April 20, 90. Hello, flat, how are you? Are you surprised that I write to you? So long is normal. If thirty years ago, the Celts Cortos remembered the magnificent night in the Turmo cabin, this April 20 they yearn for even more laughter with friends from confinement in their homes. On the anniversary of the greatest of their successes, the song ‘April 20, 90’, and with the most latent melancholy than ever, the group born in Valladolid has done everything possible to avoid feeling alone this time.
Music did not tire them then and neither does it now. “It’s the fuel,” explains the guitar and voice of the group, Jesús Cifuentes, who looks back two months ago and longs for road trips and getting on stage. “Those of us who are intoxicated by music and dedicate ourselves to this without it cannot continue”. With a bit of reality and another of fiction, the memories of a young man who had emigrated to work fell on what is now a success in Spanish music. “I found good friends, but I was still somehow offshored from all my usual crew.” The night came to mind in the cabin with his friends, in the Huesca Pyrenees, and the rest is history.
From the most intimate creativity as a product of the artist’s feeling of longing, the song “flew by itself, free” and its owners became all those who listened to it. Even more in this April 20 framed in the Covid-19 crisis, when Celtas Cortos is going to relaunch the theme with the collaboration of a wide group of artists and of essential workers who these days face the pandemic. The proceeds will go to the organization Médicos Sin Fronteras.
From the private studios of their houses, the members of the group have re-recorded their greatest hit along with artists of the stature of Mikel Izal, Rozalén, Amaral, Carlos Tarque, Ska-P, Sidonie, La Pegatina, Repeat Offenders or Misleading, among others. In addition to these familiar faces, others will appear: those of hospital workers, the Red Cross, police officers, farmers and ranchers, supermarket and tobacconist employees, in short, to “give visibility to those on the front line”.
“What we have considered doing is rowing all in the same direction to help each other and make the brotherhood of the planet bigger,” confesses Cifuentes, who defends culture as “an open window to confinement.” «Even if it’s from the confinement, a book or a song opens your mind and transports you, makes you travel and lets you breathe. Without culture we do not work, culture is the breath of humanity ».
More necessary than ever, the cultural sector is experiencing a deep crisis with an uncertain future that affects the first to the last of its links. “We were left lying in a gutter,” regrets Cifuentes, explaining that much of the union is left without its main source of income due to confinement. “Also, we will be the last in line to return to the beach bar, if we are able to open it.”