Style: Pop, soft rock, folk rock They're in the list because... Efe Eme magazine rewarded them with a whopping #11 out of 200.
In my mind, this rank is the crux of the criticism that one could leverage at this attempt of canonizations. Because a list that excludes Barón Rojo, Siniestro Total or Mecano while including this - a somewhat minor hit from a one-album folk rock band only remembered largely by vindicators of the 70s - would probably get urges to shout "INVALID!".
That one album is excellent, though.
Solera were Jose Antonio Martín, Manolo Martín (they were brothers and had already recorded under the name Juan y Manuel), Rodrigo García and José María Guzmán (session guitarist and bassist, respectively, who could also sing). The last two would left after that only album to form Cánovas, Rodrigo, Adolfo y Guzmán, and since CRAG have frequently been referred to as "the Spanish CSNY", it would be tempting to call Solera the Spanish Buffalo Springfield, but actually their music were closer to, say, Left Banke or the Association.
The album, named after the group, was recorded by Hispavox (later fused with EMI in the 80s), one of the labels of the era who had an identifiable sound, in this case the "Torrelaguna sound" (after the name of the street in Madrid in which the record company was located), manned by the Italian producer Rafael Trabucchelli, whose trademark was clear production, carefully recorded vocals and acoustic guitars, the typical emphasis of Italian producers on integrating the bass and drums into the larger ensemble, orchestrations (subtle in this album), and lead instruments like harpsichords, recorders and xylophones weaved into the arrangements.
Although Solera (1973) seems nowadays simply a cult record, the truth is that the album was actively promoted by Hispavox, and they appeared in TV promoting the two songs that were released in the single, as we can see in the two following clips.
"Linda prima" (Pretty cousin) was the "important" number, sung by Rodrigo; Guzmán tackles the other song, "Las calles del viejo París".
(As a curiosity, if one looks around in Youtube there's another TV clip for "Linda prima", more dramatized, but the weird thing is that although the Solera track is used, the band appearing in the clip is CRAG!)
And from the album tracks the most famous one is the opener - perfect sunshine pop. The album was quite varied and had some other songs fore in a folk rock vein, and Guzmán was an interesting and subtle electric guitarist. I wouldn't hesitate in recommending the whole thing.
My verdict: Great, but as I said, an example of bias induced by a small reference pool. I bet if this "metalist" had taken into consideration more than 4 lists, they would not be included. Thanks to this small accident, though, I've had the excuse to share my thoughts on an album that certainly deserves recognition.
Style: Rock, singer-songwriter He's in the list because... Rolling Stone magazine listed Avería y redención #7 as the 14th best Spanish album. I don't even think it's the best album by Quique, but that slight overrating at least saved him from meta-list oblivion, as he's the perennial guy loved by critics but always bubbling under the mid-to-low ranks in every list.
Quique González is the kind of artist that critics and fans rave about but who is almost never mentioned in the mainstream channels. For someone who was more interested in artistic expression than fame, however, he had quite a lucky start: his guitar teacher was Carlos Raya, an ex-guitarist with Sangre Azul and future M-Clan, and the club he used to play in frequently billed Enrique Urquijo y Los Problemas, a side project of Enrique Urquijo, the leader of Los Secretos, who recorded one of Quique's songs and played it with him on national TV.
Those contacts lead him to be signed by Universal, which began one of the strangest record deal stories ever...
Quique's following was pretty much word of mouth. For example, I discovered him with his first album, but not through radio, but because of a glowing review of one of his shows by a reporter from the Spanish edition of "Total Guitar", and the magazine was kind enough to include the album's title track in the CD. Personal is what the name suggests: meaningful, personal lyrics, over a classic rock background. Think American rock a la Tom Petty, Springsteen, etc. But the album was not a big hit - a sin in 1998, when music productions were still done by the "old" rules, budgets were big and returns were expected to be bigger. So Universal drops him.
