Mandarin
The story of Estopa began in one of the neighborhoods of Cornellà that Montalbán compared to those Pacific islands where Gauguin spent his last days surrounded by the innocence of earthly paradise. An innocence comparable to the sincerity that the Muñoz brothers transmit in their lyrics as well as in their treatment, as if fame did not go with them, an invention to have something to talk about with friends between beer and beer. “My father played the guitar, so did my uncles and his cousins,” remembers Jose of his musical origins. Those were the years of the La Española bar, where they learned to play with Emilio Hita, guitarist of La Banda Trapera del Río and a regular at the place, “later he became a policeman”.
They started performing in Cornellà bars such as Tijuana or Bar Sin Nombre, and from there they went to Cova del Drac and Bikini, “which was already playing in Barcelona”. The next leap took them to big stages like the Sant Jordi or the Las Ventas bullring in 2001, of which they keep a memory in the studio in the form of a photograph, playing in front of 21,000 people. “I was just as giddy playing Bikini then as I am now at the Olímpic” says David; Jose sees it as the Champions of music. “We want to do something special, that will be remembered by us and by the people, because until we are 50 years old we will not repeat this event again”. But they quickly get over the pressure of playing where no Spanish band has ever played, “if we don’t play, nothing happens”. “And after the Olympic, at Bikini to relax”, adds David.
From those years came hits like La raja de tu falda that will be played next year along with the tracks from the next album, Estopía, for which they already have the songs recorded. “There is always the fear that nothing will come of it, but after the pandemic they got us together and we had a good time composing again”, comments Jose to draw an album in which rumba predominates in all aspects. “There is the Catalan rumba, the flamenco, the rock rumba, the choni, the cani, in addition to other colors that we had never investigated such as the ranchera, a more crooner theme, another grunge”.
“We had four years to do it”, remembers David, adding a period of pandemic during which they did not compose anything. “Apart from watching a thousand series, we read the Odyssey and were discussing it while drinking vermouth”. “Where are you going?” David asked his brother. “Now I’ll beat you”, he answered, in a competition that led them to read Ulysses’ journey at night, or listen to it on audiobook. “I’m going to the island of the witches, piltrafilla”, said the older brother to the younger one.
Mythology has also crept surreptitiously into the music video for El día que tú te marches, a rumba with love as its apparent motif, although it is actually about the fear of losing inspiration. “We scanned our neighborhood of Cornellà and sneaked in there turned into giants, like Godzilla”, describes Jose as he shows him the cell phone, where the covers of all the albums circulate, like the pig from Destrangis or the flames from Voces of ultrasound
Was there ever a time when the couple thought about separating? “No, we’re inoperable Siamese brothers”, says Jose flatly. “Neither in the past nor in the future”, adds David. The couple remains true to themselves, also on the musical side. “We don’t write about joints anymore, our life has changed, we don’t hang out in the park with our colleagues, it’s about writing about what we’re living,” explains Jose. “They would accuse us of being boomers”, intervenes David, satisfied that they can continue to sing most of their songs at the age of 40 already in the rearview mirror of the Seat Panda, towards their private Ithaca, where there will be no shortage of beer, friends, a Super Nintendo and good music to prepare the party.
