TRONCO: "Nainonai" New album

We need more groups like TRONCO. Fresh, personal, spontaneous, sincere, with a well-tuned sense of humor, who build a sense of the everyday out of the most incomprehensible fantasy, in a way that feels natural. They do things their way. And with their eloquence, their ingenuity, and their simplicity, they convince you they are right. Now, after “Tralará” we have “Nainonai”. Their sound made sublime, if we can say that about Fermí and Conxita, thanks in large part to the participation of Eloy Bernal (NELEONARD, DIE KATAPULT). This combination is the cocktail that makes “Nainonai” an authentic gem, the “Popemas” of this generation. It is a pop delicacy made with attitude, fantasy and imagination; an authentic work of art, the kind that just happens, without planning and without pretentions.

We are going to do a full-on unboxing here. Because the occasion requires nothing less. Off goes the plastic wrap. This beautiful vinyl, with evocative cover art by Andrea Ganuza (based on the Scorsese movie “The Age Of Innocence”, one of Conxita’s favorite movies) is the gateway to the marvelous 12-page liner notes!  With illustrations by Lucas Naranjo, and water color paintings by Conxita herself, based on the children’s book “Frog And Toad Together” by Arnold Lobel, the journey through the album’s lyrics begins. To enjoy them as if they were a children’s story (for all ages). And, like the good illustrator that she is, Conxita personally chose to work with Andrea and Lucas, two of her favorite artists. And another and – the personalized fonts are the work of Fermí and Conxita’s grandmothers, Conchita Moraleda and Josefina Cotes.

The album sleeve design is by Conxita herself, inspired by an audiobook of The Little Prince. We pull the vinyl out of the jacket. The album labels are Andrea’s choice, from a series of her own work where she paints her dreams, and which she thought would break up the album’s tone a bit. Let’s put the needle in the groove. The needle and the damage done. We hear “Volveré”. Simple and straightforward. Laura Antolín (DOBLE PLETINA) on bass. A guitar starts playing through a cell phone signal, the marked abanico style so typical of Fermí, rumba-esque, we hear a train, a rooster… And the magic begins. There is no turning back. We had already heard “La Casa De Tus Sueños” as an advance. Elisa and Eloy acting as a counterpoint to Conxitaand Fermí, to tell us a Mediterranean dream, bathed in breeze and waves. The third song that plays is “Piropos”. TRONCO at their purest. Ragatanga on the guitar, impossible harmonies, and Conxita with her personal flow, letting loose a string of terms to use to talk about someone you care about without having to use adjectives that make you blush. THE MOLDY PEACHES. “Tiene que ser ingenioso / Tiene que ser novedoso / Y no el típico piropo” (It has to be clever / It has to be new / And not the typical compliment). I can just imagine Conxita in a kind of spoken word battle in fields full of strawberries and flowers. “Dejarlas Ir” marks differences. The synthesizers, the drum kit, the absence of the guitar, all make for a radically different sound palette. FUTURE BIBLE HEROES. But the drum kit keeps going on “Menos Contigo”, even though here the tropical sounds and marimbas make us feel closer to the TRONCO universe. A journey to the middle of the Pacific. “Donde está mi cerebro cuando más lo necesito” (Where is my brain when I need it most). “Un Documento”. Bare. A sketch. But everything is there. A crazy, unbelievable, fantastic story. That side of the record ends with “Soy Una Roca” - an incredible version of SIMON & GARFUNKEL, close to a chachacha, with drums played and recorded by Ryan McPhun (THE RUBY SUNS) and an absolutely magical adaptation from Conxita. The needle stops because there are no grooves left.

Turn the album over. Andrea’s drawings are so pretty. “Rumba Veraniega Para Tiempos Oscuros”. What a wonderful title. The song’s lyrics are the musicalization and adaptation of a text from their friend, Dídac Rocho. TRONCO in all their glory. Those bizarre but aboslutely precious harmonies. The sea. You and me. The next one begins like Doraemon. “Famosa” seems like some kind of Catalan reggaeton with touches of mambo and ranchera. Wild thoughts about fame and money. Conxita says that Rosalía’s “Milionària” had some influence on this song. How do we do this? “Me Iré”. I have almost never heard such angst in TRONCO. I have almost never heard angst sound so warm and appealing. SINGLE. LA BIEN QUERIDA. “Las calles huelen a pizza / El césped a césped / La lluvia a mojado / Y tú a lo de siempre / Qué gusto olerte” (The streets smell like pizza / And the grass like grass / The rain smells wet / And you smell like you always do / How nice to smell you). Our lungs fill up with “Qué Gusto Verte”. And our hands. And our eyes. Wouldn’t it be nice if that bright red vinyl were a strawberry-flavored candy? Then we could also enjoy it with our mouths. How the song grows. Those arrangements. Lyricism in a world of fantasy. What more could we ask for? What a shame it has to end. “Demasiadas Veces” is out of control. That sweet sardana flute. A chachacha from the 20s. But the 20s from last century. And I guess from this one too. And, like any good chachacha, it makes this story of spite and angst sound comforting and even fun. The last one. “Con Las Manos En La Masa”. Rumba. VAINICA DOBLE, of course. Pots and pans. The final celebration. The final feast.

There is a page with the chords. Major and minor. They seem simple. As if playing these songs were just a game. Of course, for them it is. But like all good games, it means so much more. Because TRONCO are so much more. They have a permanent place in our hearts. And they will come back with new things. And more new things. And we hope they will never leave.

TRACKLIST: 01 Volveré  02 La Casa De Tus Sueños  03 Piropos  04 Dejarlas Ir  05 Menos Contigo  06 Un Documento

07 I Am A Rock (Soy Una Roca)  08 Rumba Veraniega Para Tiempos Oscuros  09 Famosa  10 Me Iré  11 Qué Gusto Verte

12 Demasiadas Veces  13 Con Las Manos En La Masa