Instead of the title track, since this is Quique's most guitar-heavy album, I will link to the rockiest single:
So, without a record label, Quique records his second album independently, in a softer, acoustic style, more in the vein of the neo-singer-songwriters that are blooming at the time. He offers the demo to Polygram, which is in the process of merging with Universal. Universal honchos listen to it and sign Quique again!
Salitre 48 had a couple of fast and midtempo songs, but its remembered by songs like this:
But corporate decisions in the Universal / Polygram merger make them include Quique in the artists-to-be-dropped list, only for Universal to sign him AGAIN. It's no wonder that, sick of it, after the release of his third album, Quique is the one who asks for leave and walks out.
Tired of the record industry, Quique González decides to go the craft way. He plays small venues, many times only with acoustic guitar and harmonica, and self-produces his albums. Once a little known acclaimed artisan, now that he's an "outsider", paradoxically his name starts to circulate as he becomes the poster boy of the do-it-yourself aesthetic. Meanwhile his freedom to do what he likes means that he now can record backed only by piano, guitar and violin for a full album if he so likes. So he does.
And it means that he can do a 180º and do a record of pure American rock taste just afterwards. From La noche americana comes "Vidas cruzadas", the song that Rolling Stone chose as his best in his 200 songs list (which didn't influence the meta-list, as it was not in the top 50), but I present here "Justin y Britney". I bet neither he nor she ever thought they were going to be namechecked in a Southern rock inspired song.
Okay, yes, I should put "Vidas cruzadas" here, but I thought I'd use the live collaboration with Iván Ferreiro he released in his first live album - with which he returned to usual recording deals, and which was a minor hit.
The return to the record industry means the return to a more mainstream rock format. Avería y redención #7 is a good album, maybe a bit more faceless than before, but it is hyped by Rolling Stone to high heavens, and in fact it's this album which makes him to be included in the meta-list. He probably senses there is something missing - so he returns to self-producing. His latest two albums have been recorded in Nashville (with the very good collaboration of Al Perkins on pedal steel)
My verdict: interesting auteur with several really great moments and good lyrics. Never got the fame he might have deserved, but he got the respect - and, given that his most interesting projects have been those he wrote when not signed into the corporate machine (including his two first albums, which he composed while unsigned), maybe we are all better off for it. Like!
Style:Pop-rock, singer-songwriter He's in the list because... Rolling Stone magazine thinks "El sitio de mi recreo" is the 15th best Spanish pop song.
Antonio Vega's place in history is assured by his stint as co-leader of Nacha Pop, more on which later. The curious thing is that, if critics and radio playlists are to be believed, his biggest solo hit was a demo included in a compilation album, but he did some crafty enjoyable records until his death in 2009.
During his stint in Nacha Pop, Antonio had made himself a name as the more intimist and personal half of the group, as opposed to the more straightforward approach of co-leader and cousin Nacho García Vega, and while not an entirely household name he was well respected among his peers. With that baggage he recorded his first solo album, No me iré mañana (1991), from which the famous song is this one, in the style he's remembered for, introspective acoustic ballads. Antonio himself admitted that its lyrics contain an allusion to his heroin addiction.
He still knew how to be an enjoyable electric guitarist, however, even when penning breakup songs. "Lo mejor de nuestra vida", the clip below, is probably the most commercial of the album's rockers, but it has short bursts of his famously melodic lead guitar. From this album I also like "Esperando Nada", with an excellent guitar solo, and which was covered later by the Chilean singer Nicole.
And now we get to one of those cosmic coincidences nobody expects. While busy preparing his second album, the compilation El sitio de mi recreo (1992) hits the market. The album collects some of his best Nacha Pop songs with a couple of the highlights of his previous album and two unreleased songs. One of them being the title track - which was a demo, as the song was intended to be released in his next album. But it's thrown into the album as bait and played on radio - and it, and the compilation, became a big success, to the point that although the finished song was eventually released, the demo version is the one that everybody remembers. Here Antonio plays the song live. (Personal trivia: I have always found that the slowing guitar phrase in the intro reminds me of Queen's "Is this the world we created?")
