Didac Piquer: surfing against the current

At twelve, he discovered the Beach Boys and knew that from that moment on, life would never be the same. "I Get Around was the song that blew my mind, the one I couldn't stop listening to," recalls Didac Piquer, nursing an evening beer with his elbows on the bar, reflecting on that first sonic detonation that would set the pace and intensity for every fire to come.

Everything else followed naturally. "At thirteen, I bought my first Beach Boys' cassette tape, and from there I just kept pulling the thread: Elvis, Jan & Dean, Roy Orbison…" He soon realised the whole thing went far beyond music, woven through with film, literature, art. Subcultural ethics and aesthetics, "a refuge from a reality you're stuck with and don't connect with, that pushes you to build a private world of your own."

He studied graphic arts and worked at various print shops, but at twenty-six he dropped everything to start making surfboards, "which is still what I do." What sets Montjuich Surfboards apart — the brand named after those childhood moments spent on the mountain of the same name, before he moved to the Maresme in his early teens — is that "I make the boards following the same concepts, aesthetics and techniques used between 1959 and 1979." Nearly a quarter of a century on, this craftsmanship still satisfies a demand among some highly discerning surfers.

But beyond helping a handful of daredevils catch waves in style, Didac has stayed deeply involved in Barcelona's underground music scene, going to gigs — "sometimes meeting greats like Dick Dale or Davie Allan and realising that, as people, they leave a lot to be desired" — and building up a wealth of knowledge that, at some point, he felt he had to share with the world.

Telling the whole story, and breaking the stereotypes

"I've kept writing articles for outlets like Ruta 66 and Custom Machine, or fanzines like NDF, on everything from Hot Rod and Low Rider culture to 1960s beach films and the history of surf culture; but in 2006 I took things further with Summer Fun," says Didac Piquer, of the first book ever published in Spain devoted to surf music, published by Editorial Milenio.

But there was more, much more, brewing in his head, all of it circling back to California as the great unifying force behind a vast and layered universe with room for endless things: those tanned surfers of decades past, but also pop films, raucous music scenes, customised cars, strange clothes, even stranger hair, and drugs of every denomination. Hidden worlds bound together by a common thread of the strange, the unheard-of, the daring, the illegal, the aberrant, the brilliant. Frames of reality beyond imagining. A constellation thick with myths and legends, dreamed-up facts and proven ones, on which somebody needed to have, more or less, the final word.

"The Once Upon a Time in… California series was born thirteen years ago, when Gonzalo Aixa founded The Fishbone Project and I put to him an idea that had been on my mind: compiling, in a single work, the whole countercultural and subcultural substratum of twentieth-century California." The idea took hold, and Didac got to work. The result is an imposing five-volume corpus, thoroughly researched, the first instalment of which — Myths and Legends of the Golden State — has just been published: a dazzling, necessary plunge into California's sonic and youth undergrounds, "where I try to break with the stereotypes and clichés." The definitive account of a place and an era, written in a brisk, highly readable style.

The vital energy that endures

Since 2003, this regular's relationship with Barcelona has been purely recreational. It's where he comes for gigs, or a few beers with friends, "when the city lets me, because getting here is a hassle, between Rodalies never working and the difficulty of driving in," he laments.

He grew up in Sant Antoni, and despite the changes — "common to any major city in the developed world" — that have brought mass tourism and gentrification in their wake, coming back to Barcelona still connects him to "the vital energy of the city where I was born and grew up. An umbilical cord tying us to where we come from, one that never quite breaks," he reflects, finishing off the last of his beer.

— One thing that can certainly reinforce that bond is our food scene. Dinnertime's approaching, and perhaps you fancy a bite to eat, or something to nibble on…

At this point, Didac Piquer confesses to having "a pretty uneducated palate. Mostly I just want to fill my stomach with something simple, nothing subtle." After a moment's thought, he adds: "Not something I'm particularly proud of."

— Well, that sounds like ideal grounds for a slice of pa amb tomàquet and some good ham.

The regular smiles and agrees. "Sounds great," he declares. "And if it comes with a little wine, even better."

— Coming right up!