This story unfolds over more than three decades. A Scottish musician named Allan McCarthy found himself in prison in the town of Sangonera la Meta, Murcia, when a regional radio station announced a demo contest through a program called Runaway Music. An overseeing authority named Juanjo Gómez Ayala encouraged the inmates to form a band and join the project. Allan later emerged in a double cassette compilation broadcast by regional radio under the title A Year of Rock in Murcia 1991, sharing the spotlight with Ferroblues, Joaquín Talismán, Fenomenos Extraños, and Doble Cero. The radio program even facilitated an interview and arranged for the group to perform in a room within the facility.
Inside the prison walls, Runaway Music became a beacon of possibility for the inmates, a whispered doorway to freedom. They heard their bands on the air, wrote daily letters to the show, and clung to the hope of appearing again. Then a sudden silence followed. Allan was moved to Carabanchel and cut off from the stream of news that had sustained him. Years later, during the program’s thirtieth anniversary, a memory resurfaced. A line from Benedetti echoed in the writer’s mind: I do not know your name, yet I know the look you gave. The memory of Allan McCarthy never faded. Eventually the text crossed the path of the Scottish musician who reached out to recall the remarkable tale, and the conversation began to unfold anew. After gaining freedom, Allan settled near Murcian lands and asked for help locating his former bandmates so they could return to the stage. He hopes for a reunion and a chance to invite readers to a concert. That would be the perfect finale for this story.
What about you, Allan? How many years have passed?
More than thirty years have gone by, yet the writer has kept watch over the story since the thirtieth anniversary and now finds the chapters converging again. It feels almost surreal, and the bond to that early chapter remains strong.
Is it surprising that memories of the past keep returning?
Yes, in truth, there were long gaps. Allan admits that he had not listened to the early recordings for a long time. He recently reacquired the tapes at a studio in Murcia before the previous Christmas, letting the music reenter his life.
“I want to rebuild the band and tour Spain. If Rolling can do it at eighty, we can do it at our age.”
Compared with the first run, you are now free and living on the coast. What next?
He resides near Mar Menor, holds Spanish residency, and is ready to restart the music once more. The challenge lies in reconnecting with former friends and finding out what happened to them. The effort now is to trace the paths that led away from Murcia and to see whether a reunion is possible. He asks for assistance to locate the bandmates and to plan a return to the stage. A live tour across Spain would be the next natural chapter.
Apart from simply asking for help, what is the aim of this message?
The immediate goal is to locate the members of Berlin 90, a group formed by several inmates in the Murcia prison in the 1990s. Allan seeks the reunion of those who shared this experience and to bring them back together for a new performance.
And perhaps a tour of Spain will follow.
What is Allan doing now?
He considers himself retired from a formal career. He spent years in the printing industry in Scotland and now manages a few magazines. Life is simpler these days, with plenty of time to enjoy the sun and play the guitar.
What about the famous names who crossed paths with music and controversy?
In a reflective tone, Allan mentions icons associated with music history. Elvis Presley never faced jail time, while Johnny Cash faced his own trials. Paul McCartney once encountered legal trouble, and Mick Jagger is believed to have run into trouble too. Chuck Berry faced a serious case, described as a public health offense. These allusions punctuate the larger tale of lives shaped by fame and consequence.
How did Allan end up serving time, and what were the consequences?
He describes a sentence of six and a half years with a substantial fine. He notes that the prospect of additional time hovered if the payment was not made. He recalls a moment of defiance, stating that a year of payment might have been the same as a year of freedom lost. The experience of deprivation as one of the harsher trials can be a catalyst for music and resilience. In a sense, the period amplified the urge to create.
How did Allan cope inside prison and how did the band come together?
Allan says the time was not without purpose. He spent days with a guitar, and when the program for music contraband appeared, the mood shifted. The others listened with interest, and there was a shared sense of freedom when the music could be expressed beyond the cell. The band Berlin 90 found its voice during a workshop that helped pass the hours. A teacher named Juanjo noticed their aptitude and saw potential in the demo contest. A quick burst of creativity led Allan to write a song in a single session, and its energy resonated with others. The studio session followed with a few hours of recording that captured a moment of possibility.
Was the space at the prison more like a room or a cell in practice?
It was described as a space that felt like a room, not a cell. Claustrophobic terms gave way to a sense of personal space when Allan insisted on writing alone. The room became a shelter that allowed a different rhythm and a chance to push boundaries. This small difference had a meaningful impact on daily life and on the creative process.
What happened during the interview and the subsequent studio time?
The interview and the session at a studio were intense experiences. A guard remained nearby as Allan played the guitar, and the atmosphere remained electric. They found themselves with renewed purpose and a plan to keep pushing forward. The time away from the rest of the world was difficult, yet the music offered a sense of momentum that kept them moving.
“After the first concert the journey felt like a new beginning. We produced a demo and appeared on the radio, but eventually the momentum faded.”
How did the radio visit and interview feel at the time, and how is it remembered now?
It felt like a vivid dream, a moment when a director might change course and give a chance to something new. After the event, re-entry to daily life proved lengthy and challenging with the usual formalities. Yet the memories endure, and recordings survive as a link to that time. The sense of a doorway opening and then closing remains a powerful part of the legend.
Was there a party to celebrate after getting back from the first performances?
There was a modest celebration with Coca-Cola and mineral water. It was a reminder that even within difficult circumstances, there were reasons to smile and moments worth recalling long after.
Who created Berlin 90 and where did the members come from?
The lineup included Michel from Marseille as the drummer, Adrián a guitarist and singer from Murcia, Tito the bassist from Madrid, Jorge on bass and keyboards, and Allan himself who, at the time, was from Scotland. The exact whereabouts of some members faded with time, along with the whereabouts of their teacher Juanjo.
Will this conversation help locate everyone for the planned tour? Had Allan played in bands before Berlin 90?
The aim is to reunite the scattered members of Berlin 90 and to replay the early chemistry that brought them together. Allan has always played guitar with friends, though he admits there was nothing on a grand stage before this project.
Tell me about Stormy Waters. What did that signify?
Stormy Waters represented a vow of dedication and willingness to do what is asked for a beloved partner. It stands as a symbol of the emotional core behind the music and the bond among the players. The track was one of the recordings made at Pepe Moreno’s studio, the day that still stands out as a high point in the early career.
What about the recording session and the studio time?
They spent several hours at Pepe Moreno’s studio, recording three tracks including Stormy Waters and two others. The day stretched long, with the ambition of matching the pace of legends and delaying the return to ordinary life as long as possible. The sessions carried sweat, laughter, and a feeling that great things could unfold with patience.
Any last memories from those days with the guards or the road beyond prison walls?
There were reminders that the path was not simple. The crew traveled to a studio in a nameless vehicle, not a police van, and the human warmth of shared music remained a constant. Allan even recalls sharing a few beers and a moment when the music was the real prize that kept them moving forward.
Looking back, what made the music so important during those years?
Music offered a way to feel free even when the walls were closing in. The energy of a first concert, a growing demo, and radio airplay created a sense of purpose that could stand alongside the most difficult days. The dream persisted long after the stage lights faded, and now the hope is to revive it with a new generation of listeners across Spain.
Why pursue this reunion now, after all these years
The belief is simple. If historic acts can stage comebacks in later years, a small group from a distant past can too. The chance to reconnect with old friends, share the music again, and perhaps tour the country is a powerful motivator. The story remains a testament to resilience, friendship, and the enduring pull of a shared guitar and song.