The success renews the interest in Antonio Vega, and his record company records a tribute album, Ese chico triste y solitario. Naturally the release in such a short time of a career-encompassing compilation and a tribute album (titled "That sad and lonesome boy" no less) spark all kind of rumours about the state of Vega's health. But he was not sick - he was in London, recording Océano de sol with the production duties handled by Phil Manzanera. Antonio was not ultimately satisfied, calling the result "overproduced", as do several critics. Personally I think that the thing is, having just had a big hit with a sparse, intimist recording in a compilation of mostly low key efforts, the public was maybe not ready to embrace him in a full production effort. Here's the title track.
Anatomía de una ola (1998), De un lugar perdido (2001) and 3000 noches con Marga (2005) comprise the rest of his original albums, but his activities do not slow down as much as it might seem. Being well respected and connected, he becomes a frequent composer for other artists and a fixture in tribute albums, so much as to fill a whole album, Escapadas, with such covers and collaborations. Also, he releases a couple of live albums and participates in a Nacha Pop reunion tour. However, all this activity could not win against the lung cancer he had developed, and a bout of neumonia makes him cancel his 2009 tour. He died shortly after.
My verdict: Well worth investigating, but I would start the exploration with his Nacha Pop output before diving into his "mature" output. His special sensitiveness will always find a place in the heart of many music lovers, though, and even with his reputation of being personal and introspective, his pop background ensures that his albums are always enjoyable and don't fall prey to the "endless 50 minute song" syndrome.
Style: Rock They are in the canon because... Rolling Stone Magazine's 200 songs list had "Mi Calle" at number 17. It's surprisingly high but given that musicians and people from the business were part of the voting, it shows how influential the song was.
We're talking 60s pioneers now. One thing to have in mind is that, while in America or Britain rock came from the working classes and art students, in Spain it was, in the beginning, mainly adopted by college students, since they were the only ones with the means to buy electric instruments and/or travel outside Spain, which was, remember, an isolated nation under an authoritarian regime.
In this case the leader of the band was vocalist Pedro Gené, a classically trained piano student from Barcelona who had earned a grant to study in the UK and who returned with a love for the new sounds and an electric guitar (he played rhythm). Soon he formed a band with his music school pal Enrique Fusté (piano) and they recruited Rafael de la Vega (bass), Enrique López (drums) and Willy Nab (a Dutch who played Shadows-style lead guitar despite missing part of his third and fourth left hand fingers). They chose the name Lone Star and signed a contract with La Voz de su Amo (i.e. "His Master's Voice", a label of EMI-Odeon, the Spanish division of EMI).
Unfortunately the company reserved full A&R decisions, one of which was that the group was forced to only record covers, and not only rock covers at that. They were not to release any other format but EPs, which was the predominant format in Spain in those days (singles were rare and LPs were rarer still), which were filled with Italian and Latin covers, Spanish adaptations of bad Elvis songs, timid adaptations of twist songs and the occasional rock song like "My Babe", with Gené singing in Spanish, English and Italian, and with a certain Latin crooner afectation in the Spanish-sung tracks that didn't anticipate the ferocious roar he would be associated with later in his career. Fusté left after the first of those EPs, the group remaining a quartet for the rest of their career, and a short time after Nab was replaced by Joan Miró (no relationship with the famous painter), a high school acquaintance of Gené who at first played workmanlike yet tentative guitar but with the years would evolve into one of the most acclaimed guitarists in the country.
Nevertheless, the band was dissatisfied with the material they were doing, but EMI didn't want to hear about Gene's compositions and ideas. In those times, the pop rock strategy of the company was to have bands who, while not exclusively, would specialize in Spanish language covers of a certain artist. "Los Mustangs are our Beatles, Los Salvajes are our Stones and we need now someone who can be our Animals". So through gritted teeth, the quartet put themselves to work and recorded a cover of "House of the rising sun". And voilá - number #1 in Venezuela and later Spain, where "La casa del sol naciente" outsold the Animals' version.
