De toda la serie de publicaciones dedicadas al Flamenco hasta ahora, esta es la más importante, la que tiene la clave para entender todo lo publicado; y lo que queda por publicar.

 La música es algo más que un conjunto de sonidos armoniosos. Más que una suma de diferentes vibraciones contenidas por un ritmo. Steven Mithen (2005) sugiere que la música es una vuelta al pasado. Una imitación del habla adulta que escuchamos durante nuestra infancia.

 Esta forma particular de hablar es conocida por los científicos como “lengua adaptada a los niños”. Hablamos a los niños en tonos más altos, con más variedad tonal, las frases son más breves, las pausas y las palabras se subrayan de forma exagerada. Pruebas de laboratorio han demostrado que los niños más pequeños no entienden las palabras que les dedicamos, sólo oyen melodías e interpretan nuestros mensajes por su melodía.

  Of all the series of publications dedicated to Flamenco up to now, this is the most important one, the one that holds the key to understanding everything published so far; and what is yet to be published.

  Music is more than just a set of harmonious sounds. Music is more than a sum of different vibrations contained by a rhythm. Steven Mithen (2005) suggests that music is a return to the past. An imitation of the adult speech we heard during our childhood.

  This particular way of speaking is known by scientists as "motherese". We speak to children in higher tones, with more tonal variety, shorter phrases, exaggerated pauses and emphasis on words. Laboratory tests have shown that younger children do not understand the words we address to them, they only hear melodies and interpret our messages based on their melody.

 Pero la música, no sólo nos evoca la infancia, también está cargada de otros significados. Escuchar Flamenco me une a mi padre, cuando escucho a The Who una cascada de recuerdo juveniles me asaltan a ritmo de R&B.

 Esta serie dedicada al Flamenco, realmente está dedicada a mi padre. Es una forma/ una vía de mantener el vínculo con él. Como no todo en la vida es perfecto, tengo perfecta conciencia de que muchas de las cosas que he publicado no le gustaban/gustan. También es otra forma de mantener esta relación, mediante la discusión y el desacuerdo. La música es capaz de estos milagros, de mantener vivo un recuerdo.

 Ya hora sí…

  But music not only evokes childhood, it is also laden with other meanings. Listening to Flamenco connects me to my father, when I listen to The Who, a cascade of youthful memories assault me to the rhythm of R&B.

 This series dedicated to Flamenco is really dedicated to my father. It's one way of keeping the connection with him. As not everything in life is perfect, I am fully aware that many of the things I have published he did not like/like. It is also another way to maintain this relationship, through discussion and disagreement. Music is capable of these miracles, of keeping a memory alive.

 And now, yes...

 Esta es mi participación en #threetunetuesday; #ttt, una idea de @ablaze, al que le agradezco sinceramente la bienvenida a esta iniciativa. También quiero dar las gracias a los patrocinadores de esta idea y saludar a todos los que participan en esta gran idea.

 This is my participation in #threetunetuesday; #ttt, an idea of @ablaze, whom I sincerely thank for welcoming me to this initiative. I also want to thank the sponsors of this idea and salute all those who participate in this great idea.

 Allá por los años 90, en compañía de mis padres acudí a La Sala Revolver (Madrid) a escuchar a El Merenguito. Cantaor Flamenco, amigo de infancia de mi padre. Al acabar el concierto recuerdo que mi padre le preguntó a su amigo, El Merenguito, por qué ya no cantaba flamenco. Su amigo le contestó que lo que había visto esa noche, en el escenario, es lo que quiere el público y lo que da de comer.

 La realidad es que el concierto, fue un concierto de Flamenco, donde sonaron fandangos, marianas, bulerias,.. Pero los dos amigos , y cómplices, sabían que no fue un espectáculo de lo que ellos entendían por flamenco de verdad, puro. Sino una recreación para un público no-flamenco o más amplio.

 Siendo como soy, alguien ajeno a esta cultura, en esta serie dedicada al flamenco he tratado de no desvirtuar el género. Por encima de todo, por respeto a mi padre, al que están dedicadas estas publicaciones. Aunque, al mismo tiempo he tratado de hacer asequible a cualquier persona este acercamiento a la cultura flamenca.

