David
Palomar Biography, discography,
Real Audio and readers' comments
David Palomar, flamenco
cantaor. Interview
‘Trimilenaria’,
track-by-track by David Palomar
Silvia Calado. Mont de Marsan, July 2008
Although he already has other
musical projects in the pipeline, ‘Trimilenaria’
“is the album I wanted to make first because it's
a tribute to my homeland”. David
Palomar comments that his début is so-called
because “Cadiz is three thousand years old. It must
be just over three thousand, like El Beni said. Three
thousand... and thirty-one at least.” The cantaor
from La Viña hardly strings two sentences together
without cracking a joke. “Almost all of them are
old Cadiz-born songs, except for two that are original
creations and a little out of the ordinary, but I've tried
to keep within the confines of what could be considered
a flamenco album,” explains the vocalist. And here
he gives us a track-by-track breakdown of his first recording
project, from the very flamenco steps of the École
of Musique at Mont de Marsan...
David Palomar with Rafael
Rodríguez
(Photo Daniel Muñoz)
Trimilenaria
tangos
“It's a track with my own lyric
set to music by Ricardo Rivera. It draws on my experiences
in Cadiz. That's why the first lyric says: “When
I say Cadiz, I mean my life. When I say soul, I mean La
Viña.” They're the places where I grew up
and where I began to get into flamenco. They're all real.
“Angelita la del 15” is a woman that lived
across the road at number 15, one of those old women that
lived in the little flat-roofed houses, doing her washing
by hand in one of those huge old bowls. They're things
I grew up with. And I wanted to immortalize them. I let
Ricardo do something more contemporary, with a modern
touch, and that way pick up on our alegría and
vivacity, give it a little more universal appeal. It has
backing singers doing the 'coros', it has percussion,
bass and piano. It's a bit more now.”
Francisca Méndez
bulería
“It's a bulería dedicated to La
Paquera de Jerez. To me, alongside La
Perla, she's the past, present and future queen of
the bulería, and will be so long as flamenco exists.
They're the ones that really do it for me 'por bulerías',
and the ones that I used to guide me. I did the bulería
kind of leaning toward a Jerez style, it's fairly up-tempo.
I do the end like spoken flamenco, it might remind you
of what Diego
Carrasco does, sort of rapping to the rhythm. Diego
and Tomasito were going to take part, but as they were
really busy and we could never get together I decided
in the end to record it myself, my way. Keko Baldomero
appears here on guitar, Paquito González on cajón,
and there’s Mercedes
Ruiz's furious feet and El Junco's hands supplying
the 'palmas'. And I'm really happy because family members
have called me saying they were thrilled with it. I think
it's done with due care and respect. I get a little carried
away, but I think you have to be daring. And I didn't
go that crazy, because these people like Diego - the maestros
- already did that kind of stuff. I had a whole bunch
of lyrics, also my own.
David Palomar (Photos Daniel
Muñoz)
This bulería is 100% my own creation.
The vibe is as old as the hills, but it's totally my idea.
And I was sure about it, I wrote that bulería a
couple of years ago. I wanted Isidro Muñoz to do
the production work, but I had the album so clear in my
mind that I knew any producer was going to turn it on
its head, make a different album. On the next one I'll
probably have to hand over the reins to somebody else
that knows how it ought to be done. Anyway I really like
studio work. In Cadiz my friends and I are in there all
day long doing stuff. We're Pro Tools addicts. Hey kid,
what styles can you sing? Me, er... Pro Tools, Cubase...
Wow, that's wonderful! To me all that technology works
in art's favor, if it's not misused. If you record phrase
by phrase and overdub well then... I don't know. The tracks
that are just voice and guitar - the seguiriya, the soleá,
the malagueña - I tried to do them in one take.
I did a few takes of each and chose the one I liked best.
It's best to use one whole take.”
Niño del Mentidero
alegría
“The alegría, for example,
was the first take. There are little things, but Morao
told me to leave it alone, so that's the way it stayed.
Having Moraíto
Chico around is a true honor. You just have to see
him turn up at the studio with his long hair, with the
weird music he has in his car. What a laugh, he just makes
everything so easy. And on top of that telling me not
to make life difficult for him. I mean we should've been
scared out of our wits. It was a true pleasure. Man, the
sound of that guy's playing, he accompanies like no other.
I think there really aren't many people who make a guitar
sound like that when they're playing accompaniment. That's
one thing I was clear about, I wanted Morao to be there.
People said to me why not call Diego
del Morao. And I'll call Diego for the second album.
On this one I wanted Moraíto. People are starting
to forget about him as an accompanist to cante, but for
me he's number one. Him and a few others I like, such
as Rafael Rodríguez and Manolo
Franco. Those kind of guitarists play traditional
palos so well, they have a power that young guys just
don't have, it's different. They've had different lives
and their playing has a different touch.
