A conversation with Santiago Auserón

Originally published in the print edition of El Cultural (06/05/2016)

These are dog days, I think, as the photographer takes our picture as a memento on the terrace of Santiago Auserón (Zaragoza, 1954). The raindrops falling from the gray mid-April sky splash the musician's impeccable, slightly mirrored suit and dampen his hair, styled in a slight 20th-century pompadour. We've been at his residence on the outskirts of Madrid for three hours now, and almost all of that time has passed sitting at a round, fine-wood table in a dining room next to the kitchen, at the dizzying speed of a conversation that, carried by his words, travels between distant galaxies interconnected by the wormholes of language. Electric ideas, like the storm that gave rise to this rain that now falls upon us.

In this time, it hasn't taken me long to understand that sitting down to talk with Auserón isn't like talking to Juan Perro, the reinvented singer-songwriter of the Anglo-Latin street scene, nor with the leader of the legendary Radio Futura. It's not talking to one of the most significant and solid songwriters in contemporary Spanish-language pop. Most of the time, in fact, talking to him isn't talking to a musician at all. Even when he's talking about music, you hear glimpses of history and languages, of philosophy and politics.

This encounter takes place on the periphery of ideas and notions, in the lesser-known outskirts where, alongside the musician, appears a rhythmic witness: the one who studied with Deleuze in Paris in the late 70s, the one who has written books tracing the history of black rhythms and their influence on our music and a few months ago obtained his doctorate cum laude In Philosophy, he who does not hesitate to defend the politics that Podemos represents.

The lively conversation is sparked by the interest generated by the songs he is currently composing and, above all, by the new tour that is starting and, on some of its dates, will become the Vagamundo project where he will be heard with orchestral accompaniment.

Ask.- His last album was Juan Perro & la Zarabanda (The Sound Footprint, 2013). How does one jump from the volatile, streetwise saraband to the more settled and academic symphony?

Answer.- With the utmost respect for both classical and contemporary sounds, which I came to as a restless rocker from the world of progressive and electronic music, I wasn't raised on classical music, but rather on the Black musical heritage. However, with age, one comes to understand, and now classical music is just another temptation. I enjoy learning as an amateur, although I don't feel a vital need to break into the classical music world. That need arises from the current cultural climate. Fortunately, orchestras and concert halls with resident orchestras have proliferated in various cities. Unfortunately, the classical repertoire doesn't attract a large enough audience to sustain them. The classical music circuit seeks out certain popular artists to reinterpret their work with an orchestral sound; I'm happy to do this and strive to ensure that the most select pieces in my repertoire can be performed with dignity. It's a challenge I'm using to relaunch my creative endeavors. I don't want my pieces to sound like standards; I'd like to give them a contemporary touch. My references for tackling Vagamundo are some classically trained musicians who have approached popular music, such as Kurt Weill, Bernstein, Mancini or Rota.

The memory of music

Q.- At certain times, classical tradition draws on the adaptation of rhythms of more ancient, popular origin, such as the zarabanda or the chacona.

R.- In the Classical period, even before Romanticism with its nationalist sentiment, there was a naturalness to this influence of popular culture. Composers addressed a broad audience, even if they were financed by royalty, nobility, or the upper bourgeoisie. They embraced tradition, not only highbrow but also popular. They had to fulfill a civic function, especially in countries with many theaters that could program frequently. In Central Europe, they have been addressing cultural needs for centuries, needs that have only recently emerged in Spain. Large-scale classical ensembles must respond to society and not just perform in select auditoriums at exorbitant prices. Musicians know this, conductors know this, and programmers know this too. Many young musicians started out listening to everything: rock, techno, jazz, world music, just like us. They went to record stores and now play in large orchestras. It is necessary to break down barriers. For popular, street musicians, like myself, who trained outside of academia, approaching that scene is a challenge. In an age where language is so manipulated by commercial and political propaganda, it would be wonderful if music could preserve memory and synthesize trends from the last 500 years.