The same EP had also a cover of "I'm Crying" which cemented their "Spanish Animals" image, so for their next few releases they didn't fail to include an Animals cover (usually with Gené switching to organ) alongside Beatles, Stones, Kinks and even Who covers. The title track of the next EP, "Comprensión", was another hit, and it's a very good cover of "Don't let me be misunderstood" worth hearing. And while the very next one, "Satisfacción" was named after their cover of "Satisfaction" (which, frankly, was done better by Los Salvajes), maybe the best song in it was this cover of "We've Gotta Get Out Of This Place".
Given the success of the operation, and that both bands were distributed by the same company, EMI organized an encounter between Lone Star and The Animals in Madrid which included photo-ops, press releases and even a double-bill concert. (Which seems like a classic lame-brained record exec decision. Thank God that Lone Star had more repertoire than just Animals covers, otherwise what was the idea? That people would hear the same songs twice?)
Fortunately, the band did eventually break through this phase. In 1966 EMI concedes two things: a) they can record albums and b) they can record their own songs. Their first album, simply called Lone Star, is a bit uneven and patchy but two of the best songs were included in an accompanying EP: the album opener, "Río Sin Fin", which was a Spanish version of "River Deep Mountain High" (amazingly the tune works in a sparse arrangement as well) and "La Leyenda", their first important composition. The only non-album track from the EP was the title track, a smoking (English sung) version of "It's A Man's Man's Man's World". As a curiosity, during the recording of the album the titular guitar player was Álex Sánchez (who would be their guitar player from the late 70s onwards) due to Joan Miró being busy with his military service (which was mandatory in Spain until the late 90s).
Let's advance to 1968. This is the year in which EPs give way to singles. In fact, despite having already recorded an album, commercially Lone Star would be for many years primarily a singles band, with their albums being mostly special releases showing different sides of the band apart from their singles career. For example their two 1968 albums are thematic: Vuelve el Rock was covers of rock'n'roll oldies and Lone Star en Jazz was what the title suggests. I hear you: Jazz? Yes. Lone Star had formed in the jazz clubs of Barcelona and had good knowledge of the language. They even played jazz dates with the same lineup - only that Pedro Gené switched to piano, Rafael de la Vega played acoustic double bass and Joan Miró switched to vibraphone (!). Here's something from the jazz album.
Actually when the album came out their jazz side was quite well known: they had debuted a two part show in Barcelona and Madrid (a recording of which came out in 2010 under the title Concierto Teatro Infanta Beatriz, Madrid, 1968) where they played a jazz half and a rock half in which they did not pull any punches, and the success was so big that the show was put on tour under the patronage of the Spanish government. But maybe the more important thing about 1968 for the "canon" purposes is THE Lone Star song. "Mi Calle" (which means "My Street"), of course. It's excellent, although it might sound quaint to ears not used to the European pop sounds; but it was, above all, very influential on the urban rockers of the next generation with its lyrics about life in the less glamorous parts of the city.
With this hit they launched their singles era. For years, Lone Star (now with a new drummer, Luis Masdeu, with a rockier, less jazz- and R&B-oriented approach) kept a prolific singles career, usually with the A sides being Spanish language songs oriented to radio - MOR pop compositions, powerful melodic vocals, string arrangements, the works - while the B-sides were in many cases rock songs, harder and/or more progressive than the A-sides, sometimes sung in English. For example here are two of their greatest hits. I don't particularly like the style, but they are well written and performed.
Those other sides were also explored in their albums, which, as stated before, were usually thematic in some way. For example, Spring 70 was marketed as a live album recorded in Germany and Switzerland, but actually the only thing recorded live were probably the audience sounds and the whole thing was just a ploy to release a 100% English language rock album crammed with fabulous musicianship - it's hard to believe how much Joan Miró's guitar playing had grown - with both originals and covers, like this one, of the Zombies' "She's Not There":
Es Largo El Camino from 1972 could actually be considered their second "regular" album after the 1966 one. The best song is probably "Pájaro de fuego" ("Fire Bird"): Gutsy but progressive. Jazzy piano, smoking guitar, 8 minutes. I Like. DON'T MISS IT.