David Palomar with Rafael
Rodríguez
(Photo Daniel Muñoz)
Here I remember El Niño del Mentidero,
back to the barrio again. It says that the way we sing
alegrías in Cadiz isn't better or worse - it's
just different. It has its own unique flavor that I try
to use. I talk about two novice singers from the neighborhood,
which has two tabernas, El Manteca and El Albero. And
I finish up with El Niño del Mentidero, a cantaor
from Cadiz that couldn't carry on singing for health reasons.
He made an album called ‘Bellos lugares de Cadiz’,
which is marvelous. I'd advise anyone that doesn't have
it to hunt down a copy because he left recordings of the
'cantes de Cádiz' with a magic touch... And I remember
him because the first alegría I ever learned was
the one on that album. I'm really fond of him.”
Siguirilla
“Seven minutes. I understand that
after that some people are going to eject the disc and
throw it out of the window. (He laughs). I understand.
I know that to the uninitiated in cante it might be torture,
but I had to do it that way or else I wouldn't be happy.
I may never record another one like that, seven minutes
long... next time only six and a half. (He laughs again).
Morao plays here too. I used popular lyrics - I do Manuel
Torre, Curro Durse and a snippet from Juan Talega.
It's traditional, there's not a lot more to say. I wanted
to leave it on record because when I'm forty I'll probably
have a different kind of voice. My voice is high-pitched
but rough and I think this kind of voice goes downhill,
your voice changes, I can see it in people like La
Susi or Remedios. By the way, yesterday (at Mont
de Marsan 2008) La Susi sang... her voice sounded
like it had broken, amazing, she sounded like a rock singer
- unbelievable.”
La calle Priego
bulería
“This bulería is played
by Santiago
Lara, although he isn't credited on the disc... a
printing error. What can I say? He's a very influential
guitarist. That bulería, with the sixth held down
is really beautiful. It's dedicated to Andalucía.
One day I was in a village where, like so many others
in Andalucía, it seems like time just stood still.
They still have mills that make olive oil, springs and
streams, the old wash houses, all surrounded by olive
groves, by silence.”
David Palomar with Rosario
Toledo
(Photo Daniel Muñoz)
Santo Domingo
malagueña
“The malagueña... isn't
quite so long, OK Silvia? (He laughs). Here you have to
give credit to Rafael Rodríguez's guitarwork, he
does an amazing tremolo. El Cabeza has this punk rocker
within, who's unleashed when he has a couple of drinks.
He's the punk of the flamenco guitar scene. He's like
the punk version of Diego
del Gastor. There's something about his personality...
a great guy. The lyric is my own, and I talk a little
about the story of Enrique
el Mellizo. In flamenco circles everybody knows him:
he came from the Santa María neighborhood. He was
a butcher who worked at the slaughterhouse, and they say
- we don't really know for sure - that every afternoon
he used to go to the chapel at the Church of Santo Domingo,
and he used to listen to the organ, the Gregorian chants,
and that's how he got his inspiration. It's a tribute
to El Mellizo.”
Miradas perdidas
tangos
“It's chill-out time. This is for
when you're sitting around at home. The lyric's already
been done by other singers, but that doesn't mean it's
out of date. People are still dying trying to cross the
Straits of Gibraltar. That moves me, because as well as
being a committed Christian I just wanted to say something
about the problems faced by Africans trying to emigrate
to Europe. The music, the violin arrangement and the guitar
are by Keko Baldomero. He's a great musician, he's twenty-five
years old and brimming with talent. It talks about the
issue of illegal immigrants. You have to get involved
and do something. And I don't mean organizing a charity
event where people turn up in Lamborghinis. I hate that
when stars pop up to have their photo taken. You have
to get involved, it's difficult but you have to try. But
before that what about mortgage rates, eh Zapatero? Five
and a half percent, you have to lower it. And lower your
freaky eyebrows too! (He laughs). I don't think I quite
get into La Paquera territory... But I do whatever it
takes to pay the mortgage these days - I'll even mime
a seguiriya if I have to!”
Fandango de Palomar
David Palomar with Rafael
Rodríguez (Foto Daniel Muñoz)
“Here we reach the high point.
I've already been called shameless and everything. The
tone is as old as the hills, but I tackle it my own way.
There's an air of old El Rubio and maybe of Morente.
But that's life. All personal styles are similar at the
end of the day. What changes a little is the way people
use it. I wanted to leave a recording like this, but I
don't think Antonio
Mairena would come back to life to make a note of
it. (He laughs). The work that man did, nobody else has
done so much for flamenco. If Mairena had never done that
study, we wouldn't know half of the styles. Charamusco,
forgotten cantes from the mines, that cartagenera by Rojo
el Alpalgatero, he and Valderrama
put them together - not even the folks from La Unión
knew that one. They used to go and listen to the old cobbler
up in Utrera sing ‘por soleá’, or they'd
go to Malaga to find the only guy who knew the 'malagueña
de La Trini'. They stole the lot! They did an amazing
job but the Spanish songwriters' association would have
a few words to say today... That's the way it is though.
