Toti Soler: "I don't want to be a classic, a flamenco, a jazzman, or anything like that."

Toti Soler (Vilassar de Dalt, 1949) often falls asleep listening to his own music: the slow and subtle pieces that he and his daughter call transparenciesFifty years after the celebrated concert with Ovidi Montllor at the Olympia, Soler leads a quiet and peaceful life. Born into a family of musicians—his great-grandfather was an opera singer, his mother a pianist—he found two undeniable virtues in the guitar his aunt gave him: the direct contact of his finger against the string, and the ability to carry it on his back and take it with him wherever he went. The rest is history: more than 400 songs and 37 albums, and having been the irreplaceable accompanist for generations of artists.

One of his albums has a very wine-related name: Laia Vineyard.

— This comes from Karl Schefer, a Swiss editor, responsible for the magazine DelinadoSchefer sells organic wines from all over the world. He had a proposition: when someone bought a case of wine, he would include a piece of local art—a painter, a musician, anything. That's how he came across Vinya Laia, from Albet, and Noya, from the Penedès region. They contacted me and proposed that I create a garment.

Why did he choose the bulería for a song about a vineyard?

— It's like a bulería, but it's not a bulería, you know. It's what I've always done. I've never done flamenco: I've used flamenco rhythms—the bulería, the soleá, the seguiriya–But the harmonization is always mine. I've always played with this: using forms, but subterranean ones. I'm not a flamenco artist, nor do I want to be. In fact, I don't want to be anything: I don't want to be a classical artist, nor a flamenco artist, nor a jazzmanNor anything. Much less a rocker, a genre of music I haven't been able to stand for over half a century.

I felt that the tone of the song fit the vineyard perfectly: it has that touch of joy...

— It definitely has that happy vibe after having a few drinks. I tried to make a cheerful, fun, entertaining song, something catchy. And I think we pulled it off.

He has lived for years in the Baix Empordà, an area closely linked to wine.

— Living here means being in constant contact with the local wines. For example, Roig Parals makes an excellent wine called Camí de Cormes. Then there are wines from the Alt Empordà region that I really like, such as Vinyes Velles from Sant Climent Sescebes. Some are very good, and others are simpler but very enjoyable.

Do you have any specific preferences?

— I generally prefer red wine. Especially in winter: it's cold, we eat more meat, and red wine is more appealing. I also really like wines from the Douro region. And France also has some extraordinary wines, but they're in a different price range.

And in Portugal?

— When I used to go there often with the singer Fernando Tordo, I discovered Port wines. They're fantastic. I always try to eat and drink the local food and drink. If I go to Italy, I drink Italian wine; if I'm in Portugal, I sample Portuguese wine.

He has also spent time in Switzerland.

— Yes, I've toured Switzerland many times and even stayed for extended periods. It's not very well known, but the Swiss have some very good white wines, especially those produced in mountainous regions. They are excellent wines.

And during your stay in India, did you try anything?

— There I made the mistake of drinking the public water that some men were carrying in wheelbarrows, and I grabbed a chili pepper. I came back weighing 47 kilos. It was quite dramatic.

How did he solve it?

— I returned to Catalonia, went to see my father, who was a doctor, at the Hospital Clínic, and they gave me a couple of injections, and the problem was over.

During the seasons he spent in Andalusia, he drank a lot chamomile?

— The chamomile I really like it as an aperitif, with a small tapa. The thing is, it's a wine that goes straight to your head. If I'm not drinking it with food, I prefer not to drink too much of certain wines.

And the sherry?

— I like it, but it needs its moment.

You might be interested to know that there are some winegrowers in South Africa who play Bach music in the vineyards because they say it makes the grapes turn out better.

— It doesn't surprise me at all, because Bach's music is the most balanced and extraordinary music there is.

How did he get there?

— The first tangada I first encountered Bach at the conservatory, from which I fled. Later, in 1969, at the Spanish Guitar Centre in London, I had a very good teacher, Steven Murray. I was very young and didn't fully appreciate music. But when I was 40 or 41, I returned to Andalusia to improve my flamenco technique. And I took books, suites, everything I had by Bach. Instead of learning flamenco, I learned Bach.

Studying Bach in one farmhouse it's very nice.

— It's wonderful. And then I really began to understand it.

To what extent is what the flamingos say true? elf Is it due to the amount of alcohol at parties?

— Alcohol may have some importance, but elf You can go out without alcohol, too. I think the elf It's either there or it's not. I don't remember Lole or Manuel drunk. On the other hand, I do remember them very much. elfA person can drink a lot and elf, nothing.

And you…

— I'm not a flamenco artist. I've always known that. But I was interested in learning from the styles I've explored. When I've been drawn to jazz, I've tried to learn something; with flamenco, with Indian music… I've always tried to learn a little something from these worlds. But people were clear that I'm not flamenco. If you're flamenco, you're flamenco: you're born with it.

What projects do you have underway?

— My professional life is basically over. I've suffered a lot with my back; I had surgery a year ago. And I'm really glad I don't have to go on tour anymore, to be honest.

And at home, can he rehearse?

— Yes, I can play at home. And we have our "gatherings": sometimes we go to Santa Caterina or Tamariu… They're small get-togethers, like the ones we used to have with flamenco: parties, meetings, a meal. We play a little: one of us plays, then another. I really enjoy this. It's something very beautiful, delightful.

In the interview they did with him in Vilaweb In 2024 he was talking about a memoir.

— Sometimes I think I have too big a mouth... I've written things, but in the end, when I reread them, I think I'd be better off sticking to... it My guitar is my instrument, and I'd leave the writing to those who truly know how to write. I started writing something, but I didn't much like the feeling it had: somewhat sad and disappointed. And that's a shame, because some of the stories are truly heartwarming. But to write, you have to know how to write, and that's not my craft. I read a lot and I've learned a few things, but it's definitely not my profession. If anyone wants to get to know me, they should listen to my music, which is how I truly tell stories.

But whose title spoke, We get paid on MondayIt's a good title.

— It comes from a joke about musicians: "The three lies a manager tells after a concert." First: "Guys, this went really well." Second: "A lot of people came." And third: "We get paid on Monday." Nobody believes "we get paid on Monday," because it always takes much longer to get paid. The life of a musician is tough.