Bunbury, photographed for this profile by his partner, photographer Jose Girl, in Los Angeles in June.JOSE GIRL
Bunbury (Zaragoza, 55 years old) is nervous behind the curtain. It moves from side to side. He tries to stay still, but can hardly manage it. It doesn’t help that an electronic clock displayed on the giant screen behind the stage is ticking. “Who counts down from four minutes?” Bunbury wonders, smiling. “Four minutes is a lot of minutes,” he concludes. The musician is waiting to meet his fans at the Music Station, the concert hall of Madrid’s Príncipe Pío train station, which this afternoon is full of fans waiting for him to talk about his new album Greta Garbo (Warner). A priori, this singer, used to filling large pavilions and even stadiums, both solo and as the presenter of Héroes del Silencio, should not seem restless before a small event. However, he admits in the back room: “The nerves always come when you’re waiting to jump on stage. There isn’t a concert that doesn’t happen to me. But I’ll admit I’m more nervous before a date where I have to speak and not sing.
Bunbury concluded that he would never again feel that tingling in his stomach before going on stage. And so did his followers, a vast and solid legion multiplying on both sides of the Atlantic, after receiving the news which at first no one could believe: “Bunbury is retiring forever.” It happened in the February 2022, when the singer released a statement announcing that he was retiring from acting for good after canceling some of his concerts due to throat problems that had persisted for years. “They were very difficult days because I came to the conclusion that it could be the end of my career,” he said in an interview in Madrid more than a year after the announcement.
Bunbury, in Los Angeles, in June. JOSE GIRL
It’s a summer morning and Bunbury chats in the Warner Music offices: “I’ve had symptoms for a long time and I didn’t know what was going on. When I look back I realize that there were a lot of concerts and tours. I came to the conclusion that it might be psychological. Sitting on a sofa, he says that he suffered from the effects of a “terrible night of coughing” during the performances. “Every concert was like climbing Everest. I saw that the throat was not in good condition, but there were also respiratory problems. I felt like I had sand in my lungs. Months after the tour was canceled and after many tests, he managed to find out his illness: he was allergic to glycol, the chemical substance that creates artificial smoke on stage. The diagnosis was a “relief” and allowed him to act so much on the matter that the announcement he made three months ago was already a different one: “Bunbury is returning to the stage.” Indeed, this year is five major concerts planned in Latin America and another five between Latin America, the United States and Spain by 2024.
As the afternoon progresses, Bunbury supporters wait outside Music Station. In the changing rooms, the musician, wearing sunglasses, boots and a hat as usual, comments on some books that have been given to him. You have to go on stage in a few minutes. The meeting will be broadcast live on the website. Thousands of fans will watch it streamed from different parts of the world. His effect is not that of a singer. Bunbury is a star with transcendence in Spain, much of Europe and the entire American continent, including the United States. So much so, that the week before that Madrid appointment, he was signing records in Los Angeles at Amoeba Music, the big music store, a temple that’s already part of North American pop culture. For that reason, his departure from the scenarios came as shock news. And now his return is also accompanied by the album Greta Garbo, where there is an “inside look” at the situation he had to live in when he thought he would never sing live again. “I wrote songs as a lifeline. They were the place I felt safe while the house of cards collapsed. Songs are something I feel like I have control over.
The house of cards didn’t fall, but it came close. Bunbury recalls the days when he locked himself in his home studio, trying to focus on composition to feel like he had “a sanctuary”. “In my day-to-day life, I went from euphoria to depression from one minute to the next and thought I might lose contact with the public for good,” he says. Songs like “De vuelta a casa” and others like “Desaparecer” emerged, which could well refer directly to the title of the album itself, a homage to the actress Greta Garbo, who died after the commercial failure of the film “Die Frau mit den Two Faces” in 1941. He decided to retire from the world of cinema and retired to his Los Angeles mansion. “I’ve always been fascinated by people like this who have decided to isolate themselves and leave the public world. The record could also have been called Howard Hughes. I also think about how fascinating David Bowie’s last ten years have been when he had his Greta Garbo moment.
