It was like a hurricane.
Already overcome the half a century of living the world and having known better times, Bambino was presented in the television program of Isabel Gemio as a phenomenon of force 5 on the Saffir-Simpson scale: it was unbuckled, he suffered, waved his hands, he waved.
Cocks, was left until the last breath in the micro … it looked like a rock star and it was, perhaps the purest that has been in this rod and animal earth.
All this, with a music that looked like that Dorothy’s house was going to start from his foundations in ‘El Mago de Oz’: bulerias at all pill and those bongers as machine guns that definitively sealed the flamenco connection with the rumba and other American rhythms
back and forth.
Once the performance is finished, Gemio approached Miguel Vargas Jiménez (1940-1999), driller of sweat, and asked him about one of the songs he had played, ‘Loving and Living’, by Machín.
In it it is said: “I do not want to repent after / of what could have been and it was not”.
With that slight stuttering that he had when he was not giving him so much at the cante and dancing, he explained: “It is an important song for me because it was true. What I wanted, it was not. My principles … I speak of loves
“.
Next week premieres in the seminci of Valladolid – to his passage through the In-EDIT Festival of Barcelona – the documentary ‘Something wild.
The history of Bambino ‘, directed by Paco Ortiz and who has the participation of Enrique Bunbury, those of the River, Pitingo or Alberto García-Alix, among others.
The announcer Carlos Herrera exerts from Narrator and, in a moment, tells the story of child love of Vargas with a breeding of the Natal Utrera of Him.
A romance that was interrupted by the march to Madrid, to look for life in the Tabos.
“Since then,” says Herrera, “his was ambiguity, his life was like his songs: intense, passional, delivered excessively of wild love, without names or labels. Bambino was many things for the society of his time,
But, first of all, it was a free person. ”
In a well-known story, Miguel de Molina was singing Coplas in a theater and someone from the public shouted: “Ladybug!”
And he: “No. Call me Marichón, which sounds at vault.”
Bambino never came out of the closet as a slam like this; It was enough to sing ‘I’m the forbidden’ to put meat to all that hidden life of Madrid Francoist: “I am that night of pleasure, the one that is delivered without paper. / I am your punishment.
Because in your false intimacy, in every hug you give him / dream with me. ”
In the shadows of the night and the Farra also found Bambino taste, which in one of his latest public appearances – the tribute that was given at the Victoria Eugenia Theater in Madrid in April 1998, just a year before dying-
He presented hearing a cob at all times.
He had recently had returned to Utrera, where his mother and the rest of him still lived.
“I’m tired of acting, but of singing,” he explained about that inner exile.
And he had returned to the beginnings of him, to those sales where he started from kid, puritito outburst and waste of feeling.
“If I can not sing more in life, when I arrive, I arrived,” he said.
And so he passed: in which he had to be the first concert of his return tour, in Rota (Cádiz), he ran out of voice.
Soon they detected a throat cancer that took him to the grave.
Then he revived that recognition he harvested in the 60s and 70s. His gesticulation and theatricality opened the way for which he was then Raphael.
María Jiménez started, according to her words, like a “bambino with tits”.
In addition, she encouraged the meeting of Paco de Lucía and shrimp on the island, who met in his recording.
Asked by García-Alix on one occasion, that of San Fernando said Bambino was an “artist artist”.
Because he really liked the colleagues of profession and because, who else, who less, all stole something.
“90% of the lyrics are mine experiences, and when I finish singing on stage, I’m rested, I’m not tired, because I’ve already explained myself,” he said about his way of telling.
Bambino died without a guy, without seeing how he was awarded the title of Lgtbi pioneer and perhaps a miaja resentful of the consideration that had reached other rumbers, as Peret, who had arrived after him.
He never fit at all nowhere: too liberal for gypsies and too gypsy for modern;
rejected by purists of the joking and also by the iconoclastas;
Utrerano in Madrid and Barcelona and stranger when he returned to Utrera.
The almost two hundred songs he recorded, became one of the first kings of the gas station cassettes.
There are few images of him acting because he did not like to leave on television, which is a shame.
Because one can hear ‘the wall’ or ‘Bambino, piccolino’, two of the greatest jugglers, and still feel the breath of it.
But it is necessary to see it in action, as in the documentary, to be definitely destroyed at the passage of it.
