Antonio Jiménez Aranda “El Sangui”
In a critical way, it is said that when someone wears too much cologne or perfume, people know this person is arriving before they reach their destination. In only the most complimentary way, this can be said of Antonio’s booming tenor voice. As I walk down Calle Santa Maria along the side of the Santa Iglesia Catedral Basílica de la Encarnación in the center of Målaga, Antonio’s voice is the first thing I notice. Bearded and wearing a black tam newsboy hat and a blue denim jacket, he is seated on a small cloth folding chair under the arch of the old hospital opposite the side of the Cathedral. His simple soft black guitar case is open with coins and bills strewn in all corners while he and his nylon-stringed classical guitar belt out traditional Spanish songs and his own composition. It’s hard to imagine that a man of such slight build, maybe 130 pounds, can project the kind of sound that comes from his lungs, through his vocal cords and out his mouth. There is no mistaking his incredible talent as both a musician and a performer. While his music has taken him around the world to clubs, theaters and the lives of the super wealthy and famous, “El Sangui” always returns to the street, where his greatest and most humble joy resides. To him, the fact that he is even alive today to continue playing his music in the street is a testament to the power of music.
My name is Antonio Jiménez Aranda. Basically, people call me El Sangui. When I was a kid, I was a little troublemaker and always came home with a little bruise or scrape. Sangui is short for sanguinario, which is like blood seeking. This is how I picked up this name. I am 44 years old. I have two children, the best, who are 19 and 17 years old. I was born in Madrid, but I was raised in Melilla. My family moved their because my father was in the military. Now, I reside in Málaga. My main instrument was hand percussion – congas and cajón flamenco, and I really played only these instruments until my 20s. Then I start to play the guitar. I have one sister who likes to sing, but there is no music in my family. None.
I never took any lessons for any instrument. I am self-taught. I was part of a band as a percussionist, and I wrote songs for the band. It was kind of Flamenco pop. When I was young, I listened to all music. I love almost all music, except reggaeton, which my children love, but my favorite music was Spanish rock and roll and reggae. As a songwriter, I really liked to understand Spanish rock songs. I liked La Frontera, Joaquín Sabina, Alejandro Sanz, Los Secretos, Fito & Fitipaldes, and Antonio Vega. And reggae I liked UB40 and Bob Marley. There are no real original Spanish reggae songs, only translated. Maybe that’s an idea for me!
When I was a percussionist, I would write songs and sell them to different bands. My family said, “Why are you selling them? You should sing them yourself.” I got a piano to start composing chords and then I got a guitar. I didn’t know any chords or their names. I would just find a chord with my fingers to match my voice to find the right sound. Then I began looking up chords to read Tab charts. Now, I know the chords that I play, but I don’t know so many chords. Today, I still have fake chords that I use for Flamenco.
I got divorced 14 years ago. I had been working as a boss at a security firm for 13 years. At that time, I was still with my band and composing songs on the side. I always found a little time for music. At this time, one day I woke up and realized I was working 6 out of 7 days a week, and I wasn’t happy. And then I completely quit. I said, “I want to make my life with music.” My family told me to first look for a job and then play music on the side, but I was afraid I was going to settle into another job and not play music. I realized that if I wanted to reach my goals, I had to be brave, so I forced myself to live off the music in order to become a musician.
I remember the first time I played on the street. I was super scared, super scared. I was perfect at home, but I was shaking on the street. It was in the town of Nerja. I would forget the lyrics and the music at first because I was so nervous, but now I am strong on the street and give a great performance. I overcame this fear because I wanted to live off music.
I have so many experiences on the street. Last year in July, I was playing in front of the Cathedral and Antonio a guy walked by, stopped and listened and gave me 50 Euros and said, “Never stop doing what you are doing.” When he walked off, I felt like this guy was familiar. And a group of women told me, “You know that is Antonio Banderas.” So, I went and said hello to him. And ten minutes later, one of the guys who was with Antonio Banderas came back and asked if I could play in his house next to El Pimpi restaurant, his restaurant. I have played for him there three times. That time and twice during Christmas for his family and Will Smith one time was there.
I was playing here in Málaga one day one year ago, and a Miami Cuban woman walked by. She was dressed very well and very classy with another lady. They gave me a nice tip and bought a CD. When I finished, the lady asked, “When are you playing again?” I told her, “I will be back here this afternoon.” In the afternoon, the lady returned and asked me if I knew Bad Bunny. I thought she was talking about Bugs Bunny – the Looney Tune! I said, “No.” It seems that her daughter was some kind of manager at the company that manages Bad Bunny. She told me, “I sent some of your videos to my daughter and maybe I can connect you.” But you know, there are tons of people who come by in the street promising they are going to do this or that for you, but it usually never works out. After one week, the lady told me that the daughter was going to call me. And she did, and she said she wanted to sign me and asked how much I ask. I said, “Well, I don’t know anything about rates.” She told me, “We will start with $1500 for two hours for any private event. And we will pay for food and hotel and flights to Miami.” I thought they were crazy with that money. They asked me, “When can you start?” I said, “I can start tomorrow!” I asked them to send me a little money first to be sure it wasn’t some trick and I get to Miami with nothing. They sent me three days of pay and it was real. But of course, it took time to get a visa, like 25 days, and then the lady came back to Málaga, and we flew to Miami together. I played a couple days in a mansion in Miami and then 85 days on a yacht, private boats.