Meanwhile Adelante - Rock En Vivo became their best seller. Despite the misleading name it's not a concert album but a "live in the studio" session. It opened with their usual mid-70s set opener, a hard rock song called "¡Adelante!" which we witness here played live in a TV special from 1975:
Since then, Lone Star spent the rest of the decade as some sort of elder statesmen as rock music came into prominence again in the late 70s, approaching the no-nonsense urban rock of the times with hard driving songs featuring lyrics that frequently touched on social commentary or were filled with self-referential descriptions of the rock and roll world, with several lineup changes over the years and releasing a couple of albums, the most interesting of which is probably Horizonte from 1977. In 1982 they released their last album of new material, which they re-recorded again in 1996 (alongside several old hits and signature songs).
My verdict: I LOVE THEM. I actually only knew "Mi Calle" when I started to research about this band and after sampling them I needed to further investigate these guys. I recommend diving into their catalogue - there are plenty of pearls to find. Believe me.
Style: Rock'n'roll, roots rock, pop rock He's in the list because... Efe Eme magazine deemed his album "Fiebre de Vivir" important enough to place it as #18 in their list.
In a typical case, we have here a pioneer of Argentinian rock who only appears in the list due to the impact he had when he relocated to Spain. Moris (born Mauricio Birabent) began in the 60s as part of bands like Beatniks (with which he did the first rock single ever recorded in Argentina) and Los Gatos, earning himself the title of "father of Argentinian rock", and went solo in 1970 with an album that is considered part of the canon of the Argentinian rock but virtually unknown in Spain. Later, due to the political climate he crossed the pond, and while he played in band settings, made a lot of impact in Spain with his solo shows in which he was playing only with an electric guitar and an array of pedals. In a reversal of sorts, he recorded (backed by Tequila, more on them in a later post) in 1978 an album which was tremendously influential in Spain but wasn't issued in Argentina until two years later. He recorded several albums that had modest success (the rootsy approach of rock'n'roll having faded from the mainstream) before relocating again in Argentina in the 1990s for good. His latest work of note is an album performed and written colaboratively with his son Antonio Birabent. But let's begin by stating the maybe not-so-obvious. What struck me about Moris is that, for all the rock'n'roll cred that is usually attached to him in Spanish mentions of him, his first solo works in Argentina sound more like typical singer-songwriter fare, part folkie part chansonnier à la Georges Brassens, and apparently there in his home country he's known for his poetic lyrics and his blend of rock aesthetic with tango attitudes as much as for his role in the foundation of Argentina's national rock scene. As an example it would suffice to listen to his first classic, "El Oso"; an acoustic fable from Treinta Minutos de Vida (1970) which is an Argentinian classic but couldn't be more removed from the stereotypical rock and roll sound we mentally attach to him in these latitudes.
Actually that's something that I've frequently seen in 60s band leaders in Spain as well; once they went solo in the 70s most of them turned softer, confessional or straight MOR melodic pop. In any case, the very homogeneous sound of the album also contributes to all the songs having a similar feel; just for demonstration purposes let us jump ahead a bit to this live recording of one of the most uptempo songs from the album, "De nada sirve" recorded during his Spanish stint, which shows that some of these songs had the potential to become rockier numbers.
His second Argentinian album, Ciudad de Guitarras Callejeras, was released in 1973 - it's not like he was a prolific artist, apparently - and was a bit more varied, if only because the differences between songs are made more prominent - the rockier stuff was wilder and the heartfelt stuff was more dramatic. A trick he also employed was to make longer songs which were actually multi-part, with a rockier or bluesier half going straight into a melodic one; in that regard "Muchacho del taller y la oficina" is emblematic.
