When he was in 5th grade of EGB, Ramon Faura discovered Wooly Bully, by Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs, the first song that blew his mind. At eleven, after John Lennon's assassination, he delved into the world of the Beatles, who became his monomania during the transition between childhood and adolescence. Later, his mother gave him the first volume of Orbis' History of Rock: a compilation of the Rolling Stones from the 60s. "That album had Route 66, Satisfaction… that's when I told myself: 'I want to do this in life,'" laughs the musician, composer, and architect, as he sips an afternoon Veruga vodka to the rhythm of Huey 'Piano' Smith's Don't You Just Know It.
A singular mind in Barcelona's musical fabric, an elusive talent impossible to pigeonhole, a tireless seeker of sonic and intellectual stimuli, independent to the core, Ramon debuted at the helm of his first band, Los Interrogantes, in 1986, "at a mod party organized in Zeleste by artist Pop Ringo Julián."
After five years of trajectory, he founded the Blue Tibidabo Hill Company, a project focused on exploring the more acidic and electric side of blues. "Until, in the 90s, I discovered three things: on one hand, the britpop of Supergrass or Blur; secondly, the electronic music of Chemical Brothers. And, thirdly, Latin and Afro-Cuban music, and I added all that to my background, because I have always been about adding, rather than substituting." This is how Azucarillo Kings were born, founded with Carles Mestre, "who brought the rumba vision and who is, above all, a friend: someone I feel comfortable with, because for me it's not worth getting into projects if it's not with like-minded people."
The adventure ended in 2001 "after a crazy year, combining the band with my final Architecture degree project." After that, the regular tried to dedicate himself exclusively to architecture, but by 2002 he had already realized that, like sharks that die if they stop swimming, he could not live without making music.
The many faces of the death of modernity
His next project, Le Petit Ramón, lasted between 2002 and 2015, the year the musician told himself that it had given all it could. "Those were the years when I learned and grew the most musically. With the band, we recorded six albums, always with the constant sounds of blues, R&B, and psychedelia, mixed with other languages."
But while music continued its course, and after Le Petit Ramon, the regular created the electronic project YAK42, ten years ago another idea was brewing in his head. "The need to combine my great passions for music and architecture." Ramon Faura began to squeeze neurotransmitters and the result is a trilogy of books he is currently working on, which offers a structural look at the end of modernity in the West in the 60s from different angles. These range from the atomic bomb to cybernetics, passing through drugs, the end of the colonial era and, of course, all the changes experienced by music and architecture as expressions of a loss of identity spirit towards a new ethical and aesthetic paradigm. An ambitious work, which interconnects points to explain the end and the beginning of a notion of the world, through the changes experienced in its culture, society and economy.
"The first volume is already ready to come out, I have been working on it very intensely for four years," announces the musician who, in parallel, has not stopped teaching architecture at Elisava, studying piano in depth, collaborating with the group Los Cuatro Señores and founding a new musical project, Mongosónica, together with Vicente Leone. "An electronic garage band," as he defines it, for which he hopes to soon count on his old companion Carles Mestre. "This trio formation is the future, I see it," he laughs.
It remains infinite
"I am the typical Barcelonian who spends the day lamenting about the city, but in reality, I am the only one in my circle of friends who has not gone to live elsewhere. I am from Barcelona through and through and, deep down, my love for it is total, eternal," acknowledges the musician, who associates the city's charm with a childhood spent exploring its streets and meanders hand in hand with his grandfather. "And I keep discovering it, I keep finding new corners. It remains, for me, in some way, infinite." He sips a long drink of vodka.
"Nevertheless ---he continues--- there is something that is killing it, and it is the fact of selling it for a plate of lentils, while we remain anchored in that snobbery of believing we are the best, and in the end people who have no affection for Barcelona are selling it, prioritizing quick profit over any other consideration," he laments, finishes his drink and makes a gesture to go outside to smoke a Lucky.
--- Will you want to have dinner after Veruga?
Ramon Faura stops. The notes of Havin' a good time by Huey 'Piano' Smith resonate in the atmosphere, the Bar livens up. After thinking for a few brief seconds, he asks:
--- Do you have pulpo a feira?
--- Are you kidding? It's one of our star dishes!
And he smiles, claiming a portion as soon as he returns from smoking his cigarette.