but
if you don’t have compás, the flamencos
will tell you it isn’t worth a thing.
“I can’t
live without music. It’s the basis of my life,
it’s everything”.
And
has Pepe de Lucía gone through life head-first
or heart-first?
Unfortunately, heart-first. I’m very disorganized,
my head isn’t screwed on tight. I want to laugh,
I’m very naive and irresponsible. Not as much
as before, because you learn over the yeras, but I’m
not a cautious sort, and I’m not a machine.
You get the feeling that
“Tomo y Obligo” isn’t a hybrid, but
that your flamenco interpretation is always there, the
arrangements are jazz-style but the ultimate identity
is a tango. Everything in its place.
Exactly, it’s not a hybrid. Nowadays there’s
a lot of mixing and matching, hybrid fusion, but on
this record I’m completely honest and I apologize
if I’ve shown any disrespect to tango singers,
but I think Gardel would have said “ole!”,
because I’m bringing the ball into my own court,
to this special way of feeling and I think it all comes
together quite well because the tango is very passionate,
just like flamenco. When it was proposed o me I thought
it was a good idea and I think some really nice work
came out of this, dignified and important.
And full of music…
I love music, it’s my obsession. I can’t
live without music. It’s the basis of my life,
it’s everything.
Has jazz always had a broader
vision than flamenco?
Today flamenco is in the best moment of its entire history.
When I was young, we were all in the tablaos. All the
great stars have done tablaos and now that’s where
you least see them. Now it’s auditoriums, theaters
and all the large venues that didn’t used to be
open to us. Flamenco is better than ever and we owe
it all to young flamenco artists, fusion, “flamenkito”.
The record is dedicated to
your mother and to your son.
My dear Lucía, my Portuguese mother, she’s
the one who used to sing “Tomo y Obligo”.
And my little boy Pepe who will be two in a few days.
My mother taught me about
fraternity, togetherness, strength…
What do you always remember
about your mother?
She taught me about fraternity, togetherness, strength,
her perpetual smile, her affectionate way, her sense
of humor…
What would you like your
son to learn from you?
I’d like him to be a good artist, so the dynasty
could continue, even with all the complications of this
profession.
In an interview with your
brother Ramón, he spoke about mornings at your
house when your father used to arrive with the flamencos
he’d been with all night, exhausted. Your mother
would give them breakfast…
They even used to wake us up so we could be with them,
even if it was the middle of the night. Antonio El Chaqueta
would sit me on his knee and we’d sing and play
guitar and just have a good time. Once we were listening
to Niño Ricardo for three days while he told
us stories and played the guitar.
Nowadays, when people live
better than ever before, do you think something of that
generosity has been lost?
Without a doubt, we flamencos need to be more unified.
We ought to speak better of one another and respect
each other more.
As you know from firsthand
experience, flamenco artists are sometimes criticized
if they do music other than siguiriya or soleá…
If there were no critics, my music wouldn’t make
sense. It wouldn’t serve any purpose. It’s
just like compás. You and your colleages are
the rhythm, for better or for worse. Bad criticism is
just as constructive as good.
“I don’t sing
tangos or jazz, and yet I’m able to understand
this music because flamenco overlaps with many kinds
of music”
Are you as demanding when
someone produces your record as when you’re the
producer?
I’m just as demanding. I drive Capi crazy because
I say “I don’t like it, I want to do it
over!” I like to put out a dignified product,
because it’s a lot of work no matter what. And
now I just finished a recording with Manuel Cuevas and
was very demanding, I really gave the guy a hard time.
Do you think he dislikes
you?
No, but there are a few people who get to hate me and
who are even reluctant to record with me again. But
that’s how I am and the work I’ve done speaks
for itself, like Potito’s “Andando por los
Caminos” which is there for everyone to see.
In actual fact, you seem
to have a nose for smelling out success, how is that?
I don’t know. Maybe my father taught me that sixth
sense. My father put out the Chichos, Camarón,
the Sorderas, Juan Villar and…well, I could go on
and on…
You’ve also helped
many artists.
Yes… Tijeritas, Potito, José el Francés,
La Susi…I made Marina Heredia’s first recording,
just as I did with Capullo, Macanita, el Torta…
Give me one reason why a
tango fan should listen to your record.
Well, they called me from Radio Caracol in Argentina
to congratulate me.
What about a flamenco fan…what
can a flamenco follower get from this record?
I’ve also heard some people say that flamencos
like it because there are lots of tasty details.
One last observation about
the record…
When I make a record I’m not thinking about myself,
but of the person who’s going to hear it, they
have to enjoy it. If not, I wouldn’t do it. I
can assure you, if I didn’t think a recording
of mine was going to come out good, I wouldn’t
go on like this, because it wouldn’t even be honest
or dignified.
