Ca7riel: “I speak with the language of the moment” | Ca7riel, the post turro that harangues the parties, fills the rooms and paints for the 2018 revelation

Although for Ca7riel –pronounced Catriel– it began to become customary to harangue the most important festivals in Buenos Aires, share dates with the representative groups of the new local indie and sell out venues (such as recently La Tangente), until June he was still an artist incipient that was fighting for a place in the Buenos Aires musical kaleidoscope. But his debut at Niceto Club a month later set a turning point in his brief career. To the point that, unless a violent crash appears, the rapper is on the verge of consecrating himself as the revelation of the Argentine scene of 2018. And he has all the faculties to be: freshness, knowledge, good taste, impudence, identity and youth, which allowed him to develop a contemporary discourse without breaking with the legacy of the national rock heroes. And despite the fact that he did not fully exploit his enormous sound temperament, that meant being able to delve into self-management and his digital resources.

Nothing like it had appeared, as disconcerting as it was encouraging about the future, since the appearance of Simon Poxyran, who was four years older. But what no one expected, not even him, is that Catriel Guerreiro would also become the great hope of Argentine hip hop. Another one of those wonderful accidents of contemporary popular music. “Everything is finally happening… it’s the master plan,” ironically (or maybe not) the 25-year-old architect, who was one of the guests of bestseller, the brand new album by Juan Ingaramo. “I didn’t go to Niceto because he didn’t have money to pay the ticket, and the times I did it was because he was on the list. Playing on a stage like that gave me so much room to jump that I realized I wasn’t Beyoncé,” he jokes. Although her learning happens on the other hand. “I enjoy going to a shitty place more. There I see bands that are wrong, because they are more genuine, and I take something of what happens with me. There are no prejudices and I love that.”

Where did you come from?

–From my mommy’s belly, which belongs to Coronel Pringles, on the ortho hill. I spent half my childhood there and the other part in La Paternal. I am a porteño.

Why do you eat the “s”?

–I am middle class and my parents gave me everything I wanted, but I was born at a time when I could play ball in the street. And he did it with the neighborhood bums. He was ultra mama’s boy until…well…I discovered the street. From there, I ate all the “s”. I also eat them because they take the flow out of me.

What led you to discover flow?

–I never paid attention to any lyrics until some friends started rapping in fifth grade. I was having a very bad time, after the death of some family members, and my way of channeling was having a guitar on me. Although I am a self-taught musician, my old man always played the viola at home. Once I was at the bus stop and I was seized by super dark feelings that wanted to defeat my brain. It was four or five years ago. And that’s when I started shooting freestyle. I was driven by my need to create and to calm my mind. I found a bad flash shield. First I wrote the lyrics and then I understood what the other was saying. If you want me to liven up the party, I don’t do it with the guitar but with the freestyle.

And how you started?

–I started listening to Rage Against the Machine in a super anti-establishment moment. I got together to do it with some kids from Esnaola –the Superior School of Artistic Education in Music Juan Pedro Esnaola, from where he graduated as a teacher, which is a Hogwarts of music. I don’t know if you saw Harry Potter. I put together a band called Diafirmasú: half Uruguayan music, half crazy. I didn’t like it that much but it was the neatest thing I did. The kids were from the Partido Obrero and from then on, going to the marches and seeing Zack de la Rocha as their friend, I realized that with rap I could make friends and share my problems. I tried to merge rap and metal, although it all ended up in hip hop.

What does the title of your first album, CVE7E, mean?

–Rocket. That’s how some friends call the joint. Even though I smoked freshman year, I didn’t like shit. He was a kid, he wanted to be a Power Ranger. I made friends when I was 13 or 14 years old. I had very important talks in my life with a “cuete” in hand. With my old man, for example, he was very flashy. He was waiting a long time to do it with me. I even did it with my idols. It was always a way of giving each other a hug.

Although for many you fell now, that job is from 2015…

–I consider myself a happy guy, quite luminous, but I turn to music all the darkness. That way I don’t yell at people in the street afterwards. And that record, in fact, saved my life. then came POVRE. It was going to be an album and it ended up becoming an EP. It is the track list of the subject 7 to 11, and the previous ones will now come out in FREE. I put it in installments because of fucking capitalism. It is not easy to interpret a long work, especially if you do not have the patience and the trained ear. CVE7E It’s very beautiful and super real, it’s my childhood, but when I recorded it I didn’t like it. To the point that I erased it and kept only the letters. I did it again with more rag sounds and from that happened everything that happens now.

The 7 is present on your first album, in the division of the repertoire for your new album and you even have it tattooed on your face,Fis it part of your identity?

–I didn’t realize that I put together a repertoire from 7 to 11… I just got tattooed on my face on 7 because I was very angry. I had a problem with my cell phone and I went to a friend’s father to fix it. It was my only asset, what made me bourgeois. Suddenly he didn’t have it anymore. He broke it for me, stole money from me and we almost shit ourselves. He had shitty energy and just that night I went to my tattoo artist’s house and he said, “You know what you’re missing? A tattoo on the face. And boom, he did it to me.

Why did you intersperse it in Ca7riel?

–I like that my rapper name is the one my mom gave me. But the 7 differentiates me and separates me from myself. He chases me. Including it in words is the way ragpickers write, changing numbers for letters. The 4 is an “a”, the 8 is a “b” and right in the middle the 7 is a “t”. It is a facade. Inside I’m not a ragpicker or a rapper. I do hip hop because that’s what taught me how to sample. It is as noble as rice, that you can mix it with anything.

