The Spanish Beatles’ First Hit!

Los Brincos (The Jumps) — “Flamenco”

“The Spanish Beatles” hit #1 in ’64 with the first flamenco rock hit. It “revealed the swagger that would become an essential part of their image”. As Roberto Macho tells us:

Something that they would develop during the first stage of the group is a rogue and cocky vein in their songs, like in . . . the magnificent “Flamenco”, with an irresistible beginning with the drums and the Spanish guitar, and in which they mix beat sounds with a flamenco rhythm that makes it the best of the work.

Diego Manrique writes:

[T]he Spanish answer to The Beatles[,] Los Brincos were Spain’s first truly pop band and their songs, image and attitude represented a needed breath of fresh air in a stale music scene and a country under a dictatorship. . . . There’d been young bands in Spain since the late 50s, but they were limited by the lack of good instruments, scarce information and the lack of liberty under Franco’s regime. Usually, these bands played cover songs of foreign hits and only released 4-song EPs. Suddenly, Los Brincos took it to another level: they wrote their own songs, and introduced themselves with an amazing debut LP supported by two EPs and two singles (until then a rare format in Spain). Novola, the recently created pop subsidiary of Zafiro, funded the adventure. Everything seemed rather impressive, from the looks — Spanish capes, shoes with bells — to the claim that they were going to cause “Brincosis” . . . . Obviously, the point of reference was The Beatles, although with clearly nationalist aspects, such as the clothes or the reference to flamenco. There were, of course, no anti-establishment intentions: Juan Pardo’s father was a navy admiral, long hair was not allowed. They’d travelled around the world — Antonio Morales, aka Junior, was born in The Philippines . . . . However, their music vocation caused a drama within their conservative families, with the exception of Manolo, brother of the actor Agustín González. Making fun of that opposition, for a while they thought about naming the band Las Ovejas Negras (“The Black Sheep”). However, they had genuine rock credentials: they had been members of Los Estudiantes and the very strong Los Pekenikes; both Juan and Junior had recorded as solo artists. . . .

Stranger Than Known says:

With their catchy good day sunshine feel + evident sense of humour . . . their music manages to conjure up a more innocent and optimistic era. Which is not bad when you consider that for many Spaniards “the swinging 60s” completely passed them by. Many rock records, films and books were censored or banned and there was no freedom of speech or official opposition to the government. Any form of protest could get you locked up, beaten up or even killed. . . . This seems to make Los Brincos’ achievement all the greater. . . . When I first came across [thr band] . . . I heard the same bright harmonies and perfect pop craftsmanship that can be heard in [The Beach Boys, The Lovin’ Spoonful, The Mama and Papas, and The Turtles]. For me Los Brincos deserve a place in the great 60s pop pantheon . . . . In the 1960s Spain was a corrupt fascist dictatorship morally propped up by a Catholic church with an obvious antipathy towards the new “liberal” rock/pop culture . . . . Spain was cut off and the climate was conservative and claustrophobic. . . . Such was this moral rigidity that even the Beatles were not warmly welcomed by the Spanish authorities when they played Madrid in the summer of 1965. Ringo Starr’s abiding memory of playing in Spain . . . was of policemen beating up their young fans. However, despite all this, and rather amazingly, Spain actually had a thriving beat group scene in the 60s. . . . Los Brincos, who were known in Spain as the “Spanish Beatles” (they even had their own version of Beatlemania called Brincosis) were probably the most successful Spanish band of the decade. Over the 6 years they recorded (1964–1970) they had string of hits and left behind a body of work which, although varied, and, on occasion, a little too saccharine coated for me, . . . contain[s] some rather glorious 60s powerpop highlights. . . . Their first album . . . [‘64’s] Los Brincos [comtaining “Flamenco”] comes over as a kind of 60s garagerock classic. It mixes influences as varied as R’n’B, Doo-wop, The Beach Boys, The Beatles, Surf and even proto punk and around half the songs are sung in English. . . . Like the great 60s UK bands they took something essentially American and merged it with their local culture to create something fresh.

As to the band’s early history, Aloha Criticon tells us:

Los Brincos were created in Madrid in 1964. Fernando Arbex . . . had played as a teenager in a duo with Rafael Castellanos before joining the group Los Estudiantes in 1960. Four years later he met Juan Pardo . . . former Pekenikes, at the Norba nightclub, with whom he planned to form a new group. In this way, Arbex, as singer and drummer, joined the guitarist and vocalist Pardo . . . . [and added] vocalist and guitarist Antonio Morales, “Junior” . . . and Manolo González, bassist . . . brother of the actor Augustin Gonzalez. . . . Thanks to Luis Sartorius, a close friend of Arbor for having been part of Los Estudiantes, they managed to attract the attention of the Zafiro label to record in Novola, where they contacted the representative and producer Mariní Callejo. Unfortunately, Sartorius died in a traffic accident . . . .

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