Shareable energy

Q.- Vagamundo can also be seen as a beautiful effort to embrace precarity without succumbing to it. It's a way for popular music to raise its head, not only from a creative standpoint but also as a social, economic, and political statement.

R.- Gilles Deleuze said that thought doesn't function without violence. It begins when you have to respond to a threatening situation, as a form of resistance. The force of necessity is fundamental to creativity. On the other hand, ennobling goals, seeking beauty, and improving forms are desirable in the artistic realm. If we give form to what necessity imposes, a form that revives common ground, we recover shareable energy. In that sense, I do have a social or collective motivation. I need to feel at least the illusion that I can contribute something to reviving our shared language, which is being destroyed very quickly in the media.

Q.- He talks about the acceleration of things, of language… In his book The lost rhythm (Peninsula, 2012) explains how at the age of 16 you felt that vocation for philosophy, when you worked as a draftsman, and that the reason was the Kantian notion that time and space are formed in the perception of the individual.

R.- That seemed amazing to me, firstly because I didn't understand it and it was enigmatic. The intrigue I began to feel with the 12th-grade textbook continued with the first avant-garde novels my older friends shared with me, with experimental poetry, and with contemporary philosophy. The great thing about those languages is that they provide mental freedom, a way to shed the weight of the everyday, obligations, the threats of age, or the certainty of death. It helps sustain humor, a positive outlook. Humor is the hidden factor of experimentation. It's necessary to cultivate a sense of humor that's somewhat richer than vulgar jokes. I'm concerned about the media's ability to manipulate language in order to sell dubious products that have to generate maximum profit in the shortest possible time.

Q.- Do you understand that there is a theft of language by certain interests?

R.- A hijacking of language, yes. Truth cannot be definitively stated, nor does it exist as something immutable. It is a collective approximation of something that can be sustained before the greatest number of witnesses over a reasonable period of time. That requires creation, elaboration, memory, and cooperation. Otherwise, truth is a bad joke. It needs to be built with noble materials, not geared toward deliberate deception. Particular or sectarian interests, those of a political party or a commercial brand, lie shamelessly. They say "clean hands" when it's a "hidden hand." The right wing wants to reconstruct the neoliberal "narrative" by calling the ease with which the powerful can circumvent the laws, the submission of the majority, "free market." That is perverting language, a tall tale, rather than a "narrative." Based on that, they intend to continue instilling fear in young voters.

»"We need to conduct a calm yet radical analysis of what individual freedom and collective commitment mean, without allowing words to be manipulated on a large scale through the media. For example, we can't equate 'Podemos = communism' because there's an ideological evolution within the younger left that ranges from orthodox communism to radical democracy. Secondly, talking about communism isn't inherently demonic; originally, it was a humanist ideology comparable, say, to Christianity. Its main problem was the belief that the proletarian revolution followed an inexorable historical logic. Many atrocities have been committed in its name, certainly, and in the name of Christianity or liberalism as well, so the problem isn't merely one of 'narrative,' but of the practices of power. The new generations don't accept that truths can be manipulated and want to intervene; that's what lies ahead." The most honest and educated people on the right, the least rapacious part of the traditional elites, recognize that what came out of the 15M movement are not demons, but a significant part of the new generations of Spaniards.

Echoes of the 15M

Q.- He has been seen (and read) publicly supporting Podemos since its inception. Now he's going to be the official speaker for the San Isidro festivities. He remains a sympathizer.

Q.- The opening address will be given to all Madrid residents, with affection and without ideological distinction. But I am a supporter of the new social movements. I see them as the only healthy sign of evolution in Spanish society over the last 40 years. A glimmer of hope for all of society. The 15M movement generated a new language that sought inclusivity, a sense of social responsibility liberated from 19th-century ideologies. It is the spearhead of a social phenomenon that will eventually spread throughout Europe, in opposition to the far right, which in turn reacts against the threats of the financial crisis, migration, and international terrorism. It is necessary to explain how these fearsome factors are directly related due to the division of colonial powers, the concentration of capital, the gap between civilizations, and the consequences of globalization. The problems ahead are serious; they will demand many and varied ingenuity. We cannot maintain a principle of authority based on endemic corruption, which stems from the Spain of absolutism. There is no more corruption than there was during the Franco regime; it's the same amount and within the same powerful families, but it has spiraled out of control with the euro and the evolution of international finance. Peripheral nationalist narratives also play a part: they are manipulated by economic and media elites.

