The fact of seeing him arrive at the Bar implies that he is not "giving light to a new book," in which case he will only be found at home, "day and night, until he gets something clear. Of course, once finished and published, returning home becomes complicated and greatly prolonged," between daytime work and the pleasure of "transiting through the darkness of the night."
It's noon, an ideal time for "a vermouth with an olive, an orange slice, and a splash of soda," leaning against the bar and letting everything, starting with the background music, flow.
"At seventeen, I showed up at a posh bar in Castelldefels with the noble intention of spinning my meager but juicy vinyl collection, in exchange for the usual refreshments and zero pesetas. A deal I accepted without batting an eye, of course. The opportunity to listen to all that stuff on a good sound system and have people dance at my expense drove me crazy. Not to mention the glorious opportunity that gave me to show off in front of the chicks."
That moment was decisive in the future of journalist, writer, and music activist, Luis Costa, whose career has never ceased to be linked to various notes and beats, whether writing or spinning records in countless clubs and parties "for lost souls and other nocturnal fauna of all stripes to dance to." An activity he thoroughly enjoys "and on top of that, they pay me and serve me liquors to wet my whistle. Amazing, but true."
These days sees the publication of his third book, Dance usted (Anagrama), "an essay on dance that comes out in the legendary Nuevos Cuadernos collection of the publishing house, recovered for some time now to the joy and delight of all. Publishing alongside heroes, admired and greeted like Billy Bragg, Ian McEwan, Emmanuel Càrrere, Michel Houellebecq, Kiko Amat, Lucía Lijtmaer, Eloy Fernández Porta, or Paul B. Preciado, gives me extreme happiness."
Starting point, the underground
After that baptism of fire at the turntables of that venue in Castelldefels, "and after my regrettable and dispensable stint in underground fanzines," Luis Costa decided to dedicate himself "to this writing thing and earning a living from it." It was during his first year of university. "I had been collaborating for free in free media whose name I don't want to remember, all very 90s, yes... During that first year, as I said, I started collaborating in the Rock and Clàssics supplement of Avui, ranting about electronic music, or dance, or chumba-chumba. And until today."
The regular decided to dedicate himself "to this writing thing and earning a living from it" during his first year of universityMost of his day is dedicated to working for Razzmatazz's press service, "for too many years now; all the years I've been able to trick the company into keeping a payroll and taking care of my own." In 2016, he debuted with his first book, the acclaimed and widely reissued Cod, an oral history of the club and disco dance scene in Valencia, between 1980 and 1995, of which he is particularly proud. "To manage to assemble a literary artifact that had a minimum of sense and dramatic tension was already an achievement beyond my capabilities and my meager talent. Seeing it published was already a feast from which I have not yet recovered." It is followed, in 2020, by the publication ofBalearic, which compiles, through more than a hundred interviews, the history of dance music scenes in the Pitiüses.
--- And I also have two wonderful children.
--- Oh, how nice! And musically, do they follow in their father's footsteps?
The journalist and writer Luis Costa smiles, proudly: "The older one likes the musical cream of all eras and revolutions per minute, with a final stop in the latest hip hop, like Future and other youth idols that I would be unable to reproduce." And here the parishioner's smile stops. "The younger one, intoxicated and perverted by school friendships and parents' car radios where he should never have gotten in, likes that unmentionable style of Latin roots, misogynistic temperament, and terrible taste. It's a scenario as painful as, I hope, temporary and circumstantial."
Beloved city, despite everything
"I love Barcelona, despite everything and the gentrifications. And I love the people of Barcelona. This city and I have a wonderful, torrid, and passionate relationship. And, as it could not be otherwise, we are forced to let the air run every now and then."
--- And how do you do that?
--- Well, I try to get away to wherever they pour the best beer; so you can easily find me at Madrid bars. Beer and tapas is my religion.
Luis Costa, like so many other Barcelonans, is in love with the city's history. "I am fascinated by that atmosphere of the Chinese quarter at the beginning of the 20th century, which I have been able to recover through music, cinema, literature, photography, theater, or painting. Immigration, the lumpen, the hustling, the prostitutes, the marines, flamenco, the tablaos, absinthe. I would have trouble choosing, at a given moment and with a view to time travel, to decide whether to stand in Arc del Teatre in 1930 or on Tusset Street in 1967, specifically on February 13, the day Boccaccio opened."
--- And something you can say you find repugnant about the city?
--- Well, look, repugnant, what you call repugnant, nothing. But I have to say that I am a different person since the La Baguetina Catalana bakery chain disappeared from the map.