Christmas scene with Tino Casal: A documentary series brings the figure of the Asturian artist back to the fore
We are not Superman, as one member puts it, and the idea that the bodies are aging is acknowledged by another: it is time to say goodbye. The voices of Emily and Emilio Jr. complete the family chorus, underscoring that their work has required constant movement, effort, and physical stamina. After decades in the spotlight, the band has pressed on through losses, piracy, and the shift from physical records to digital formats. Julio González Gabarre, Emilio González García, and Emilio Jr. reflect on a fifty-year journey marked by persistence, creativity, and a farewell tour planned for 2024 in major Spanish cities.
Q. What will fans find in this book and in the tour that follows?
Emilio González García explains what fans can expect: a display of love and gratitude, and an emotional farewell on stage. Each performance will revisit the familiar repertoire with the same warmth, performing songs that have become anthems such as Neither more nor less, Come with me gypsy, delusions, and love of buying and selling.
Q. The career began in 1973, during Franco’s era and the release of songs like I Want to Be Free. Was that a protest?
Julio González Gabarre answers that it was indeed a response to the regime, while Emilio González García notes that the original composer, Jero, may have written it from a moment rather than as a direct protest, even though it carried political subtexts that people read as protest. A discussion follows about how audiences interpreted the song during those times.
Emilio González García adds that the era’s context shaped perceptions, but the band did not intend to make a political claim with every line. The dialogue acknowledges the era’s social reality and the way audiences connected with it.
In a subsequent scene, the group reflects on how their music also addressed social issues, including domestic violence and the struggles of women, challenging social norms and bringing uncomfortable topics into public discourse. The artists recall that their work often spoke to real life, sometimes in the language of raw honesty rather than ornamented rhetoric.
“They sang about what you saw as soon as you left your house, with no intention of blaming or claiming anything,” notes a member. The discussion moves to the drug era, with the band describing how their songs documented the consequences of drug use without casting blame. They emphasize that their songs warned young listeners and reflected lived experience, helping to inform rather than judge.
Q. What is the secret to songs that endure for half a century despite changing times?
Gabarre replies that inspiration visits the creators rather than being a search for hits. The duo emphasizes that they remain simple people who speak honestly to a broad audience. On stage they cut loose, turning conversations into performances and letting arrangements carry the emotion. The approach has helped their material stand the test of time.
Los Chichos are described as trailblazers who expanded the sound by adding strings to choruses and introducing female voices. The conversations credit these innovations with reshaping the group’s musical identity and ensuring a lasting, authentic sound. The role of the producer José Torregrosa is highlighted as pivotal in shaping the ensemble’s distinctive texture, with careful attention to top and bottom frequencies and the tactile quality of vinyl recordings. A note about collaboration follows, describing how Torregrosa encouraged involvement from arrangers like Miralles and the bridging of cultural gaps within the group’s creative process.
In a section about listening with ears and seeing with ears, the article retreats to a memory of collaboration with other luminaries in the rumba world. While certain figures like El Luis are mentioned, the dialogue clarifies friendships and the importance of respect among artists, even when collaborations did not occur as initially imagined.
Another block revisits Catalan rumba and the broader rumba quinqui movement, emphasizing that Los Chichos and Peret operated in parallel streams rather than in direct competition. The artists underline that their path did not hinge on rivalry but on a shared love for expression through music. The narrative closes with a reflection on Primavera Sound in 2016, where the group realized that audiences embraced them for being genuine and performing with heart. The same spirit carried them through Viñarrock, Estremúsika, and Benicàssim events, despite pandemic delays.
Hyperlinked recaps acknowledge the existence of a wide field of bands and fans, while the main thread stresses the importance of authenticity and the enduring appeal of stories told through song. The closing thoughts reiterate that the group remains a symbol of real life translated into music, with a sharply defined boundary between Los Chichos and other acts such as Los Chunguitos. The artists insist that their catalog spans hundreds of songs, each rooted in true experiences and separate from other acts’ repertoires.