

something has happened in the last 10 years - you see more young people get interested in not just music, but the search for their origins or for something that makes sense for them.

For a lot of time, it's been placed aside. In every province, you have a different type of folk. For example, I think in Spain there's a rich musical world, and it's also endemic in every area in Spain. I think my generation sees traditional music in a different way than our parents or our grandparents. When I've seen people making references to tradition or folk or something that comes from an old place, it's always treated in a decadent way - in the aesthetics and the sound of it. was a really beautiful moment when everybody got together again and the streets came with life and with youth, you know? And the older guys were like, "Here comes la cantera!" The younger generations, the descendants of all these people, left the village to go to the big city. It was when we used to go back to our village, in my hometown - Las Cuevas - it's a village with 70 people living there, and most of the people are over their 80s. The first meaning came from a childhood memory. But then it also feels very focused on youth and modernity in a way. Your album, La Cantera, sounds very much like an ode to family and tradition and your roots. I think that when you sing in your mother language, you can express much better and in a really much more honest way. Starting in Spanish was a really big revelation because I started feeling myself more or the sense of what I was saying. It wasn't until I was maybe 20 that I really put all my energy into music. This was the music that made me feel genuine, that I understood as something that came from a really beautiful place. And my dad liked disco music - it was a big melange of everything. My mom was a really big fan of Violeta Parra and musica como indicativa. My -grandad used to be jota teacher and guitar and bandurria teacher in my village. Growing up at home or with my friends in my village, I used to listen a lot of things, like Spanish rock music from the '80s or the '90s, to a lot of flamenco - but also a lot of jota because of my grandparents. There's nature and nurture, when you are born in a place and naturally listen to what happens around you. I consider that there's two ways of discovering music. So it was influenced by my family and the music that I listened to in my childhood: Guitarricadelafuente - because that's my last name - as an homage to my origins.Ĭan you tell me about some of that music you grew up with and how it influenced the music that you're making now? There is a naming there in Aragon that puts "ico" or "ica" at the ends of words. This region in Spain is really linked to a folk musical style called jota. The music that I was raised with was my family's village in Aragon. Álvaro Lafuente: My artistic name came from a really natural place. Isabella Gomez Sarmiento, Weekend Edition : Where does your artistic name come from? This conversation has been edited for length and clarity. NPR's Isabella Gomez Sarmiento sat down with Guitarricadelafuente to discuss his familial roots, the elasticity in his sound and the song that earned him a Latin Grammy nomination for best short form music video. But the album also stretches Lafuente's voice and melodies across a variety of Autotune, '80s Spanish rock references and a Spanish Civil War song. His family's sonic legacy of folklore and bandurria builds the backbone for Lafuente's debut, La Cantera, released earlier this year. So for Lafuente - who performs as Guitarricadelafuente- looking back on the traditions of his grandparents' tiny village in Aragon, Spain is a way of reconstructing a home and identity that he can actually make sense of. The 24-year-old musician from Benicàssim, Spain, says the internet's never-ending references and influences makes it hard to solidly latch on to anything. Álvaro Lafuente is part of a generation that grew up with access to a lot of information.
