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hurrengoa
Dotore    One of the most unusual discs of the summer has been the summer star. Dotore's Los veranos y los dias (Cosas Primo) sounds like they've gone on holiday with the Brian Wilson Family and this is what they sing every afternoon. Or at least, that's what springs to mind when we listen to the songs “Nadie llora en Nanjing”, “La mañana” and “Septiembre”. In every sense, Dotore have brought out an elegant disc.

Los veranos y los días is happy and melancholy disc at the same time. Terrace bars, the dawn wearing short sleeves ... We suppose that you wrote this in Barcelona, they city you live in, but would it be too much to say that there's a lot of Donostia summer in it too? The summers here have a lot of spring and autumn scent in them. Well, I'm getting lost. Why Los veranos y los días?

I've written this disc in the last three years, living in Shanghai, Barcelona, Donostia and many countries in Africa, but yes, you're right, there is a bit of Donostia summer to it. Since I finished my first disc, I've wanted to dedicate a disc to summer and, wherever I've been, summer brings Donostia back to me (with good weather!) The title. In the summer of 2008, in Donostia, I read Marcel Proust's Les Plaisirs et les Jours and I took it from the book. I wanted to reflect the sensation the book had given me on the disc.


What was the process for making the disc? How do you write? Are you sure about everything before you record, or do you leave some space for creation and ideas while you are recording?

In fact, I don't leave too much space for ideas that come up in the studio. I try to play as well as possible and to get the best possible sound. When I go into the studio, I'm very sure about what I want and all the arrangements have normally been well thought through. As far the the process is concerned, I write with the guitar and, at the same time, I come up with the vocal lines, the cello, the trumpet and sounds like that. When it's fairly well advanced, I write the lyrics depending on the sensation the music gives me. On this disc there's one big innovation: Iñaki Irisarri (Café Teatro, from Donostia, played the drums and Håvard Enstad, from Norway, played the piano and the cello. I used to meet up with them individually, we'd write different bits, and later the three of us would get together to rehearse. It's a real luxury to make music like that, it helped me to take the songs up to another level.

As far as the lyrics are concerned, when you listen to them the first time they sound simple, but, on further listening, you realise they're evocative. There aren't any surplus lyrics, everything seems to have its own place, and we imagine that takes more work than you might think ... Is that right, or have we just been thinking too much?

No, no, that's quite right. The lyrics seem simple, but I take them very seriously and I spend a lot of time writing them, choosing the words, the sounds ... I very seldom write a whole lyric in one go, I normally go back to what I've written time and again, and I make them short on purpose. As I think everything's in the sentence I've written, an extra verse would lose that meaning.

Disc. Object. What do you think of Primo's work? To what extent is the disc's concept and design important for the music?

For me, the disc's design and concept are fundamental. It's incredible how important design can be in the way songs are perceived, and the other way around too. I couldn't bring out discs whose sleeves don't reflect the songs. Primo's work is marvelous in this sense, not only in terms of design and concept, but because he's also managed to adapt to what I've wanted to say with the music. In fact, I'm really happy with the disc's artwork.