The musician performs at the Palacio de los Deportes in Mexico City, during his latest tour in 2022. Jose Girl
Old Hollywood, musical fame, great stories… Everything was saved in Los Angeles, the city of dreams and show business tragedies. Aside from his fans, not much has been revealed that Bunbury lives in Los Angeles, more specifically in Topanga, a town between Malibu and Santa Monica. “I like being there because I get the anonymity I need. It is a nature park that prohibits new construction. It’s possibly the most spectacular natural setting in town.” It’s the same area that, without being well known, has made a name for itself in recent years as the production and recording studio of musician Jonathan Wilson and a place of pilgrimage for artists like Big Thief, Father John Misty, Angel Olsen, Fleet Foxes or Dawes, among other contemporary American music talents. “It’s a bit like Laurel Canyon,” Bunbury admits. He fled there when the house of cards seemed to collapse. Back then, he was more focused than ever on sticking to a routine: getting up early and meditating as soon as he got up, then exercising, then composing and working. He ate at 10:30 a.m. and had dinner at 6:00 p.m. “Being disciplined has allowed me to be infinitely more creative.” The facts are in: In recent years he has published “Intensive Levitation Course” (2020), “Possible” (2020), “Expectations” (2017) and at the same time alternative works such as Canciones 1987-2017 (2018), the direct California Live!!! (2019) or Files Vol.1: Tributes and BSO (2016). Greta Garbo was the fruit of this discipline when her spirit was weaker. “Sometimes things happen and sometimes they don’t, but I strive every day to make them a reality,” he says.
Aside from his commercial success on both records and concerts, Bunbury, 55, is considered a role model by fellow musicians on both sides of the Atlantic. In Spain, artists such as Leiva, Nacho Vegas and Vetusta Morla praise him for having managed to develop such a successful solo career in Latin America and especially in Mexico, where he is a star at the highest level and could even be said that he has a larger audience than in Spain. It wasn’t easy because after the end of Héroes del Silencio things might not have gone well for him and more than 25 years later and 14 studio albums his status is enormous as he stayed true to his style. He is one of the Spanish artists with the most international impact, joining Julio Iglesias, Rosalía, Enrique Iglesias, Alejandro Sanz, Joan Manuel Serrat and Joaquín Sabina among several other names in the top flight.
Bunbury pictured with Nacho Vegas in 2006. Jose Girl
Bunbury’s journey to this summit began in Zaragoza when a boy named Enrique received a gift from his uncle in the 1970s. “It was he who got me into music. He’s ten years older than me. When I was eight he recorded the entire Beatles discography for me and my brothers. I don’t know why it occurred to him that a child of eight might be interested. One of my brothers and I were overwhelmed. Because of these cassettes alone, we wanted to start taking guitar lessons and later start a group.”
Enrique went through different bands until he founded Héroes del Silencio in 1984. I was 17 years old. “Heroes del Silencio were born at a time when we were hearing the whole after-punk movement. People like The Cure, The Cult, Echo & the Bunnymen or Killing Joke. We wanted to make sure there was a band in Spain that had that character. We were also influenced by other Spanish women like Paralisis Permanente or Gabinete Caligari who embraced this scary thing.” Their success grew until they blew it all up with 1990’s Senderos de treason, although music critics didn’t take it positively. “I’m very grateful that I worked harder to win the love of music critics with Héroes del Silencio. I’ve seen other colleagues have had the criticism’s favor and I never knew what it depended on. “Maybe from the box of shrimp we shipped,” he blurts out jokingly. “We really enjoyed reading New Musical Express. Echo and the Bunnymen were famous loudmouths. The Suede said to the four winds that they were the best band. Then there was The Smiths, Oasis, Blur… With Héroes we thought that was the case, that the tension with the press helped everyone, that it made the interviews interesting to read. Over time, I realized things were different. I started to think that there was a communication between the artist and the public and I didn’t want the press to treat it that way.”
