A Night at the Willie Clancy Summer Festival

The night was dark but not full of terrors. On the contrary, this was one of the best moments of my entire life. Everything you fancy in Ireland was there, and more: beer, Irish music, a packed dim pub and laughs with one-night friends. This could be a summing up of that night, though it would not give a fair account of the overall magical feel.

This actually may be the kind of nights rather common to most people – you know, outgoing, happy, normal people. But to me, the whole context made it a time and place that were in perfect harmony, and that will resonate with me until my last breath. You see, I had been traveling on my own in Ireland for a week then, and I had still a good three weeks ahead. I had left my family cocoon to go explore the unknown (it was neither Iraq nor Siberia, but you know, for 19-year-old me it was already a lot for a first lone travel), so I had still not gotten the knack of the whole unsettling traveling experience, how to endure loneliness in a place you’ve never been to before and quickly make it your own.

This Willie Clancy Festival is held annually since 1973 in memory of the piper Willie Clancy and takes place in the beautiful little seashore village of Miltown Malbay, County Clare, in the more traditional West of Ireland. This festival attracts people from over the world for its renowned traditional music Summer School, Scoil Samhraidh Willie Clancy, the largest of the country. It offers a full program of lectures, recitals, dances, exhibitions and many cultural workshops during that week. So, I ended up in this festival (which I highly recommend) because I was actually carrying out a research on Irish traditional music and its link to collective war memory in the country – so it seemed pretty relevant to go spend a few days over there.

But the night. For starters, that night was also the first time I went into a bar on my own. I plucked up my courage, left my dorm bunk bed and told myself I would have a decent night, even if there was no one I could hang out with in my dorm. Once in the street, I just played it by ear and went into one of the many pubs of the village. I dived into the mass of people already in the Players’ Club, ordered a can of cider, and just listened. It was 7 in the evening, and by 9 the pub was really, really packed. I still wonder how we all fitted in there. But never mind, the music was very entertaining and filling me up with plain, innocent joy.

Then and there I met a little bunch of people, themselves musicians. We started chatting, drunkenly gaily, and we ended up spending the whole evening together. Once we managed to get hold of a booth, they just started playing – me, right in the middle of this, happy and tipsy as ever. Never had I thought I would be at the very heart of an improvised Irish music band!

At three o’clock they left, and I stayed there, in the Players’ Club. You know, people always say how great it is to be able to live and share your experiences with your friends. But you know what? Sometimes it is just as good to be selfishly alone to live them. When you are by yourself, all of your senses are alert, and you really are a 100% in the moment, no “parasite” around you. Of course it also depends on the kind of experience and people you’re with too. But on that very moment, I am just thankful my body and soul were a 100% present, because my memory has now printed it in forever.

The dim light of the pub, in contrast with the loudness of the crowded room’s laughs and cheers, the smell of spilled beer, the damp hotness, the players in the corner playing relentlessly for eight hours… The repetitive and cheerful aspect of Irish traditional music surely played a great part of this transcending night’s feeling. Quite complex to master, it gives the impression of being easily played though. It is a kind of music ever so delightful; its repetitions make it easy to understand it, and to take root in the place and moment you’re in somehow. Recorded Irish music is never half as magical and entertaining as it is live, for it is not made to be a commercial product: it is truly something to be lived.

On that night, everything just made perfect sense. The people seemed to be one with the music, although in a simple manner – no need for an obvious trance or whatever. Transcendence is not just for religious people, pot smokers or Jehovah’s Witnesses. It does not have to be linked to martyrdom or Tibetan-like meditation. I do believe it is also practiced, through another way – and even though they don’t call it that – by down-to-earth people who are just having a beer with friends and enjoying fine music that has been their legacy for generations, in good times and in bad; that very music which is the heart and soul of their country.

This article was written for this blog only.

Live review @ The Blue Note, NYC: Terence Blanchard, Ravi Coltrane + Gerald Clayton Trio

Thursday 8th January, New York

In the dimly lit dark blue room, a cocktail in hand, all of us in the audience were waiting for the band to appear on stage. Groundbreaking names, a legendary venue, a historical jazz festival: indeed the night was promising a lot, and it did live up to the expectations.

