Canet Rock, 50 years of the festival where everything was possible

In the years between the death of the bloodthirsty dictator and the rise of a much-desired democracy—and one that was deeply disappointing for those who spent 37 years dreaming—a space opened up where everything seemed possible, even holding a major music and counterculture festival when Franco was still alive and shooting. That was what Canet Rock was, bringing together 25,000 people on July 26 and 27, 1975, to share the latest from that musical scene led by Pau Riba, La Companyia Elèctrica Dharma, Maria del Mar Bonet, Barcelona Traction, the Andalusians Lole and Manuel, the Platería orchestra, and Jaume Sisa, present in spirit but banned by the authorities. Twelve hours of music and freedom to dream that, on their 50th anniversary, are commemorated in a book and a photography exhibition signed by Donat Putx and Francesc Fàbregas, respectively.

“These were particularly fertile years for proposals with a certain personality,” notes Donat Putx, music critic for this label and author of the book Canet Rock, mig segle de música i follia (Enderrock Books), where he recalls the four editions of the festival held between 1974 and 1978, as well as the brand's return in 2014 with a different format. “A very creative musical scene emerged, articulated around Zeleste, but not only there,” he notes, “as well as a series of tribes created around music, this whole amalgam of counterculture.” In the words of Joan Fortuny of Dharma, “it was as if we were counting ourselves, and until that moment we didn't know there were so many of us!”

Canet was the first major modern music festival held on the Peninsula, where the only precedents dated back to the Ciutadella Park Folk Festival in 1968, or the progressive music festival held in Granollers in 1971. Outside our borders, the legendary Woodstock (1969) and Isle of Wight (1968-70) festivals had been held, although for Putx they are not comparable because it was “another time, another scene”, the Catalan one on one side and the Anglo-Saxon one on the other, and in between too many things happened during some very turbulent years.

The festival's origins were shared by the creators of the Zeleste venue, inaugurated just two years earlier and the birthplace of Ona Laietana, and the company Pebrots Enterprises, linked to the musical group La Trinca and responsible for organizing the Sis Hores de la Cançó in Canet itself. Those from Barcelona provided the musical offering, and "those from Canet," as Victor Jou, founder of Zeleste, called them, were in charge of the grounds and the structure.

This "structure" revolved around a stage built on a mound of sand, with no floor at the back and a rather modest sound power of 2,500 watts, insufficient to fill the available space. "They did it without any major influences," says Putx, quoting Rafael Moll, another member of the Zeleste clique. "They worked on the fly" and without a large capital, agreeing to give a third of the profits to the musicians, who in turn would share it proportionally, regardless of the prestige of each.

Beyond the musical aspect, Canet was the meeting point for a generation imbued with the hippie movement, the May '68 movement, and other utopias that flourished during those years. These events took place in the row of stalls set up in front of the stage, where people could buy, sell, give, and exchange. "It wasn't a political thing, although everyone there was against the dictatorship, but something more vital, focused on changing the world and the way we live in it," the author comments.

“We set up the El Rrollo Enmascarado stall,” recalls Javier Mariscal, co-author of what is considered the first underground comic. “Nazario came up with the idea of ​​buying olives with pits, drawing some asses, and whoever threw the pit in would get a copy of La piraña divina , which was the only truly underground comic ever made. It was completely illegal. It had very explicit stories about sex and what is now called gay, but used to be called faggots,” he explains. The stall was rounded out with other merchandise: “chocolate, joints, tripe, a bit of everything,” and a tent where Lole and Manuel slept. An oasis of freedom surrounded by the Civil Guard that Max Sunyer, a member of Iceberg at the time, compared to a playground. “The police didn't enter the grounds, but you could see them. Inside the festival, it was a free territory, 12 hours during which Franco was dead, a very beautiful fiction.”

All these utopias ended with the arrival of democracy and the imposition of specific rules for living together that, in turn, severely clipped the wings of the dreamers. It's no coincidence that the first Canet Rock took place four months before Franco's death, while the last took place in September 1978, less than three months before the Constitution was voted on. "These festivals are held while one regime dies and another is born. There's a disorderly, chaotic, turbulent interregnum here, which we shouldn't idealize, but which was a lot of fun; everything seemed possible," says Putx.

From the first Canet, performances like Pau Riba's, clad in tight blue swim trunks, which even outraged some of the audience, will remain in the memory. Also memorable were Lole and Manuel, who introduced thousands of young people to the new flamenco scene, and the Companyia Elèctrica Dharma, in collaboration with Els Comediants, who filled the stage with giants and big-heads. "In the photo, you see more of the big-heads than the Dharma," recalls with a laugh Francesc Fàbregas, a direct witness to the festival and creator of the photography exhibition on the first Canet Rock, which can be seen at the Ateneu de Sant Just Desvern starting this Saturday. "The festival represented a very significant step forward for our generation, given everything that came from abroad, Woodstock or Wight," adding that it was held here during a dictatorship, "that's its great merit, getting permission to hold it."

However, Jaume Sisa was denied permission, having been banned for statements that the "competent authority" considered anarchist. "The myth of Qualsevol nit por sortir el sol was largely born there," Putx emphasizes. The absence of the galactic singer-songwriter was remembered when, during his turn to sing, an empty chair was placed on the stage while the song played over the speakers and the entire audience sang along. It is said that Sisa, who was present at the festival, was moved by the scene, and hours later, as the sun rose, Manel Joseph recalls how he performed El setè cel solo on a guitar. "He was surrounded by his friends, some members of the audience, and all the festival's garbage; it was beautiful," recalls the vocalist of the Platería orchestra.

Read also Jaume Sisa: “I still don't know what I meant when I said, 'Maybe the sun won't come out.'” Donat Putx

Sisa was present at the second edition of the festival, dressed in a black suit and white beret. Around 20,000 people attended that 1976 event, with a lineup once again populated by Catalan bands and improved sound equipment, handcrafted by the organizers themselves, as Josep Maria Mainat recalls in the book: “We made the wooden boxes, we bought the speakers in Italy,” a task that took months. “It was a family affair,” recalls Manel Joseph, who, in addition to performing in the first three editions, was involved in the organization due to his ties to Zeleste. “I transported a piano myself, we went to the Pebrots headquarters and took it on an open Ebro road, everyone in the back holding the instrument.”

The first era of Canet Rock ended in 1978 after a change of direction that brought international artists such as Blondie and Ultravox to the festival, while security services failed to prevent most of the 30,000 attendees from entering the venue without going through the box office. It was the end of a cycle; open-air festivals were no longer so rare; the music scene had changed, as evidenced by the first punk festival of the Aliança del Poblenou in 1977. A transformation in society at all levels took place, affecting the festival itself. “Perhaps the attendance could have been maintained,” Putx speculates, “but not with that aura of exceptionality.”

This is what happened with the second era of Canet Rock, which has been held at the Pla d'en Sala since 2014, a resounding success. "It's the recovery of the brand, but the approach has changed just as the musical ecosystem and society have since the 1970s." If the goal of the first Canet was to create a scene, the current one—organized by the promoter Sunmusic—is to be "the end of the line" for bands, where they perform once they're established. A different kind of festival for a different kind of time, where young people, instead of wanting to break away from their parents' way of life, complain about not being able to live like their parents.