There are critics who told me I should've marked the soleá
and the seguiriya as traditional songs. But if they're
critics they should know. I'm not going to say a traditional
lyric is my own. I did the fandango just to carve out
my own path. Maybe it's a little too romantic, or even
pretentious, but time will tell. If it's beautiful and
it lasts, great. If not I'll keep it for myself. Guillermo
Cano did a Levante thing, and maybe in forty years' time
we'll be talking about that style of his.”
Suerte de varas
pregón
“It's the pregón de Macandé
and the fandango. Macandé never recorded, he ended
up in an asylum in Cadiz. He used to sell candy at bullfights,
from town to town, a traveling man. And El Negro del Puerto
was his friend, they must've understood one another. Imagine
the conversations they'd have. And he took his cante and
recorded it really well. Everybody knows that El Negro
del Puerto and Alonso el del Cepillo recorded a bunch
of romances that are solid gold. Gaztelu caught them in
‘Rito
y geografía del cante’. And it's amazing
what they do, I've listened to it so many times. There's
an anecdote that says Caracol
went to Cadiz to try and find Macandé, and he was
already in the asylum and wouldn't sing for him. People
said he was a true virtuoso and a genius, but he spent
the money he earned in brothels. And the track is a little
theatrical, kind of trying to evoke the image of this
guy in a bullring, with the sound of the wagons... There's
a pasodoble by the great Tejero, with cornets setting
the tone, and this guy shouts “Gabriel, give me
a bag of candy!” - that's my friend Antonio Barberán,
a flamencologist from Cadiz, who's done some incredible
work. He's compiled around three thousand 'cantes de Cádiz'
sung by people from Cadiz and elsewhere. There are things
I never even heard of, like the malagueñas de Fosforito
el Viejo and anonymous soleás.”
Soleá
“This lyric is from Juanichi el
Manijero and El Chozas, and I finish up with Enrique El
Mellizo. Rafael el Cabeza plays superbly on this one.
He sounds like he's the Jimi Hendrix of Morón de
la Frontera, and you can just feel his power. Excellent,
as always.”
Taberna Casa Manteca
fiesta por bulerías
“We got together at El Manteca, and we stuffed ourselves
with food and wine. There was Mariana Cornejo, Pepi de
Ignacio, Junior the rapper, El
Junco, Keko, Ricardito, Reyes Martín... forty
of us at least. We hired out the whole taberna, so we
could relax... A recording engineer came up from Granada,
set up a couple of microphones and away we went to the
sound of knuckles rapping on the table. It lasts even
longer than the seguiriya! We did two twenty-five minute
takes, I sang more than ever before, but I felt really
comfortable and relaxed. And we chose a seven-minute extract.
We recorded things I wouldn't release out of respect,
but Mariana sang, Junior started to improvise rapping
'por bulerías'... crazy, and there it is immortalized.
One of these days I'm going to dig it out and say it's
mine like Mairena. (he laughs). And for anyone who doesn't
know, El Manteca is a taberna that dates back to 1953,
when it was half bar half grocery store. Over the years
it became just a taberna, with a bullfighting theme. Pepe
Manteca was a novice bullfighter and the bullring's biggest
fan. Before I came to the festival I was there having
a drink with Rancapino
and Panseco.
El Piti de Cadiz goes there, El Chiquito de Cádiz...
really fun people who've spent time with the Pilar López's
company, or Caracol's, travelling around America, going
to Los Canasteros... They tell you the maddest stories,
they make fun of one another, you just die laughing listening
to them. Cadiz, Cadiz.”
And a few other
thoughts
“I had a lot of material already
written. And I chose a few songs that were half decent,
that said something that no other malagueña said
maybe. Some might criticize, and some critics already
did, but these are my experiences. It's my first album
and I see it as very personal and very Cadiz: Independent
Republic of La Viña, Cadiz! On the next album I'll
have to absorb a little talent. I could learn a little
more from what Morente does, he's calling me along the
route of pain and bitterness. To me he's the best singing
the work of poets, and the one who's dug up the most interesting
material. I had the pleasure of listening to ‘Guernica’
in the Peligros studio where I mastered the album. I was
shell-shocked. I mean how does this guy do this stuff
at sixty-something while we're all so old-fashioned in
our way of thinking? My girlfriend probably wants me to
be the Beckham of cante, but for the time being I'm more
like Walter Matthau. (He laughs). You have to move with
the times. I always stick up for Pitingo, who a lot of
people criticize. I love that look, the format of the
show kicks ass, and if that's the way he wants to do it
then great. He has incredible talent. I can't think of
any weaknesses. You might criticize him, but just try
doing what he does. That's really tricky. I admire him
a lot. You have to give flamenco an inner-city feel. We
should go back to live shows, standing up on stage singing,
and bringing fresh ideas. This is an artform that's alive
and well, and it has to keep moving. Caracol is more modern
than anyone you can name. And what about La Niña
de los Peines? And Pepe Pinto? And they call me modern
because of the Paquera song!”
