"I live in two dimensions, one more earthly and another, which for me is essential, in which I spend the day thinking about songs, writing, composing, playing, recording takes or building modular synthesizers and guitar pedals." Sitting on the terrace, hearing how Mort Garson's cosmic synthesizers and spoken word from the Zodiac series emerge from inside the Bar, Enric Chalaux sips an Iris vermouth and rolls a cigarette. "My friends are the ones who usually bring me down to earth because, if it were up to me, I would be in that other dimension all the time," he laughs.
When he entered the Barcelona music scene, joining the band Stay, the musician already had an unusual background, to say the least. "I played the sitar, which I had learned with Jesús from Sidonie and with an Indian guru based in Barcelona, and other instruments like the Turkish saz, African percussion, or the theremin." That background led Stay to shift towards a sound more focused on 60s psychedelia: something less rock and roll and much more permeable to non-Western sonic heritage. "To all those musics out there."
Sounds that inhabit that other dimension of Enric, a wandering soul who exulted that day in Honolulu, "when I landed after spending a month in Los Angeles, where my suitcase had been stolen and, suddenly, I lay down on the grass and let myself be carried away by the sounds, the breeze, the murmur of Hawaiian guitars, and that experience reconfigured me as a person."
Or that other day, in the Rif of Morocco, looking for Brian Jones' Joujouka, "playing with people from there and immersing myself in a stratospheric state of trance," recalls the musician and composer, who confesses that, although he likes live performances, his natural habitat is the recording studio, "where I can experiment and develop the sound. Where, sometimes, from the discards of one song, two others are born."
Of vampires and psychedelic loves
After his time with Stay, who recently celebrated two decades of their journey, Enric Chalaux founded Aleppo Pine, a project focused on acid folk, with whom he recorded two exquisite albums, "although the second only saw the light in digital format, because as soon as we finished recording it, the group disbanded."
The next adventure was with Magma Malone, with whom he recorded the EP Le ciel interdit and the single Les vampires bronzées ---of which he is particularly proud---, and with whom he became fed up "with a Barcelona where you have to pay to play in venues instead of performing and getting paid your fee," so he moved to Lyon. There he re-founded the band and dedicated himself to playing and organizing events, "until the pandemic arrived and all that ended, but at the same time it gave me time to set up a studio at home."
Once settled among instruments and amplifiers, feeding his other dimension, the artist began to work on his next project, Vampirámide, a name that betrays his love for the writer and playwright Théophile Gautier, author of La morte amoureuse.
Due to life's vicissitudes, the regular had to leave Lyon and, after a brief stop in the Ciudad Condal, he was forced to leave it "due to its abusive prices that literally drive people out of here." Now he lives in Benicarló, "but every now and then I'm in Barcelona, because I have all the setup here that allows me to move forward with Vampirámide." He has already recorded several albums for this project and, shortly, the first one will be released by Flower Canyon Records, after publishing the advance single, Romance vampiro, with a videoclip made ---of course--- by Enric himself.
Where is the artistic feeling?
"In Barcelona there are wonderful things, such as Magick Brother & Mystic Sister, who do wonderful things, but the city lacks having the artistic feeling in the air, which I have seen, for example, in Lyon or other cities I have traveled to," reasons the musician.
--- What do you mean by artistic feeling?
He sips a drink of vermouth. "I mean that everything here is so institutionalized that a lot of talent leaves, because this city does not allow things to be done in a free, independent, and minority way. Either it goes through the institutionalized filter or it goes through market logic, and that alienates many artists who do not fit that scheme." And he finishes his drink, before concluding: "And it's a shame, because something I love about Barcelona is the open attitude and collaborative spirit of many people. Many more things could be done."
--- While you think about all that could be done, and considering that it's already lunchtime, can we tempt you with our gastronomic offer?
Enric Chalaux instantly descends from his dimension, from that vital trance of songs and arrangements and sounds on the edge of palpable reality, and smiles.
"A serving of grilled squid with garlic and parsley would make me very happy," he replies. And before there's time to place the order, he adds: "And then I'll want to see what's for dessert, because, that's for sure: I never miss dessert!"