Lagunak Sessions “Catalunya Harmònica Summit”

“Without a song, the spirit will not descend,” says an old African proverb that perfectly describes the strange spell cast by the blues. Lagunak, which means “friends” in Basque, is the wordplay under which Javier Laguna has called some of the best bluesmen in Catalonia to La Casamurada, a studio in Banyeres del Penedès (Tarragona). They have been summoned with the permission of the prodigious Sweet Marta and Greg Izor, who grew up in Vermont but has been living in Madrid for a few years. They are a group of friends, the more- than -usual suspects, who can take you to a juke joint in the blink of an eye and make you feel the spell under which the spirit of the blues becomes flesh every time it is invoked.

Twelve songs just like the twelve apostles or a twelve-bar blues, inhabit Harp Record. The Lagunak sessions are where this disciplined squad, led by Izor’s enthusiastic baton and united by camaraderie and generosity, come together. Or, if you prefer, they are like the Wild Bunch in Sam Peckinpah’s legendary western. True to themselves, they embrace the codes of the old ways to pay tribute to their masters.

Make no mistake: Lagunak has the best. Little Jordi, with his sinuous, playful, and ever-present bass. It blends like mortar with Reginald Vilardell’s drumsticks. His unique and inimitable beat rocks to the cadence of the 1950s. Without a doubt, it’s a bombproof rhythm section.

Johnny Big Stone, a true songster, a tenacious guitarist, a virtuoso of effort, the measured cowboy who embraces Reverend Blind Willie Johnson and Steve Ray Vaughan alike—not to mention his talent as a singer.

Sweet Marta is a hardworking ant, a talented singer and harmonica player. She is selflessly humble and became queen by her own merits. The blues worker has a unique, deeply swampy harmonica tone that is admired on both sides of the Atlantic. She was born in Salt, a village in Girona, and ended up touring with her idols in the United States.

Oscar Rabadan, from the Rabadan dynasty, never beats around the bush and always hits the right notes. He is minimalist, precise, and accurate: less is more. In short, he is the indomitable former apprentice guitarist who taught his younger brother the rudiments of blues back in the 1990s, only to later find himself sought after by renowned musicians such as Blas Picón and Víctor Puertas.

M.A. Lonesome is a free verse poet by vocation and temperament. He is hilarious, tender, playful, and unrestrained. He is the most talkative player in the gang and the “sane-crazy” one, most like the good Murdock in The A-Team. And how he sings! Come listen if you don’t believe me.

David Sánchez is the apostle of the blues. He is the man who was abducted by four vibrating metal plates and a wooden comb nailed down with a handful of nails in 1896. He is the Padawan who pursued the great Joe Filisko until the master agreed to give him lessons, allowing him to take his harmonica to another level. He has been proselytizing about black music on the radio for years. He often rescues and extols pre-war blues with the help of the illustrious Balta Bordoy.

Victor Puertas is the prodigy possessed by the spirit of Sonny Terry—they were born on the same day! As a kid, he crossed the pond to meet his master, Gary Primich, eager to learn his best tricks. He is the other half of the highly respected Suitcase Brothers, who have made, are making, and will continue to make history in Memphis and wherever they are called upon. The pianist. The crooner in a state of grace. The composer. The guitarist. The… But, for God’s sake! Is there anything this man does wrong? Someone had to say it!

Finally, Greg Izor, the most gifted student of the great Johnny Sansone and undoubtedly his legitimate heir. A bluesman through and through with his roasted harmonica and tireless hollering, he received his sentimental and musical education in New Orleans before conquering Europe years later. There was no need to study The Art of War; with such a commander in this wild group, nothing could go wrong.

Don’t be fooled; you’ll find what you’re looking for: echoes of Johnny Sansone, the fitting legacy of Howlin’ Wolf, the bluesy soul of the immense, subtle, and underrated Buster Benton, the endless longing for Gary Primich, and six great songs in which Izor measures himself against the compositional mystique of Willie Dixon—and succeeds. In short, it’s the simple passion of records from years past, taking you on a journey from Chicago blues to the Clarksdale cotton fields.

Legend has it that, in the 1980s, 13-year-old Javier Laguna—the driving force behind this venture—spent all the money his father gave him on records during a trip to EGB. Years later, Laguna followed in the footsteps of Ñaco Goñi, collecting thousands of vinyl records on the streets of New York City and spending entire afternoons listening to them with Malcolm Scarpa and others. Now, at nearly 60 years old, Laguna gives us this little gem to enjoy and remember.

But don’t worry. There is talk that this is not the end. Something new is coming up. For now, close your eyes, turn up the volume, and join Lagunak. I assure you the spirit of the blues will descend upon you. Take it from a bluesman.

Andreu Galan i Martí