A picture of Heroes del Silencio from 1993 as the group rampaged from Germany to Mexico. Left to right: Juan Valdivia, Enrique Bunbury, Joaquin Cardiel and Pedro Andreu. Paco Rubio
Bunbury has become more self-possessed in interviews and likes to communicate a lot with the press via email. However, he admits that the musicians he most admired had that kind of “coolness.” “I think this pedestal is positive for creating good works. You have to have an absolute belief in what you’re doing to try to do more than a mediocre job. Then you either get it or you don’t. But you have to have an unusual belief. Pedro Almodóvar, for example, believed he could make extraordinarily diverse films. In his head he had to think about it. Because in the end, you do what you put your mind to it.” And does Bunbury stand on that pedestal? “Now I often wonder what I’m doing when I go on stage and why I’m in the spotlight. Sometimes I say, “Don’t aim at me!” he yells, laughing. “I get the shyness I had as a kid.”
Still, Bunbury exudes the vibe of an old-fashioned rock star. Music and aesthetics are closely related to his idols from the sixties and seventies and also the ability to keep a certain secret. “It never crosses my mind to post what I eat for breakfast on my Instagram,” he says sardonically. “I’ve never been addicted to social media. I prefer to keep my distance. For me, the most important point of this question is that social networks take time. As you scroll, you can read, look at the sky, or do something else interesting. You have to be careful on the internet. Most people dive in to see what the internet has to offer. In my opinion it has to be off and you only turn it on when you are interested in something. The point of view arises from an earlier interest. Social networks don’t give me that. The Internet is more interesting if you want to study the Stoics and get to it. That’s better than looking up what’s happening on social networks today.” And add another problem: aggressiveness in communication. For example Twitter, “or all against all”. “It seems to me that it’s not the real world and that people don’t express themselves as they do in the real world. Everyone is ready to come in and stone you!”
Bunbury, photographed for this profile by his partner, photographer Jose Girl, in Los Angeles in June. JOSE GIRL
He knows what he’s talking about: In 2020, in the middle of the pandemic, a controversy erupted when he shared a picture of the mobilizations against Bill Gates because, according to the organizers, the tycoon could speculate on the vaccine. Shortly thereafter, in an interview, he spoke out in favor of medical freedom when making vaccination decisions. “The unhappiness we are witnessing is that phones have made us censors, judges of the behavior of others. We have become the police of correctness. Everyone has to think about it. My reasoning is that I want to judge people less. I decided not to be a police officer or a judge,” he explains. “I believe in freedom and I like it when people express themselves. Citizens may have different opinions based on our living conditions. Empathy begins with understanding that another may have different reasons, different conclusions, and a different perspective on life. I think that my enemy is neither left nor right. My enemy is not the people. The ones who scare me the most are the ones in power. We should be able to judge better and look a little more critically. Not with people. Citizens have more or less the same concerns. The same is not true for the rulers. I look at the supranational elites who are in different circumstances than at the people.”
His latest album is entitled “Greta Garbo”. “I’m fascinated by stars who leave the public world,” says the musician. JOSE GIRL
Bunbury’s view of today’s world has always been reflected in his work and his voice: “I am very fortunate to have belonged to a generation that lived a life without the internet or cell phones. I see the contribution of technologies, some interesting and others less so. I’m not a caveman, but I see things that are missing. I think of the new generations that have already grown up with all this technology available and haven’t had the chance to experience what it was like to wait for a book or a record to arrive. That too was valuable.” And he continues: “Life is what happens when we’re not on the phone. You are on the subway, in the bus, in a taxi or at the gate of the plane and you stop thinking because you are on your phone. In these times the concept of thinking disappears. Over the years, we will see technology’s casualties. The problem with a cell phone release clinic is that it can be of little use because it’s difficult to get back into society when society as a whole is on the hook. When you join Alcoholics Anonymous, you try to live a life surrounded by people who don’t have those habits.
The meeting with the fans is over. There’s a good handful of followers on the street waiting to snag a photo or autograph before boarding the van. He goes outside and the phones go crazy. Then he goes. No mobile phone could keep the time behind the scenes as the electronic clock counted down on the big screen. It was like announcing the end of the world or the beginning of a new century. That doesn’t matter. He was thoughtful and quiet because there was something that just seemed to be on his mind. “Who does such a long countdown?” he repeated. In the dim light, it seemed like every second of that counter everyone watched was a reminder that Bunbury must always be Bunbury.
Subscribe to continue reading
Read without limits