hurrengoa
Albert Pla, convincing albeit not convinced robero herreros   I  alberto polo from LDNMtik The first impression you get when seeing Albert Pla in concert after his three year break from live shows, is that he hasn't changed in the slightest. His new songs, the vast majority in Spanish, deal with severe head wrecks, the difference between good and evil, girlfriends with a thousand eyes or beating hearts that wander off down streets just looking to get away from it all. These songs would be at home on any one of his five records. They're that good. This time round there are no surprises. If there are, he's keeping them up his sleeve for “Anem al llit” (Vamos a la cama), his album of lullabies in Catalonian due for release on the 23rd of April. It doesn't really matter if he ploughs new fields or not: Pla is so far ahead of other singer-songwriters that he can happily rip himself off for a long while yet. Define it? Not an easy job. It'd probably be easier just to give you a few clues. Pla is back and is still allergic to giving opinions. He's still making up and interpreting new characters (others just live off his). He's still being applauded for telling us our faults to our faces. He has hardly let up since his debut “Ho sento molt” (1989). He's carved out his little niche and he's managed to make it bigger. Them's big words when you consider just what it is he does: blunt, skeptical poetry. One of his favourite one-liners that he rolls out during his live performances gives us an indication of where he's coming from: "let's not fool ourselves, the moon don't shine". Maybe he has it on his doormat.

I read somewhere that your new record would be in spanish and that the title would be "Corazones".
Yeah, well, that's not actually quite the truth. "Corazones" is a song I play live, and it's not even called that. I mean, I haven't even thought about recording these new songs that I sing in Spanish. I'm gonna do this lullaby thing. It's a record for kids. A bedtime record.

Where did you get the idea from?
I had the odd song and... the whole idea came from me doing something by myself. An album without musicians, no producer, no instruments. No nothing.

One picks up a certain connection or bond between you and Sisa and Javier Krahe from your interviews. Does such an affinity exist?
Well, I do admire them both a lot.

What's the most important thing you've learnt from them?
Javier has really showed me how to get the most out of music. Let's face it, I do the same type of work as he does.

When you say "get the most out of music", do you mean you get to do what you like and make a living out of it at the same time?
Well, I don't know if that's what he's all about, but he's a reference point for me (laughs) and I'm all ears. The way he works, the way Javier Ruibal works. I feel as if I belong to the same circle. They can talk to me about Alejandro Sanz and I can like him or not, but he does stuff I know nothing about. There's a certain parallel alright, but Javier works in the same little world as me, we both walk at the same speed...

Jabier Muguruza says something similar...
Jabier Muguruza is in the same trade as me.

He talks about people who have the same outlook on life as he does. He mentions Bernardo Atxaga, Ruper Ordorika...
Ruper, Javier Rubial... there's a load of heads going in that same direction.

All the same, he seems to underline this aesthetic connection. Do you feel this same kind of link to Krahe and Sisa...?
Well, link, it's just that we do the same kind of work. I'd just like to get to their age and do the things they're doing, don't you think?

This being pissed off with people who laugh at your gigs seems to be a common occurrence.
Yeah, there are a lot of people who get pissed off because others laugh at my gigs. They worry, there are people who worry. Not just the critics; among the ordinary punters too. There are people who like Tom Waits who get browned off because there are little fashion freaks who like Tom Waits too (laughs). "Do you like Manu Chao? I just don't understand him" (more laughs). Yeah, it's just no... (gesture of resignation). We're just like that. It's just... the mere fact that they say these kind of things to you.

Do these attitudes bother you?
No, I couldn't care less. I mean, what do you want me to say? It's like when they ask you for an autograph. What do you want me to do? Should you spend ten minutes trying to convince some geezer that signing an autograph is just plain stupid? Or do you just sign it without even looking at whoever it is? That's what you do. It takes less time. Or doesn't it? Why should you start spouting off opinions on autographs when it's much quicker if you just sign it? Why are you gonna say no and then give them your life story? (laughs).

What's are your plans on the cinema and theatre front?
I don't make plans when it comes to acting. I don't. Someone has to come to me with the dog's bollocks of an idea. I'm gonna do the music for Joaquin Jorda's new film, but I haven't a clue what it's gonna be called. I haven't a notion.

Do you get the same kind of fulfillment from acting as you do from music?
Each thing has it's own cycle. The lullaby record comes out now, but I recorded it last year. It's all about doing your own thing, isn't it? At the end of the day, you always do the same. No-one is stupid: they know that if Luz Casal takes two years to bring out a new record it's not because she's after dying or anything.

When you were asked a while ago about what kept you wanting to write songs, you said: "give me 300 million pesetas and I won't do it any more". Could you really give it up so easily?
I'd do it for even less. I put an ad in the la Vanguardia for a while that went: "My silence for sale". It still is. If anybody gives me 300 million pesetas, I'll give up writing songs.