Located in Greenwhich Village, NYC, the Blue Note has been a focal point of the jazz world since its creation in 1981, and thus has received the likes of Dizzy Gillespie, Oscar Peterson, Tito Puente, Chick Corea and many others. The quintet has been playing at the club for five days straight as part of the Monterey Jazz Festival, the longest continuously running jazz festival in the world that also has an educative year-round mission through many local to international tours across the continent.

Here they met for this night: world-renown trumpeter Terence Blanchard and saxophonist Ravi Coltrane, Monterey award-winning pianist and musical director Gerald Clayton, and two rising stars of the jazz scene: Joe Sanders on bass, who has already played with Herbie Hancock and Wayne Shorter to name only those two; and Justin Brown on drums, a UC Berkeley graduate who has worked with Kenny Garrett and Stefon Harris. At one point during the performance, I was so entranced by his solo that I even forgot to take notes, which just shows how captivating he can be.

The crew arrives on stage, and starts right away with one of Blanchard’s compositions. Shifting measures from duple to triple time ones and fast-paced, this track asserts itself without notice. The trumpet solo Blanchard gives us recalls Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov’s famous Flight of the Bumblebee somehow, in its mastery of light and seemingly easy velocity.

“Jazz is about being a bad ass motherfuck*r”, Blanchard once said during a summer course at the University of Virginia a few years ago. But he has also recently turned to Buddhism in recent years. This open-mindedness and eclectism transpires in his playing: cocky but mastered, risky but confident and poised – balanced, but unbalanced enough to push limits a little further every time.

Then follows a tenor saxophone solo by Coltrane. Although he does not look too happy with his reed, his free jazz style is enjoyable and is cleverly backed by drummer Brown, whose accents are not too strong or invasive but audible enough to be noticed – in short, a perfect attention to detail.

Clayton’s solo is darker and calmer, like the obscure sea retiring after a stormy weather. The actual Clayton Trio play for a little while – that is, piano, drums and bass – and we can just feel that they know each other well musically speaking. Brown knows very well what Clayton likes and tries to drag him along further, pushes him gently, and indeed it works out perfectly. The symbiosis is complete. The solo gets into a light Latin groove, before they all come back together on the theme, ending in a happy and messy, but coherent hubbub.

After a classical jazz transition, Clayton continues on playing to introduce one of his compositions from his last A Life Forum album. The drums join the piano softly, playing only on the edge of the snare drum at first, giving a rather traditional, rhythmic feel in the same vibe as Avishai Cohen Trio.

Trumpet and tenor saxophone then have a calm but very convincing dialogue, where they echo each other at times, playfully intertwining their arguments. But the musical climax arrives; we can just feel the tension in the whole room – they’re losing their minds in an elaborate Aristocats-like festival, for our greatest pleasure.

What is truly interesting in attending a concert is that not only you get the sound experience – in its most unique form, for it is real at that present time only – but you also get the physical experience. You belong to a physical audience, feeling what it feels and absorbing the music; and you get to observe how the music is done before your very eyes, and how the musicians interact. It is just so enjoyable to watch the band members smile at one another, obviously enjoying their playing together; to notice that Sanders at the bass took off his shoes and is now playing in plain socks; or to see the eye contact Clayton and Brown make when playing together, the latter supporting the former’s solo in the most perfect way possible.

A presentations break sprinkled with anecdotes and humor takes place, in which I particularly appreciate the fact that Blanchard praises Coltrane’s own talent for itself, without making any direct cause-effect link with his famous father. Indeed it would be an easy thing to do, just as many journalists actually do, including myself. But while it may hold some truth, it is important to regard the artist for who he/she is and for his talent and work, before making any quick and handy connections that could incidentally degrade his/her own value as a unique performer.

A gentle bass and drums duo then starts, soon joined by the trumpet and saxophone, all the while very soft and tender. The rhythm begins to take another shape, more undulating on a waltz-like pattern. Tone modulations then add themselves, giving yet another color to the mood before it goes into a coherent inferno: Clayton’s genius in composition can clearly be felt again.

But now comes the time of the Clayton Trio: Blanchard and Coltrane get off stage to let them play. On this light-hearted and uncluttered music, Sanders gives a wonderful bass solo – we just don’t get enough of those! The whole track is very intense and puts you in a good, adventurous mood. Brown using the edge of the cymbals recalls a Japanese music-like feeling, very soothing… up until the surprising energetic end of the track. This was a very convincing showcase of the trio’s creative concord indeed.