Q.- I read on your website: “The oldest forms of knowledge are being relegated by a technical and economic conception that paints a dubious future for the peoples of the old Mediterranean basin.” How do electrification and computerization affect music-making? Are you able to reconcile these tools with traditions?

R.- A significant portion of humanity's tools are conditioned by military needs, from flint points to the technological laboratories of the 20th and 21st centuries: radio, television, high fidelity, microphones, recording devices, computers—all are military applications that are later commercialized. The same iron used to kill, slightly modified, can be used to plow the land and sow seeds. I believe this applies to new technologies. The same technology that can control your life and turn you into a geolocated, fragmented consumer can also be liberating. It's clear that, since the advent of the internet, new generations are repurposing the system's waste products to create something new.

Electronic program

Q.- And when creating music?

R.- I try to combine traditional and modern techniques to serve a single purpose: a shared model of beauty, not an exclusionary ideal reserved only for the children of the elite. An ancient instrument is a marvel of technology that can be compared to computer circuits. Let's compare them and see what they're useful for. Electronic software facilitates editing and gives you a home studio that previously required impossible funding. That doesn't mean that anything you put in there will be interesting to a segment of the population. For it to be interesting, you also have to work with traditional media, ideas, the sound of words, harmony, as has been done since the Neolithic era. We were naive to believe that new technologies would sweep away everything that came before. The world is still out there, even if it's almost all compartmentalized.

When I ask him about Radio Futura, Auserón pays tribute to his brother Luis and Enrique Sierra. The group's trajectory was built on solid albums and dazzling, original, popular, and distinctive songs that expanded the possibilities of the language of words and sound. In the inevitable and constant reevaluation of the Spanish new wave of the 80s, Radio Futura is a sure and stable choice, considered one of the driving forces of an incipient and modernist Latin rock. The repertoire of the symphonic project Vagamundo includes three songs from Juan Perro's Song (1987), an album that confirmed the power of his creativity and style. However, it all began almost as a game…

Q.- He recounted that the first call to make pop music took place in that rehearsal space in Madrid with Herminio Molero… One day they let them play with the equipment and he was amazed.

R.- That's what hooked us at the beginning of Radio Futura: the possibility of directly influencing sound. Handling a device and filling a room with sound, doing it with a certain intention, because from childhood you're selecting your listening experiences. Suddenly you discover that, even without professional or academic training, you know how you want the instruments to sound. For us, this was important because we weren't born in an ethnically defined area, and the folkloric vitality of our lands was lost with the rural exodus. We discovered that we had a tradition through electric sound.

Connection with ancestors

Q.- That mysterious rhythm he guessed by listening in the dark during his childhood, that lost rhythm, has he found it?

R.- I pick it up, lose it, and find it again. I'm satisfied with the path I've traveled from Radio Futura to Juan Perro; I feel I've preserved a small workshop from the winds of change, a workshop that allows me to refine the synthesis of the sounds that interest me. Sung verse remains the best technical medium for condensing a thought that must confront necessity, a sedimentation of the passing of time. Through our feet, our hands, and our voices, we maintain the connection with our ancestors, with the planet, and with our community.

In the simple, well-equipped studio on the ground floor of his house, the humanist becomes a musician once again. The microphones are ready to record the acoustic guitar and vocals. “I made a demo of this last night,” he says, and lays down a delicate, pre-rock soundscape with swing touches. A different kind of tension, a dreamy, trembling quality, appears in eyes that suddenly seem like those of a child. An enthusiasm he seems eager to share with any of us.