At the 2006 edition of the Festival de Cante de las Minas, Miguel Poveda, winner of the Lámpara Minera in 1993, had a surprise prepared for the audience. Midway through his recital, he announced that he felt indebted to the people of La Unión and wanted to give them a small gift: “…and for me, there is no better gift than the voice of Luis el Zambo” said Miguel. And what a gift it was: Luis Fernández Soto, “Luis el Zambo”, thanks to Poveda’s own initiative and invitation. For the first time, Luis’s warm voice filled the space of the Cathedral of Cante, asserting his very personal way of expressing flamenco.

 In Jerez, flamenco followers had long known the vintage flavor of singing from the Zambos, a lineage connected to each and every singing family in this town where family means so much. Luis’s fame was already well-established among fans in western Andalusia, despite the fact that the singer began his professional career at nearly fifty years old. But here, in La Unión, he was a pleasant surprise for many. Jerez flamenco has always held a privileged place in this festival, and in its forty-seventh edition, Luis Fernández “El Zambo” assumed the position he deserved, accompanied by people from his hometown, giving fans the opportunity to enjoy his instinctive lived-in singing.

El Zambo belongs to the most recent generation of singers who learned the art through oral transmission, grandparents to parents, and parents to children – what ethnomusicologists call “flamenco de uso”, which is linked to the concept of flamenco as a way of life. Born in 1949, his childhood coincided with the rise in popularity of fandangos, when the maestro Antonio Mairena had just begun to mark the path of classic flamenco, Camarón de la Isla had not yet been born, and the so-called “gypsy singing” had only limited commercial interest.

Luis’s training was as natural as it was intense. As a young man during the difficult post-war years, he experienced the harsh life of working in the fields with all the associated sacrifices. However, his memories of those times focus on the atmosphere of singing and dancing that filled the long nights in the communal housing, the gañanías: “We would sit on the floor with gathered straw mattresses, a wood fire burning, the people singing, pass the toast in the morning, and that was it. I lived through many of those gatherings, very very good, without guitar or anything”. The singing of Luis el Zambo reflects the truth of that natural environment and exudes a warm and unmistakably authentic aroma.

The family business was the fish market where Luis also worked for years before trading his apron for a microphone and becoming a professional singer, mature but fully in possession of his faculties. In fact, since then, the singing and fame of Luis el Zambo have continued to grow exponentially. He is an experienced interpreter, and his performances are much sought after at the most important festivals. Despite coming to professionalism late, after a lifetime of singing, Zambo’s approach is as fresh as it is relevant. He deeply values his heritage, and when he sings, he thinks of his people: “I feel a great responsibility… you remember those genes, and if things don’t go well, you suffer. Singing is a gift from God, and you have to carry it in your genes; otherwise, it’s impossible”.

Smiling, good-natured, talkative, and above all, flamenco to the core, Luis is an oasis of sincerity in the sea of superficiality that too often characterizes modern flamenco. Aficionados appreciate what they call his “cante hablao” (spoken singing): a delivery so natural, without melisma, embellishment, or bravado, that it’s as if he were speaking instead of singing. If his siguiriyas and tonás exude the flavor of his Santiago neighborhood and recall old singers like Terremoto, Tío Borrico and Sordera, his bulerías benefit from the added value that comes from a thousand dawns with singing, and his fandangos taste like “Gloria”, while his soleá is pure gold. Luis el Zambo, the youngest old master, standard-bearer of great singing, and with whom we have the privilege of sharing an era.