And last but not least, the band comes together for a fast-paced track full of give-it-all-for-the-end! solos. We finally get to hear Coltrane playing the soprano saxophone that we’ve been staring at all night long in expectation! He gives a very be-bop, enthusiastic playing – it seems he cannot stop anymore. He really gets carried away in inspiration, giving us a very nice memory to end the concert with. Clayton follows, giving a balanced solo, surprising in its regularity and classic structure but exceedingly splendid. As we all expect in delight, it all ends with a bang like a happy firework grand finale, leaving us with star-filled eyes.

This article appeared on AAAmusic.co.uk.

The Myth of a Post-Racial Society

The American myth of a “post-racial society” has gotten several blows recently. After the deaths of Eric Garner in July and Michael Brown last August and the controversial court decisions relevant to both cases, the African American community of the United-States is angry, as it should be. The concerns raised by these recent events push, once again, for a debate – and actions – about racism in America.

The reality is that the fate of all working class and middle class African Americans is no better than before: there is no proof of any advancement in mentalities and institutions of a less racist society. Although racism knows no rational frontiers, it does prevail – at its utmost violence – in the lower fringes of society, in which people have no social power, nor political representation. This is what recent events have shown.

This statement can actually extend to the whole of the working class, regardless of race. Indeed some say that the black community “makes” these events racial because they’re “just looking for a reason to riot and loot” – and fair enough, statistics are not very revealing, the factors and variables taken into account varying from one source to the other. But to go further, we can also well say that stop-and-search practices, more targeting minorities, inevitably show them more in records, since they are therefore numerically higher from the start in the variables – a long-known problem making statistics to be treated with great care.

Here is a sad truth that statistics could not explain more intelligently, as told to me by Nick, a young ex-NY policeman who preferred not to divulge his last name: “I decided to leave my job with the NYPD because the department’s command was going in a direction that I really didn't agree with. The New York Police Department has 40,000 officers… it's huge… and I was just a number in their system.”

“I felt like a lot of what they are doing violates the rights of the people and I no longer felt like I was "protecting and serving" the people of New York. I felt like a storm trooper from Star Wars: we were doing nothing but abusing the citizens. I was told to stop people at random and pat them down for weapons or drugs, especially minorities, even if they did nothing wrong.”

“I spoke to my Captain and my superiors about how it didn't feel right and I was just told "do your job, or someone else will". It felt terrible leaving, but my integrity as a person is more important than any job I will ever do. I used to feel like I was doing something good and noble… America is changing, and it isn't good.”

We should not have had to go as far as having murders to see that the American police forces have a problem of dealing with the population. It is by looking away for too long that such tragic events have been able to occur in our democracy – and by ignoring History. For racism is a social construct, and as all social inventions and practices, it can change through time. Remember that black lynchings were happening not so long ago.

There was also a time where the Greeks of America were prey to racism and harassment for their “Oriental” features and ways of living: back in the 1910s, at the time of the large wave of immigration from Southeastern Europe on the one hand, and from the rural slave American states on the other, Greeks and blacks had more in common than one would think today. 

Greeks back in the days were not considered white, but swarthy if not black. The frustration borne out of the bigotry they endured led some Greek-Americans to found the AHEPA, the American Hellenic Educational Progressive Association, which could be considered the equivalent of the black NAACP, the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People. The AHEPA, created in 1922, fought stereotypes and abuse of Greek immigrants and Americans of Hellenic descent, and helped them assimilate into the American society.

Greeks were notably politically and economically harassed by the Ku Klux Klan which, as is too easily forgotten today, was extensively powerful throughout Northern America at that time. In 1990, the AHEPA and the NAACP even worked hand in hand in Georgia for a law banning the wearing of masks by KKK members, in order “to protect the public from intimidation and violence and to aid law enforcement officials in apprehending criminals”.

Greeks have now become white and, although having their little cultural eccentricities (for those who like to exhibit them), they are accepted and considered as well-assimilated in the American society. Race, as a concept, is social, and race evolves. Race as applied to African Americans has also evolved through time: there is no more slavery; laws for more proportionality have been enforced in schools and universities, and there is no more institutionalized segregation as in the time of the Jim Crow laws.

This does not mean that we are in a “post-racial” society though – otherwise such reforms would be useless. Blacks (and women) are still under-paid, and black children do not have the same opportunities from the beginning of their life as white children, starting from school districts. Of course the same divide is true for working classes and higher classes regardless of race – a concept not addressed enough in our country, where indeed sometimes we tend to blame racism too much and not enough social disparities.