 El protagonista de esta publicación es este Flamenco profundo ("de verdad"), underground, del que manan todas las otras manifestaciones destinadas a un público más amplio. A esas raíces que sostienen ese gran árbol que es el Flamenco de hoy.

 Un patrimonio que se transmite en el seno de linajes familiares, de generación en generación, de boca a oído. Que se expresa en los bautizos, en las bodas, en las fiestas gitanas...

 También se hace necesario hablar de las peñas flamencas. A diferencia de las presentaciones en los grandes conciertos, en los teatros, en muchos tablaos, etc., a las peñas flamencas, pequeños locales casi clandestinos, acude un exigente y entendido auditorio, vestido de domingo, que escuchará en silencio de misa a un cantaor, que sin artificios ni edulcorantes, cantará arropado solamente con la guitarra española. En ese silencio, el cantaor novel se va forjando ante la mirada de un público que no tolera las “modernidades”.

 Back in the 90s, accompanied by my parents, we went to La Sala Revolver (Madrid) to listen to El Merenguito (Flamenco singer). He was a childhood friend of my father. After the concert ended, I remember my father asking his friend, El Merenguito, why he no longer played flamenco. His friend replied that what he had seen that night, on the stage, is what the audience wants and what provides sustenance.

  The reality is that the concert was, in fact, a Flamenco show, with fandangos, marianas, bulerias, and more. However, the two friends, in cahoots, knew that it was not a performance of what they understood as real, pure flamenco. Instead, it was a recreation for a non-flamenco or broader audience.

  As someone unfamiliar with this culture, in this series dedicated to flamenco, I have tried not to distort the genre. Above all, out of respect for my father, to whom these publications are dedicated. Although, at the same time, I have aimed to make this approach to flamenco culture accessible to anyone.

  The protagonist of this publication is this deep ("real"), underground Flamenco, from which all the other manifestations destined to a wider public flow. To those roots that support the great tree that is today's Flamenco.

  A heritage passed down through family lineages, from generation to generation, through word of mouth. It is expressed in baptisms, weddings, and gypsy celebrations.

  It is also necessary to talk about flamenco clubs. Unlike performances in big concerts, theaters, many tablaos, etc., at flamenco clubs - small, almost clandestine venues - a demanding and knowledgeable audience, dressed up for Sunday, gathers to listen in reverent silence to a singer, who, without frills or sweeteners, sings only accompanied by the Spanish guitar. In that silence, the young singer forges himself under the gaze of an audience that does not tolerate "modernisms."

  In this unearthing of the roots, nothing better than to turn to a myth, to a cantaor out of the ordinary. This is what Agujetas is, (Manuel de los Santos.1939-2015), singer born in Jerez de la Frontera, possessor of a voice that causes harm, that wounds, that springs from Hades.

  Agujetas claimed, that without having had a bad time, one could not sing flamenco. I cannot say for sure that this idea is true, but I can say that Agujetas, with a life full of hardships, knew how to express like no one else the pain of a people persecuted for centuries: the gypsy people.

  He considered himself "the last one to come out." The Omega of pure flamenco. He also proclaimed himself the "King of Gypsy Singing," sure of being that "last" and only living flamenco singer in the universe. Son of Agujetas el Viejo, a flamenco singer, he learned in the family what flamenco was. Of course, that pure Flamenco that he defended so much in life (the one my father liked).

  Today I will present three songs recorded with Gualberto, founder of the rock group Smash, in 1979. Although a defender of purity, Agujetas had no qualms about recording with rock musicians, just as he had no qualms about accompanying himself with instruments like the sitar. His fidelity to the roots was also not an issue when creating lyrics more akin to Bukowski than to the flamenco tradition.

What is that glimmering?
I told you, pig face
you just want to grab my chomino
I don't want tangos and tanguillos anymore
because of the madroños, he's going to get drunk

_{Lyrics. Manuel de los Santos}

Teach him how to love
A child was crying at the door of a prison
a very tiny child was crying
"Father, come out to the street
mom has gone with another man
and I am left alone
without anyone's warmth"

_{Lyrics. Manuel de los Santos}