Sometimes the boat stayed in the dock and other days it sailed. I played two hours on the boat, but most people didn’t listen. A few guests appreciated it, but I felt like part of the decorations. Sometimes people would argue about whether they wanted me to play or not. It was an experience. There were always 6 or 7 guys and 30 different beautiful women each night. I didn’t think this was such a fantasy because this is what I imagined Miami to be. There was so much money and big tips. But listen, I used to make money, but I quit money for music. I would never do this again. No. No. The richest man is not the one who has the most, but who needs the least.
But in 90 days, I had enough money to buy some land in Cártama near Málaga. I want to build my home and then slowly build bungalows there to rent to people. I still send the mother and daughter videos of my new songs, and they are very happy with them.
I don’t care where I play. I only care about the music. I can earn some money selling my songs and playing concerts or restaurants, but I always come back to the streets. The streets make the musicians humble because when you go on stage, it’s easy to get the applause of people. It’s much harder to gather the attention and praise of people who didn’t come to see you and are just walking by and for them to see my value. At the same time, many people ignore me and just walk by and don’t care about what I’m doing and that keeps me grounded.
When I play, I look at the audience and try to play what I think they may like. If it’s an older crowd, I will play versions of old songs. If I see younger people, I might play some of my songs. But I prefer to play my songs. When I gather a bit of a crowd I might say, “Now I’m going to play one of my own songs.” Sometimes I say, “I’m going to dedicated this song to you.” I have recorded some CDs live in the street to get that direct sound.
This may sound silly, but I think people who don’t enjoy music aren’t completely trustworthy. They are missing something in the soul. Of course, I see many Spanish people who understand the lyrics and cry at the music because it touches them, but I also see many foreign people who don’t speak Spanish at all, and they weep at the music. This means something. I don’t think I’m a great singer or great guitar player, but together I transmit something to the people. I know my music has soul and that’s what gets to people beyond the technical quality.
I have a good friend who is involved with a project called El Sueño de Vicky to raise money to fight childhood cancer in Spain. I saw she had written a book about a woman with breast cancer who was a real fighter. I wrote a song to accompany the book, and she showed the song to the Spanish Cancer Association, and they raised 50,000 Euros in one week with the song with merchandising souvenirs, like keychains and socks, and selling copies of the song. And I sing in fundraising galas also to raise money for them. On the street, I also sell these items and USB drives with the song for the association.
I was playing once in Nerja. A girl, her name is Eva, who has cerebral palsy only smiles and talks when she listens to my music. She watches all my videos. Her father tells me how much joy I bring to his daughter. Sometimes I notice people with disabilities have even special sensitivity to music, and it makes all of us better. It’s incredible. I feel completely fulfilled with this. Miami means nothing compared to this.
I’m completely outraged at how the government looks at street performers because I consider myself part of the Málaga scene, the fabric of the city, something the city can offer tourists. We are not beggars; we are working and adding life to the city. If you don’t like it, walk by, but many people appreciate this.
Really, it’s amazing I’m still playing music. Three months ago, I was flying back from Belgium from a gig at 2:30am. From the airport at 4:30am, I go to get my car and drive straight to Nerja for another gig. I didn’t sleep at all. My car was full of all my gear. Six kilometers before Nerja, I fell asleep at the wheel, and I fell to the water in my car 50 feet, 16 meters. I woke up when I crashed into the ground. I remember taking off my seatbelt in the water, but I couldn’t find the door handle. I remember saying to myself, “Don’t fight it. Let it go.” Then the police told him me I got out of the car with one arm, but I don’t remember how I got out of the car. I was in the hospital for three days. I dislocated my shoulder and broke three ribs. They had to pump water out of my lungs. Four days later, I went to play a gig with my broken ribs. I know there is something out there that wants me to keep making music.
So many professionals are looking at the clock when they are working, but I come to the street eager to play. I can not put a price on that. I have to keep my principles. I speak with some policemen who say, “It’s a shame that we have to remove you and take your guitar because you are such a good player.” And I say, “If you are ashamed of what you are doing, you are just a puppet for the state.” What I do fulfills me. If what you do isn’t based on your principles, you are going to miss something im your life.” Musicians are misunderstood. Call me crazy, but I can fly. Viva la música!
