To Marc, Axel, and Jesús, the silvering of their hair sits perfectly. They are no longer the youths who, between the erotic and the festive, tore through the industry with looping melodies, but age has helped them shed insecurities. Perhaps that is why their fan base keeps growing. The audience wants the authenticity of someone who has nothing left to prove, and Sidonie, crowned in festivals and venues, has long focused on simply having a good time. They have spent 28 years turning every show into a memorable party, and experience comes with its own perks: between chords and beers, they know which note to hit to make your hips move. This Thursday, after selling out the Siroco venue a day earlier, they close another golden chapter at Madrid’s Movistar Arena. Brace for the afterglow. They aren’t the same as before; they’re better.
Q: Marc says he is scared. He likes feeling the nerves of the early days because losing them would affect the songs. He admits they make him anxious and that he would like to talk it over with someone. With a new album on the horizon, the whirlwind will return, and he confirms it will be the first in Catalan. Don’t worry: the order of languages here won’t dull the energy.
Q: Confess it. Do you regret anything?
A: Yes, of course. In the beginning they were reckless. They arrived at concerts without sleep because they had been out partying. It was rough, especially since people had paid to see something interesting and found them instead. Today he takes better care. And the priority, without a doubt, is the audience.
Q: What balance do you draw after 28 years of Sidonie?
A: Everything they have done has been led by love and respect. Before albums, trips, and gigs there is the fact that they are a group of friends. Living this adventure is tricky. There have been eras when they ruined themselves, fought, and grew bitter about other people’s success. Yet they keep going because it’s fun. They are fighters. Despite the erotic‑festival image they project, there is a tremendous amount of work behind it.
Q: They say they lost everything. When did that happen?
A: When they moved from English to Spanish. In Vitoria, half the crowd came to see them, and for a Barcelona‑based tour that was a financial debacle. They returned without turning a profit. It was a couple of hard years. They could have quit and done something else, but they kept going.
Q: It is everyone’s responsibility not to live tied to mainstream radios that go their own way. People should keep listening to music in Arabic, Italian, French…
A: It is said that way. The idea is to keep exploring sounds beyond the usual radio playlist and to let diverse languages enrich the repertoire.
Q: Now they are changing language again: the next record will be in Catalan, the first in their career.
A: They feel an urge, honestly. Yet they admit they do it because they can afford it. The last tour went great, they felt a rebirth, so they’re considering it. They don’t know how it will turn out, but they’re excited. It might not work financially, which, after fifty, would be rough.
Q: When they have played a Catalan song outside Catalonia, how did the audience react?
A: In some places, they’ve been booed for no clear reason. People fear that their favorite band might take a bold leap. The audience is sovereign and can do as they please. Songs should not be judged by language or gender. If you miss this one, that’s a pity — it’s going to be a good one.
Q: In a moment of great polarization, is music a political weapon?
A: Perhaps in their parents’ era, when the Catalan canta movement rose, it was a response to oppression. During the process there wasn’t much cultural exchange. Today, thankfully, they’re unashamed. Just look at how venues fill when Mushkaa and Julieta come to Madrid. There aren’t as many prejudices anymore.
Q: Last October, for example, Joan Dausà sold out the Palacio de Vistalegre with 10,000 people.
A: Wonderful to see. It’s everyone’s responsibility not to live waiting for mainstream radios to decide what goes on. People should keep listening to music in Arabic, Italian, French… Each person has to build their own algorithm, and that freedom will grow.
Q: Over fifty, do things matter less or more?
A: He thinks about it daily and hasn’t reached a conclusion. Honestly, he hopes for a mystical revelation soon. The world feels wild, and artists are the ones who can help make sense of it.
Q: What is more dangerous: money or fame?
A: Money is unknown to him because he’s never had much. Yet he loves fame, at least the kind Sidonie enjoys. At the restaurant where they ate, they were recognized and asked for photos. It happens with respect. He has dated more famous people and knows how brutal it can be not to even sit at a table.
Q: Don’t you sense that the club culture is vanishing?
A: Exactly. They wouldn’t have done Movistar Arena without their manager. While their music is built for venues, it seems the industry expects a different test. The scene will watch them closely. It will feel like an upgraded Sidecar, with a bit more space to move.
Q: On a poetic level, they don’t know how to fit the word desalojo into a rhyme. Still, anyone could guess our political stance without spelling it out.
Q: What will the upcoming songs talk about?
A: When the Catalan language began to shape his writing, he wanted irony. The results were clumsy lyrics. He remains single, and the chance to meet someone is still there, so he keeps writing about love. He plans to keep exploring it. With the exception of a track like Maravilloso, politics doesn’t come up in his music.
Q: Is it fair to say they are a political band?
A: Poetically, desalojo still wouldn’t fit a rhyme. But it’s clear what their political stance is, even without naming it. On a personal level, they participate in protests and make the necessary contributions.
Q: If Pedro Sánchez heard just one song, which would it be?
They’re there. He has even performed it at a rally. They know they appeal to both sides. Their dressing room is always open to them, and a beer is shared while each side speaks. The mother who raised him taught him to show respect. And once a band reaches ten thousand followers, and they have a hundred thousand, you don’t truly know what people think or vote. You just hope their songs help the world move in a better direction.
Q: When everything has an expiry date, what’s the trick to keep going?
A: The restaurant chef just told them he woke at three in the morning to buy fish at the market. It hit home, because while McDonald’s would be easy and tempting, here they take care of the product. So this isn’t an easy job for him, but it’s worth it.