Mare Nostrum, the sea that simultaneously brings us together and apart, has pervaded for ages as a source of distance and dispute. And yet, it is the same wave that washes against the two shores: in Alhucemas and Almuñecar, in Suani and Salobreña, in Thara Yousef and Torrenueva… The same wind that blows in the coasts of Granada is named as its opposite in the Riff coast. The same sky, the same stars leading our way among the two shores. Let us imagine for a moment that this sea of ours disappears, that the two coasts become one and, like a giant jigsaw puzzle, its pieces fit into one another; let us imagine that the sand and the people who inhabit them merge together, that our languages become one, that the stars shine leading us into the same path, that the wind blows in just one direction, bringing to our ears the melodies of a common land: the sounds of ATROJ.
ATROJ is a new band, and we are also striving to achieve a new sound, a sort of amalgam among the oral tradition music forms of the Iberian Peninsula and those from the other side of the Strait of Gibraltar, particularly those related to the Amazigh culture.
ATROJ is an expressive, weird-sounding term. It is a word uniquely used in Andalusia, elsewhere known as cámara, troj, troja, atroje. It designates a room in the house where the straw and wheat were kept, also used to dry fruit such as melons, quinces, persimmons or grapes. Normally, it was located on the upper floor of the house, right between the roof and the vaults. Nowadays, it usually refers to the attic where we pile all the useless or unwanted things. We have wished to vindicate something which belongs to tradition, something –like all the objects in the attic- too often forgotten.
Pictures from a concert:
Live Concert: Ochigham awar