In any case, merely saying that our society is “post-racial” does not make it so – the very fact that we feel the need to say it proves that it is still a concern. This is an illusion reinforced by the fact that the American president is black, but does that mean that the African American community is better off than before? Politics remain politics, Congress remains Congress, interests remain interests, and a President remains a President, with all its power and constraints at the same time. Whoever our President, whatever his color, America remains a deeply divided society, both socially and racially. Let us just hope that no more murders will have to occur before we address these issues wisely.

Published in The National Herald, December 25, 2014, "Viewpoints" section p.13

Thassos, the Aegean Emerald

Forget Athens and the Cycladic islands: GO THASSOS! You'll find this remote piece of heaven easy to fall in love with.

Being part of the not-so-touristy North-Eastern part of Greece, the Macedonian island of Thassos is not very well-known although conveniently close to the coast. You can either cross from Keramoti, near Kavala International Airport, or take a longer boat trip from the harbor city of Kavala which is worth the visit - and where I have tasted the best frappé ever, I cannot emphasize that enough. A 2,5-hour bus ride from Thessaloniki will take you there easily.

Thassos is the Northernmost island in Greece, making it a green spot remote from the beautiful but sun-dried Southern landscape. Instead, Thassos offers the same clean and clear-blue sea together with dense and varied forests: although in recent years the island’s woodland has suffered some forest fires, it is still known for its pine trees – what a wonderful scent all over the place – and shrubberies near rivers and lakes.

Again, spring is the best season to go there as the nature then reveals its magic at its full potential. What is more, a heavy tourism from East Europe, Russia and England can be felt during the two hottest months of summer; but in underrated Thassos, it is easy to enjoy the warm climate of June or September while being the only stranger on the island: I was literally the first and only resident of the whole hostel I was in. 

Once landed in the island capital also named Thassos, or Limenas Thassou (“harbor of Thassos”), I take the time to go to its little and very well arranged museum. Going through the History of this tiny Empire in a nutshell, it tells how Thassos was known for its fine products such as nuts and white marble – a great stone and marble wall had been encircling the harbor against intruders. But most of all, Thassos was famous for its fruity wine so particular that the wine god Dionysus’ head was engraved on Thasian coins.

But the island was also a major commercial and political spot owing to its large gold and silver mines. It naturally attracted the interest of colonizers: Phoenicians, Greeks – from the Cycladic island Paros or Athens’ central power –, Romans, Byzantines, Ottomans... Not that Thassos complied easily. It sometimes even fought quite honorably for its independence; but as often times with islands, rebellions were crushed by the main power of the day.

Coming back out in the sun, multiple options are open to me: go into the ancient agora right next to the museum? Wander a little further and have a nice meal in a restaurant along the historical harbor? Take a walk up into the small and pretty pedestrian streets and bushy hill to end up on top of the city’s ancient theater, offering a splendid view of the sea and the city below? Or go the beach just at the end of the port, where you can swim in clear-blue waters beneath shadowy pine trees? Tough choice.

Going further South, on the Eastern coast lies the “Golden Beach”: a whole kilometer of white-sanded beach against a backdrop of mountainous forest, waiting for towels to be spread, sand-castles to be built and photos to be taken. There are many hotels and camping places nearby – both denaturing and convenient. It is the most famous beach of the island, but Thassos is surrounded by beautiful spots and walks anyway, thus offering plenty of alternatives.

There are other historical sites spread throughout the island as well: on the South-Eastern part of it, the Monastery of Archangel Michael sits on the road between the villages of Astrida and Alyki, with a beautiful view of the sea; nearby is the worthwhile archeological site of Alyki, on the coast also named the “Holy rock of Thassos”; and on the South-Western coast, Limenaria offers the earliest settlement to have been explored, with remains from the Middle and Late Neolithic.

My tenant back in Limenas Thassou, who has been absolutely lovely and helpful, advised me to go to Prinos’ market when going back by the Western side. Taking place on Monday mornings, it is in fact a regular street market, but as everywhere else in Greece it is indeed something worth the trip. Whether it be for the low prices and juicy, sundrenched fruits, or just for the ambience with people chatting and sellers barking their deals, the Greek market is

 never a boring experience.

