Soy un macarra / soy un hortera / voy a toda hostia por la carretera —Jorge Ilegal
Busco un mundo mejor y escarbo en un cajón, por si aparece entre mis cosas —Robe Iniesta

Two essential voices of Spanish rock said goodbye last week. Jorge Martínez, indomitable soul of Ilegales, on Tuesday 9, and Robe Iniesta, heart and word of Extremoduro, on Wednesday 10.

An essential figure of Spanish rock is gone, but his music and attitude will always remain with us. —ILEGALES

Today we bid farewell to the last great philosopher, the last great contemporary humanist and writer in the Spanish language, and the singer whose melodies have moved generations upon generations. —EXTREMODURO

With them, not only two musicians, but a whole generation, seems to be saying good bye. Their deaths, so close together, concentrate the feeling that a chapter is closing: that of musicians who grew up without the internet, who learned by playing badly in tiny venues until they sounded indispensable.

In Jorge and Robe you can hear the echo of 1970s hard rock and punk, but also the emotional fracture that elsewhere would crystallize in scenes like grunge. Ilegales brought nervous, violent immediacy, as if the Ramones had grown up in the industrial neighborhoods of Oviedo, while Extremoduro stirred dirty poetry and intimate epic, not far from the raw wound that Nirvana turned into a global anthem.

Hasta siempre Robe!
Hasta siempre Jorge!
Always on!