Last Tour in Málaga: Farewells Aren't Bitter When Sung by Joaquín Sabina

The title of Sabina's final tour, 'Hola y Adiós' (Hello and Goodbye), already hinted that the rogue spirit and irony are ageless and irreversible. ... Not even in this final chapter which yesterday brought Joaquín back to Málaga for an encore concert, because tomorrow he will perform again to bid farewell to twice his audience, though not to all those who would have liked to attend. If he had done three, four, or ten more shows, he would have packed the house just the same. Though it would have been an endless tour, all things considered. In last night's farewell, nostalgia barely peeked through in the verse from Calle Melancolía. So instead of wandering the rooftops like a cat without an owner, Martín Carpena was a kitchen party enjoying that unique and irreplaceable chef with a bowler hat and a raspy voice, a singer-songwriter of essential recipes from our soundtrack, who neither missteps nor harsh criticisms have pulled from the stoves until he decided. At his forty and ten and twenty-six. No, farewells are not bitter when Joaquín Sabina sings them.

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"Good evening Málaga," were his first words after starting by shedding some 'Marble Tears' and then denying everything—including his legend—in that almost testamentary song 'Denying It All' as he warmed up the atmosphere in this first concert in the Peninsula, as he himself recalled, after taking his music elsewhere, to the Americas and the Canaries at the start of his tour. And now back home, he began his farewell in Málaga this Friday. I don't know if it was intentional or just coincidence, but the detail certainly had its poetic justice, as he repeated once more last night, here he lived "one of the best times of my life," also by the sea, but on the other side of the city, in the legendary Zambra of Pedregalejo, "branch of La Mandrágora".

He sang 'Calle Melancolía', which he wrote and premiered in Málaga, with a special dedication to a spectator and friend there, Vanesa Martín

"This is the first one and if you see us with a smile and joy it's because it's a pleasure and an honor to start the Spanish tour in Málaga," he said, sitting on his stool and making the crowd roar, reminding them that "some of my first songs were written and premiered in Málaga and I met people in Zambra who are lifelong friends of mine, like Antonio Banderas and María Barranco." One of those lyrics he scribbled and sang for the first time was 'Calle Melancolía' which was not missed and he sang in communion with the audience with a special dedication to another friend from the land, but more recent, Vanesa Martín, seated in the arena and also enjoying the master.

One for each cheek

Last night it was clear that Joaquín Sabina has lived to sing it and to tell it because he never stops talking at concerts. With that self-irony that he shares so well with those who can't stop humming his lyrics. And with that band led by the equally legendary Antonio García de Diego, his squire Mara Barros, and the rest of the musicians. Yes, the voice is not what it used to be, but in charisma and lyrics, no show matches the party of Joaquinito.

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The man from Jaén also had the unwavering support of a continuous choir of 7,500 voices in the auditorium. Spectacular that 'Y sin embargo' which could have been played by the band alone with the spectators or that more lady of all the whores, the most whore of all the ladies which sounded thunderous ('A Song for Magdalena'). And so, everyone delighted, like city fish, we bit the hook, visited there 'Where Oblivion Dwells' and remembered that, no matter how much we have to walk 'Through the Boulevard of Broken Dreams', the only fraternity not worth joining is that of the Holy Reproach.

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We will certainly not forget this concert for '19 Days and 500 Nights' after last night, past the calendar, they once again stole the month of April from us on May 9th. Told like this it was like the 'Wedding Nights', because it was 10, 11, and almost 12. One success after another, one anthem after another, which led to an endless ovation for a Sabina who struggled to contain his emotion and asked those present that enough with the applause already.

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At this point I will not deny everything and confess that Joaquín's is the frustrated interview of my life. As an intern at SUR, I showed up at the Málaga Palacio and asked them to notify him for an interview. From the receptionist's face, I knew that the journalistic assault had failed. In the strategy, I lacked a convincing kitchen skewer in the throat, like his sung heist with those gentlemen. As a disclaimer, I will only say that I was young, inexperienced, and with enough insolence not to care if they sent me to hell. As it was. Although I have to say that I did not leave without an interview. In an unexpected turn, I saw Caco Senante sitting at the hotel bar, I repeated the challenge and left with a chat with mojo picón.

Thirty years later, last night I met Sabina again in this (pen)ultimate Malaga assault that ended with a couple of collective kisses, one for each cheek. Life's paradoxes, I also did the honors to Serrat in Málaga in his last function. And look where I've ended up saying goodbye to both birds with one stone. Yes, Sabina left us last night light of luggage and, in the encores, barking like the dogs of 'Princess', but also loaded with songs for a lifetime and with antibodies for nostalgia. Thank you, master.