Back in the capital to take the last ferry – there won’t be any seagulls following the boat at that time, too bad – I enjoy a last walk along the harbor. Even at night the water is warm, and so clear that I can see the rocks on the bottom with my own shadow projected by the distant city lights.

Article published in The National Herald on October 10, 2014

GoGo Penguin - v2.0, Deluxe Edition

Hot on the heels of their Mercury Prize nomination, GoGo Penguin re-released their v2.0 album in a Deluxe Edition last month, including three bonus tracks for our greatest pleasure.

The album had already been a very good showcase of the trio’s harmonious symbiosis between pianist Chris Illingworth, drummer Rob Turner and bassist Nick Blacka. Each member brings his own touch, and the album thus becomes a very peculiar and attractive mix of jazz, electronic dance and classical music. From darkness to light, from dream to reality, this album is simply a beautiful ode to the experience of life as seen through the eyes of these musicians.

The three bonus tracks go along the same lines, always making you want more of that good stuff. First ‘Break’ starts soberly with faint piano, before the bass comes along and they both play in low-key notes. This track is also characteristic of the album’s depiction of a certain solitude with which you can easily identify; a feeling of something that can never be reached somehow. It certainly is the kind of music that makes you get some perspective on (your) life. But the players do get more playful and intense, as if to say the more the merrier. This ambivalence between solemnity and playfulness is quite a recurring winning ingredient in GoGo Penguin’s work.

It goes on with the second bonus track ‘In Amber’, the first track the band wrote completely together. Its title was inspired by a book by Kurt Vonnegut where he describes us all as ‘trapped in the amber of the moment’ in reference to time happening all at once rather than in a linear fashion. Here the introducing bass, the piano and the drums – each play in a reassuring calm and mighty way, indeed as if time had stopped. At half-time though it’s a whole other mood: fast-paced and urgent, with a feeling of unreliability coming in contrast with the first half of the track, and enhanced by the background irregular rhythms. But it ends more peacefully, almost sadly, with a lonely bass, following the same musical pattern as in the beginning: we find back this idea of circle of life present throughout the entire album.

To end with, ‘Wash’ begins with grave piano and bass, very economical in their play. But a more positive mode follows with the use of major chords; it does feel as if you’d washed yourself of all your sins, making a hopeful fresh start. GoGo Penguin leave us here with a rather feel-good track, one you can listen to if ever you feel bumped or are not sure of where you’re going in life: this will give you drive again!

This article appeared on AAAmusic.co.uk.

Interview: Diego Barber and Rebeca Vallejo

Spanish guitarist Diego Barber, navigating between jazz and classical music, was born in a family of musicians. He has been living in New York for 7 years now, playing with great artists like Mark Turner or Jeff Ballard, and he has recently released his fourth album Tales. Spanish singer Rebeca Vallejo was also born in a musicians’ family, in which they have been Flamenco singers for generations. She has now been living in New York for 14 years, and also released her recent third album, Azúcar Canela. I chatted to them ahead of their concert opening “The Flames” festival, the first of its kind in NYC, at Cornelia Street Café.

Hi! So you are both from Spain, and have both lived/toured in many countries, to finally end up in New York City… How did you two meet?

Diego: We have both been living here for several years, but we never met before! She is the one who called me actually.

Rebeca: I needed some acts for the series of Flamenco Fusion concerts I am organizing with the Consulate General of Spain in NY, and a friend of mine actually told me about him, so I listened to his music and I found he was great! I liked the fact that he did not sound “too” Spanish right away: he has first a classical sound and from that, he manages to bring out a classical Flamenco spirit. So I called him in June. Unfortunately he was not there for the summer session of 15-17 August, since he was touring in Europe; but he has been able to come for this Fall session so that’s great. He is a great musician and a wonderful person.

Diego, you have recently released the album Tales with Craig Taborn, last March. Would you like to say a few words about it?

 

Diego: Sure! I am very happy that it is finally released. It was a new thing for me because it was the first time I played in duo.

Yes, it’s not common to have a guitar-piano duo.

Diego: No it’s not! So the recording was not easy, guitar and piano have two very particular sound and since they can both play several voices, it takes some time to write something that works, and then adjust the two sounds when recording so that the whole will not be too confusing. So yeah, I’m really happy with it!

Where was your last concert?

