delicious legacy: Carlos Tena and Àngel Casas interviewing Bob Marley for Popgrama on TVE in Ibiza during the summer of 1978 remains a vivid moment in music journalism. Is this love was echoing through the air as Marley arrived by plane after a long Iberia flight, his hat touched with a hint of Dogon symbolism. They greeted him at the arena’s entrance before his Spanish debut, a first for many, though not the only one claimed at times since he later performed in Barcelona and Madrid. They settled on the steps of a doorway, the scene already buzzing with electricity and curiosity.
That era’s approach feels almost unrecognizable today: immediate access from the airport runway, no opaque barrier between artist and press, a pop star who spoke without a prepared sales pitch, initially sleepy in tone with words like Rastafari and positivity surfacing, before stepping into the garden to engage with Haile Selassie, the last Ethiopian emperor. The interview touches on a past assassination attempt, and Marley deflects with a calm, thoughtful refusal, saying it never weighed on his mind. The dialogue comes across in real time, imperfect and faltering at moments, yet vibrant and human, aided briefly by a translator who helps bridge the moments when language stumbles, while the audiovisual machinery of coming times begins to loom in the background.
Carlos Tena stands out as a pioneer of pop music journalism, a trailblazer who had to push through rough territory to pave the way for others. He embraced the challenge with a sense of playfulness and a healthy dose of audacity. Those years were formative: artists toured internationally, press access was more conversational, and the interview became a shared experience rather than a choreographed promo. Tena’s knack for blending humor with a fearless, almost rebellious spirit helped redefine how musicians communicated with audiences—the sort of candid exchange that modern media often lacks when filtered through a long chain of intermediaries. His approach opened doors for journalists in a landscape that demanded both speed and sincerity, and it is a reminder of a time when the interview could feel like a spontaneous conversation rather than a curated segment. This record, preserved in memory and archive, illustrates why those early moments still matter to fans and scholars alike, a touchstone for how the press could interact with legendary figures on a human level.
And then the history grows more personal. The Eivissa bullfighting scene fades from memory, replaced by the enduring image of the Bob Marley Jardins, a living tribute to that evening. Both Àngel Casas and Carlos Tena have since passed away, joined by a cohort of other influential broadcasters and interviewers who shaped the cultural conversation. The industry has changed so much: influencers, short-form clips, and direct creator-audience dialogue have altered the texture of media. Yet the core impulse endures—the impulse to listen first, to ask with curiosity, and to let the moment unfold without coercion. The pioneers like Tena paved a path for a future where journalism and music intersect in a way that honors authenticity and human connection, even as the platforms and formats evolve. Their work serves as a reminder that there was a time when the press could accompany an artist on tour, sharing raw, unfiltered experience with an audience that craved real insight. In the end, these memories become part of a broader narrative about the evolution of pop culture and the role of radio and television in shaping it, a testament to the enduring pull of live, unguarded moments. [Citation: Popgrama archival footage and contemporary retrospectives].