After two years of work, on Sunday you will present in Soreasun the album you have recorded. How did you choose Azpeitia to offer the first concert?

On the one hand, because the place is right; we have already made several festivals in Soreasun, with the Trikixa association. On the other hand, because Urola has two meanings for me: one is the valley of the trikitixa and the nest of my audience; and the other is that Errobi recorded a live album in Azpeitia, and I met him very small. Azpeitia had some points for recording at the festival to be held in Azpeitia.

How have you prepared the performance of Sunday?

It's been 20 years since I started my solo career, and the Tranpaldo album is the eighth I've published. That is why we have organised a party. I've completed the project with ten musicians; I'm going to work with the trikitixa, but they'll also play the trumpet, the saxophone, the thrombone, the voices, the organ, the bass and the battery. It will be a very powerful action. If there is a special guest on the album, there will also be a special guest in Azpeitia.

You will be on stage ten people. Did you work with so many friends?

And he pulls and shoots on the record. I formed two bands, one with the Carlists and the other with the Liberals, and in a couple of concerts we were all together. So we got together a lot of people. I would say that the one now is much more different in terms of style. The sound is more current and the fusion or feast of trikitixa and rock is much more evident. I believe that what we have created is a very widespread format today.

Why Tranpaldo?

We have named the album Tranpaldo, as it means Tranpando stage. Because it's a live job, we wanted to make a nod to the stage. In addition, this world is full of traps and since everything is a trap, we have also wanted to bring the trap to the record. In any case, being direct, work has few traps.

What have you collected on the album?

Above all, we have committed ourselves to the arrangements. The work is a reflection of popular music, which seems to focus on frivolities. In Latin music, for example, many times they say frivolities, they do letters against women, and they're becoming more and more widespread. We, as the name of popular music, decided to organize a popular, festive music, with worthy letters. I've made a selection of songs from my 20-year track record: Some of the times of Tapia and Leturia and others of the individual route. However, the biggest bet has been to make arrangements for metal instruments and voices.

How has the creation process been?

We've been on it for a couple of years. We did the test last year in Victoria Eugenia (Donostia), and we were left with very good sensations. We've worked in two directions: we've written arrangements for metals, and we've made them by recording adaptations for voices and musicians. In these two years, we've been testing, combing and cutting. The album, for its part, was recorded in October with songs from the two performances we made in Usurbil.

Trikitixa is inserted into your DNA. In any case, in these twenty years you have combined different musical styles. How would you describe your trajectory as far as music is concerned?

I was more attached to the trikitixa at the time of Tapia and Leturia, especially in the Romerías. So we made music to dance. Then we created Tapia and Leturia Band, and that was a rocker proposition. At that time we were going a lot with Negu Gorriak and groups of this kind, and his influence was evident. Then, as I started my solo career, I focused on the musician and the style that was more closely linked to literature or text; I chose the instrumentation according to what the style required. For example, the album Tximela kapitainaren izarrak, written by the captain of the Basque army Luis Rezola when he was in the Dueso prison, and I gave those songs a simple instrumentation, such as guitar and cello. When I pulled out the songs of the Carlist wars, I tried to organize the band. So, I made a selection of music and arrangements related to the text. Today we are more musicians than trikitilaris.

You'll be at the Durango Fair these days. What is that square for you?

Durango has become for us almost the only place of sale. In fact, many of the music stores have been closed and no disc is sold. Durango is therefore one of the few occasions when money can be recovered. In addition, in Durango we gather every year a Basque world, a great group of artists, and for us it is an important quote.

You've been in the music world for 20 years. What is the landscape of Basque music today?

I see it very productive, both in style and in quantity and quality. Young generations come with a lot of strength. It is a pity that there is less and less room for Basque music. Supply is much greater than demand and we live in great precariousness: on the one hand, because music is consumed but not sold; and on the other, because the Basque world consumes Basque music as much as the rest of the world. We therefore have less and less room for ourselves.

Has the situation changed a great deal since it began?

Great. I'm not the present, and I've known trikitixa at a time when it only worked in very rural places, but also in large plazas and infrastructure. As for consumption, we were the first to publish a album in the world of trikitixa, and at that time it was sold a lot. Then we also appeared on television; now no, they do not want us [laughing]. We have succeeded in getting television to record the concert this Sunday, but it is almost the only option. So, everything has gone down a lot in the world of Basque music, but the spending is much higher. The demand for Basque music is very small and the supply is quite cheap. And it's our fault, because people have gotten used to Basque music becoming a Debalde. But then people pay a hundred euros to see which team I don't know... On the contrary, there are problems in paying ten or fifteen euros for our own.