Diego: I’m actually just coming back from a tour in Europe, for this album’s promotion. My last concert was in Valencia in Spain, in July. It was for a music festival, where I also taught classes – usually when I go to Europe it’s actually more to teach classes than for concerts.

And do you compose all of your songs?

Diego: Yes!

What about you Rebeca, you also have recently released an album I believe, Azúcar Canela, with George Dulin and David Silliman.

Rebeca: Yes I did! It took some time, but you know, I like to picture an album as a stew: all the elements need to cook for a long time, to mix well with each other, and then when the stew is ready you can record the album.

Did you compose the songs?

Rebeca: Yes, some of them I had even written 14 years ago. I carry a notebook with me all the time, it’s like my Bible; and when I looked through it, through what I had written a long time ago, by reading the lyrics their melodies came back to me. As for the production of the album in itself, it lasted from February to August. And actually… the pianist on this album is a substitute for the original one, Emilio Solla. He was so great that I decided to keep him…! But Emilio did not take it bad haha, and he is even one of my guest artists on the album, so we’re on good terms!

How long have you been living in NYC, actually?

Diego: Mh, seven years now.

Rebeca: Fourteen for me!

And how do you find life like here compared to Spain?

Diego: Well you know, the usual: in Spain life is more relaxed, the weather is always good… But for now, I prefer NYC because there is a lot of music and cultural events going on. In Spain, for Flamenco music, it’s the top, for sure – but there is not much more else… While here you have everything, every kind of music is represented. But I guess what I miss the most is my family and friends, and the language.

Rebeca: Oh, NYC and Spain are completely different worlds! Every time I cross the ocean, the cultural shock always strikes me. But that’s the advantage of being a musician: we have the possibility of traveling a lot, and for that NYC is a good basis.

What country you’ve played in has provided you with the best experience and memory?

Rebeca: For me it’s Belgium, definitely. When I go there, in the Flemish part, it reminds me of Spain – after all they also have been under Spanish rule in the Middle Ages, so I guess the Spanish roots are still there. There really is a Spanish spirit. And the Flemish public is so enthusiastic… I really have a special connection with Belgium.

Diego: I would have to say Germany. Well I like NYC too, but you know… I’ve studied in Germany, and people have a lot of respect for music and musicians over there. In Spain, being a musician is nothing; in Germany, it’s almost like being a doctor you know… And there is a strong culture of classical music over there. Basically when people go to a concert, it’s not to eat and have some entertaining music on the background or whatever; it’s really to listen to music.

When we say “flamenco” and “guitar”, we automatically think about the great artists Camarón de la Isla, Tomatito and Paco de Lucía. Have they influenced your work?

Rebeca: Of course, big time! Right from the beginning. I am also greatly influenced by Brazilian singer Elis Regina and Ella Fitzgerald. But for Flamenco, Camarón is and will ever be the best. I grew up listening to him; my grand-father was constantly singing him. In my family we have been Flamenco singers for several generations, so Flamenco is really a great part of me that I cannot deny. Seven years ago I was too afraid of it, but now I have accepted it and let my nature express itself.

What do you mean by “you were afraid”?

Rebeca: Well, Flamenco is a very emotionally intense music, and very complex to master. I was afraid to not be up to it, to not have everything needed to understand and sing it correctly. Jazz is complex as well, and also challenging – but for me, it was less of a challenge than Flamenco.

What about you Diego, how long have you been into music?

Diego: I received my first electric guitar when I was around 8 or 9, but I started learning classical guitar only when I was 18, so it is very late. It was difficult for me, because all the other students had already started from an early age, so I had to work even harder…!

Well it turned out pretty fine! Which music genre would you say you like the most, classical or jazz?

Diego: I think it’s 50/50, but it also depends on where I am. Here I think I tend to like classical more… because I am surrounded by jazz all the time here, you have all these great jazz players in NYC; it is kind of a rebellious position as well. But if I were in Germany, I guess I would say that I like jazz best, because I would be in a more classical environment! In any case though, my background is very much classical.

What are your aspirations for the future?

Rebeca: As for me, for my last album we’ve been touring in the East Coast, sponsored by the Spanish Embassy, but we are now working on a tour in California. Trying to go West, where I haven’t been yet!

Diego: Well I am hoping to record a new album with a quartet by January. I want it to be a bit different, with an electric bass player, and maybe some electronic elements as well… I think the release should be around March, hopefully!

This interview appeared on AAAmusic.co.uk.