But let us get Eurocentric for a moment. THIS is what made critics put Moris in the canon. "Sábado Noche" a/k/a "Sábado a la Noche" is probably the only song of Moris that most people have heard, whether the original, the cover by Miguel Ríos in his "Rock & Ríos" live album or the version that Los Rodríguez did in their early shows. And yes, the lyrics are partially, ahem, "inspired" by "Rip It Up", but to hell with it. If you're not feeling it you're hopeless for 70s rock'n'roll. Don't be deceived by the slow intro.
He had been first heard here with a stylistically similar cover of "Blue Suede Shoes" that was also retrospectively included in Fiebre de Vivir, where his guitar pedals are heard in all their glory. Here we have him appearing in "Aplauso", a late 70s music show from Spanish TV. Those fluent in Spanish will dig the announcer commenting in how rock'n'roll is not dead but very much alive and in Spanish... while the soundtrack plays the typical string-laden MOR pablum of the era.
During the 80s Moris continues to record in Spain, but although he makes a deliberate effort to modernize his sound (as we can hear in the clip below), the rise of the new generation of New Wave influenced artists obscured his contributions. In a relatively small span, his sound was not anymore the hot thing; his ballads were too personal and his rock songs were too raw. So, faced with diminishing success and marginal support from his record label, he decides to pack up and return to his home country.
Back in Argentina, Moris keeps recording infrequently. His latest project of note is Familia Canción (2011), a collaborative album with his son, the successful singer and songwriter Antonio Birabent. Here we have them in a "live in the studio" special from Argentinian TV.
My verdict: Now this artist is more up my alley, although he might not be one I'd really go out of my way to dig deeper into. Sometimes one gets the impression that his doubly patriarchal figure overshadows his actual accomplishments, but there are jewels hidden throughout his output if one cares to find them. So, a general kudos for his career, and thanks for the adrenaline injection in the country. Rock on, Mauricio.
Style: Mainstream pop. He's in the list because... Rolling Stone magazine put his album "Bandido" at #20, which in my opinion is overrating it a bit.
The most salient characteristic of Miguel Bosé is that while his records might not be revolutionary, his persona is downright fascinating. Here we have the son of a bullfighter who had affairs with Ava Gardner, Lana Turner and Rita Hayworth and an Italian actress and former Miss Italy, who had Luchino Visconti as godfather, who grew up around Ernest Hemingway and Pablo Picasso (who were friends of his father) and who had Andy Warhol do one of his album covers.
Musically Bosé started doing typical late-70s teen pop, later drifting to a more adult pop with Italianizing tendencies, to later become some sort of mainstreamized mixture of David Bowie and Peter Gabriel (in his good days).
Here we can see Miguel in his earliest days, when his output was more or less divided between incredibly sappy ballads and poppy uptempo numbers. The first one, sung in English is pure Europop - somebody was listening to Abba, I think. The second one was a massive hit, or at least so it seemed to me in my elementary school days.
Then, after several albums in this vein, and having reasonable success in Latin America and, especially, Italy, Miguel reinvents himself as a modern pop artist. He learns to sing in a deeper voice, grows a stubble, commisions Andy Warhol to paint him for a cover obviously inspired by Alladin Sane (thus jump-starting the Bowie comparisons, which probably was the intended outcome), and gets a former Premiata Forneria Marconi keyboardist to handle the production duties. With all these ingredients, he releases Bandido which gives the impression of Miguel Bosé getting serious on us:
So, if previously, the vapid teen idol had been a frequent presence in the media, the now young man who uses his adult and more controlled voice to sing carefully labored, sometimes cryptic, lyrics while surrounded by an aura of ambiguous sexuality is now everywhere. While the Italians are underwhelmed (even if the album was released there in their language), the Spaniards embrace this new version of Bosé, who follows with a couple of albums in the same vein. Salamandra and XXX are new exercises in sophisticated glossy modern adult pop, and this time, instead of focusing in the Italian market, the international version is recorded in English, with XXX even being a (failed) attempt to assault the American market. Meanwhile he maintains a parallel career as a movie actor (which had already started in his teen years). A song each from the mentioned two albums. For Salamandra I could have chosen any song, since I have memories of most of them, which means that either the album was played everywhere or that it was spewing singles all around (probably both). "Duende", the XXX selection, is probably the Bosé song I prefer over the rest of his output.
