Estopa will receive this Monday the Catalan of the Year award. Congratulations, gentlemen.
Jose Muñoz: It sounds very strong, Catalan of the Year!
David Muñoz: It is a responsibility. They do not think they are the Catalans of the year, though they deeply appreciate being considered. Yes, it is an honor.
J. M.: The same honor as when they were awarded the Creu de Sant Jordi, which also left them speechless. It overwhelms you a bit, doesn’t it?
D. M.: They carry a touch of impostor syndrome. Of course it is an honor. They feel Catalan, from top to bottom, but they cannot assume they are the Catalans of the year.
They are the second musicians to receive this distinction. The other was Serrat, in 2004.
D. M.: Serrat stands as the most important figure in music both in Spanish and in Catalan. His songs are unbeatable. To be honored like him… they don’t even reach Serrat’s shoes.
A recognition like this places them in a position as civil-society figures. What they think carries weight, and people listen to them.
D. M.: And they do not want to be role models for anything. They resign as references right now. It is a heavy responsibility. If they wanted to be, it would be political.
J. M.: They like to say silly things and nonsense, and they do not like people taking them seriously.
D. M.: Sometimes you say something, then you see it written and it scares you a little, to be honest. They are not aware that today you do an interview and what you say will not stay there. No, now it transcends to all the digital newspapers and so on.
“There are artists who separate persona and character, and we try not to do that split”
People often describe Estopa as two very ordinary guys who haven’t let fame go to their heads and who remain the same as before they became famous. Does fame ever feel overwhelming?
D. M.: Look, to show that their humility is not fake modesty: the songs they love most in the history of music, from ancient Greece to the present, are their own. No one beats their humility. But they worry about receiving awards and the responsibility that comes with them. They sometimes think they should not have left Cornellà.
J. M.: There are artists who separate persona and character, and they try not to do that split, staying the same all the time, on and off stage, for better and for worse.
They do not want to be portrayed as characters or icons.
D. M.: It can be tiring; there is performing, there is stage presence, all the stuff to look good… And they have no filter. They speak their mind with honesty, always. But they prefer to keep going: let instinct guide them, and support each other unconditionally. If his brother says something foolish, they go with it.
They are not perfect.
D. M.: If you put “imperfect” in the dictionary, I am there. I am the very epitome of imperfection. I have so many flaws I don’t know where to start.
J. M.: Some people become more arrogant with success; I am not among them.
D. M.: And those who believe the praise. I would recommend Freud’s Introduction to Narcissism.
During this year’s tour, the Sant Ildefons block projections on screens greeted the audience from the first song. Has the neighborhood left its mark forever?
D. M.: On every tour they have used blocks. There is no other stage. When they sing, they like to be in a friendly environment, feel at home on a stage that mimics a street, with a bar, beer crates… and the beauty of Cornellà’s architecture. That classic, plain beauty.
J. M.: It is the same in Cornellà as in Santa Coloma or Vallecas.
“The only way for working people to move forward is to unite and organize. There is no other”
Have they seen the film El 47?
D. M.: No, they haven’t. Still, the neighborhoods have progressed thanks to residents’ advocacy. In Cornellà this has always been thus since the Transition period. The only way working people move forward is by uniting and organizing; there is no other way. Individually, it can’t be done. Strength comes from unity.
Since the 70s and 80s, Sant Ildefons has changed a lot.
D. M.: Very much. In their era, there were many empty lots. Drugs roamed freely, there were walking dead all over. They walked the streets dodging danger. Knife threats, running away, sometimes people would take your bike. But nothing worse happened.
J. M.: They were the best advertisement they could have, to say, “this is not the way.”
D. M.: Those empty lots and junkies have disappeared. Now there are plazas, football goals, baskets, many children playing in the streets.
J. M.: The hardest part is finding a parking space!
D. M.: When immigrants from Extremadura and Andalusia arrived, one can imagine natives saying: “These noisy people, playing guitars in bars all day.” They had to get used to it; it was a long process, but people from other parts of Spain, as their parents did, settled in and integrated well. Now a new wave of immigration from outside the country is finding its own way of integrating too.
No one can say Estopa has a single audience profile. When a show fills a stadium, audiences from many backgrounds, origins, and generations come together.
D. M.: They do not aim their music at a particular group. They aim to please themselves, to feel the music, to hear themselves say, “This rocks, this gives you goosebumps.” And that moment when the crowd sings along, with sixty thousand people, the song seems to carry itself. As Serrat would say, it becomes part of everyone.
“A brotherhood is far more dangerous than a group. Separated we are nothing”
Estopa is, above all, a brotherly duo. Have either brother ever considered pursuing a solo project or a side venture?
D. M.: No, no, no, no, no… Not at all.
J. M.: All those “no” tones, and no solitary decisions take place. Everything is discussed and debated.
D. M.: When a work proposal comes in, the answer is always, “Wait, I need to talk it over with my brother.” A brotherhood is far more dangerous than a group. They are human weapons. Separated they amount to nothing.
They end 2024 in a whirlwind. Will there be a return to something more normal, to spark new songs?
D. M.: Next year will likely see a few festival appearances, but not many. It will be time to write, compose, and compose again. They feel empty today. They expect to return to that home vibe, to the day-to-day, the ordinary things, the good and the bad.
J. M.: And for the guitar to start calling again: “Here I am.”
D. M.: The guitar sits on its stand at home. When they arrive, they pick it up and loosen the fingers. The other day the instrument was touched and someone said, “It has been a while since that tinkling sound.” It will return. The guitar is their source of wisdom. It leads to composing. The guitar and dreams.