Te became the hope of Argentine hip hop, because your language appeals for the versatility that the genre imposes at this time: from trap to house.

–That’s medium strong. I would like to raise my head, every time they say that to me. I do not believe it. Unlike Venezuelan rap, which is more rebellious, there is a lot of trap here, a lot of shit, which I would like to see change. Since no one does, I put it on my shoulder.

Although you never cut your teeth on freestyle, together with Wos you offered a different perspective on the genre. Transgression or provocation?

–I like strong things like roquefort. I also like musical aggressiveness, which I don’t have in my real life. What happens to me with Wos, who is the only rapper I see from time to time, is that we love each other. That guy is pure light. But the difference between him and me is that I have a family of musicians who sensitized me and who made me the gauchada to convert everything that is in my head. I used to go to jazz jams since I was very little and from there I know them all. What the Wos lacks, it seems to me, is a crew behind it that supports it.

What is yours called?

–It is so huge that it has no name.

Could you do something else?

–In a song, if the singer says a lot of things, it makes me half rubber. On the other hand, the rapper, if he grabs the microphone and looks at the public, transmits a different message. This is how it is at this time, later on it will be otherwise. I’m not going to be this forever.

As a metaphor for his life and work, Cato – as his friends call him – lives on the border: between Barracas and La Boca, between hot water and the restraint of his friends, and between modernity and austerity. “I absorbed a lot of data from everywhere,” explains the artist, who co-hosts the radio program Orbit Fri on FM Bitbox. “I listened to jazz and metal, and I’m still a scholar. I did poorly with classical music, but the teachers loved me because I’m a jerk. It’s hard to touch something from a person who died 400 years ago.”

And it is that we are before a son of the Internet. “What I hate the most is repression,” says the rapper, who adapts his repertoire to the group format –and boy, is it a bandón– or to the sound system. “If I like all genres, why not mix them? Now my musicality goes through production. I play the guitar beautifully, and I don’t do what I want. Bad things happen, and what are you going to do? That I suck an egg all over you, with attitude. I try to be aware of what is going on around me.”

As well as you sample The fat of the capitalsby Serú Girán, in you topic Terrible Kikoin POVRE you translate the generational language into De Güinter is Comin. With what intention?

–I try to speak with the language of the moment. Luckily I’m old enough to do it. It is very flexible, banal and modern. We are in an age of hashtags. There are ragpickers who have hashtags in their songs and use clothing brands. It’s written in fucking Creole. I have no spelling errors, but I choose to have them for an aesthetic situation.

You came from two gangs: Astor and Los Burócratas del Fogón,whatwhat happened to them?

–I gave Ca7riel a super fuse to bring the public to Astor –in 2017 they released a beautiful EP, Holidays all year–, but now things have changed because my hiphop side has become very strong. Astor does soul rock, songs. We go to the room, we play, and what comes out we fine-tune it and record it. We have a record and all that, although very hard. We never cared to hit it because the songs are not hiteros. We’re just now starting to see that move. And The Bureaucrats adopted me. It’s almost metal. I am a metalhead of the soul.

Why do you call yourself a “super handle multi-instrumentalist”?

–In fact I am “instrumentija”. I always played the guitar but when I entered school everyone was a viol player. I became a bassist and spent a lot of time like that. My bass is shit. My guitar is a Fernandes that my dad gave me before he went to heaven. The kids of the environment bank me because they know I don’t have shit: I’m the poor guy who tells jokes and plays well.

But you live from music…

I have a very great financial need. I live here but I spend money with my old lady, who lives in a huge house. Here I am divine but when I lived with her, until the beginning of this year, she wanted to kill me. She doesn’t hear anything. Starting last year I got together with people with money. Those kids give me data about how her parents made money. I have a music teacher degree but I did very little, at 19: they sent me to marginal areas because I didn’t take the problems of rich kids.

How did you get into the scene?

–When I gave classes to the little children, at night I worked playing at the Faena, and there I met the musicians. We all played jams.

Are you overwhelmed by what is happening to you?

–There is a side that yes and another that does not. I love it when someone I appreciate comes along and throws me the best. They are not that many. It happened to me once and I couldn’t believe it. We were at the Faena, on Halloween, and we thought someone had dressed up as Sting. We finished playing and that bearded man approached me, who looked like Sting, and indeed it was him. He started to say things to me and I dropped a drop of piss. Since I speak shitty English, I was left wondering if he told me: “The rock of the future is shit because of you” or “You are the future of rock”. I did not understand anything. However, the people I love and respect the most are the ones who play with me.

You never go unnoticed, not even with your look.

–It is a small slap to another person. My friends were dressed super cool, with high tires, to dance cumbia, and I was a chubby metalhead with curls. The kids accepted me, luckily. Lots of love. But what I saw is that when everything came out of the factory, it was kind of sad. It’s a time when I dye my hair, dress weird and say things. I am a poisonous fish.

* Ca7riel will play on Friday, November 23 at 11:30 p.m. in La Tangente, Honduras 5317.

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Ca7riel: “I speak with the language of the moment” | Ca7riel, the post turro that harangues the parties, fills the rooms and paints for the 2018 revelation

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