Since this trio of albums, his career has been steady but without many surprises, although as pertains to these kind of restless souls, he has had a couple of curious experiments worth mentioning; his 2004 and 2005 albums, Por vos muero and Velvetina are, respectively, an orchestrated album of imaginary movie songs and an electronica and trip-hop influenced affair. The weird thing here is that apparently the initial concept was to release both as a double album. After this his more successful venture has been the obligatory duets album, Papito, which of course became his best selling album ever. So it would be wise to stop the exploration with the aforementioned two albums. Warning: the video for "Down with love" from Velvetina is very probably not suitable for work.
My verdict: Miguel Bosé is not quite my cup of tea, although I don't mind him when he comes on the radio. To begin with, I think he is one of those artists more interesting in theory than in practice. Still, a nice enough beginning for this series. We'll have time both for raving and for disparaging later...
Not long ago, the Centre for Sociological Research (a Spanish government agency) published a study called "Autonomy, Submission or Sound Hybridization? The Construction of the Aesthetic Canon of Spanish Pop/Rock", by Fernán del Val, Javier Noya and C. Martín Pérez-Colman, which claims to be based in Pierre Bourdieu's theories of sociology of art, and with the goal of determining what is the current aesthetic canon of Spanish pop/rock music. Their stated objective was to find out to what extent the Spanish canon is influenced by the international one, if the Spanish prefer artists that are unmistakably "Spanish" or the ones who follow the trail of the Anglosphere, and so on.
I won't comment on that objective, or their conclusions. But the thing that has been rather controversial has been that to construct their "canon", they have been based on a meta-list compiled from magazine-published lists. More precisely, four such lists. From 2004-2009, taken from the magazines "Efe eme", "Rock de Lux" and "Rolling Stone (Spanish edition)". Of course, this means that with so few data points the list reflects the preferences of these particular magazines. By limiting themselves to 50 artists - and to 50 entries for each one considered, just because that's the length of the shortest list, when we know that in lists of 100 or 200 entries the middle and lower ranks are usually among the most interesting - the artifacts are even more apparent. Artists of tremendous success like Mecano, Barón Rojo, Amaral or Siniestro Total don't appear anywhere on the list, while a band like Solera - which, their quality notwithstanding, were an one-album band usually considered a transitional stage towards Cánovas, Rodrigo, Adolfo y Guzmán - is included on the strength of just a high rank in one of the lists - by a magazine heavily biased towards the "undersung" heroes of the 60s and 70s.
And later they also comment that entire genres have fallen out of the canon due to being quite in a world of their own, with dedicated audiences and snubbed by the critics. But how could they not, when the magazines that focus in those genres have been systematically excluded? Or when for the lists they use they have cut off the list before the point where these artists appear? The article mentions specifically rumba, heavy rock and punk. Other genres like hip-hop apparently don't even exist. In any case I don't understand why a publication like Ruta 66 is dismissed because they focus on "classic garage rock" and Rock de Lux is considered part of the wide ranging critics when the compilers mention their "strict criteria which occasionally lead it to be labelled snobbish or elitist" and that they "focus on alternative bands".
Maybe it's just laziness and they simply picked the magazines that attempted to make big, comprehensive (but biased) lists. Far be it from me to cast the first stone, as I personally have used Efe Eme's list as my personal guide in the past, but the difference is that I'm not trying to make a scientific study.
In any way, this list does reflect a big part of which artists are or have been important, although some of the omissions are so glaring that one is tempted to declare it invalid. Still, as a first guideline for people from outside of the Spanish sphere it might suffice. But as I mentioned elsewhere, I won't consider it the final word, just a beginning, and I'm very interested in covering some of the most undeserved (in my opinion) exclusions.
