A Abraham El Zambo it overflows the cante unintentionally. It escapes him. It oozes out through the pores of his skin. He says the verses without thinking. He lets them fall with astonishing naturalness. He doesn't dwell on pondering the cante, recreates it by sifting it through the wicker of his surname without imitating anyone. He sings in his own way, without ostentation or shouting. He doesn't pay attention to demonstrations. He only complains and savors as few know how, taming the bass, grieving on the ground, because pushing is easier and there are many for that. But to endure the abysses of a lament jiere, as he jirió in the recital that we were lucky enough to enjoy at the Peña Flamenca Genaro Marín of Valencina de la Concepción (Seville), within the programming of the Andalusian Circuit of Peñas Flamencos of the Andalusian Institute of Flamenco.
What a great idea! Rubbing Abraham's ducas on my chest was a real discovery. My friend, we'd been predicting it. Jose Antonio Troya, President of the Peña Flamenca Torres Macarena, and I when we crashed at a party in Jerez in the blessed house of the Luis de la Pica Flamenco Cultural AssociationAnd on Sunday night, we both went on a pilgrimage to be slapped in the face by the Jerez-like character and personality.
The guitar of Domingo Rubichí He carried him better than in his arms, rounding out the depth of his throat, adding flamenco-like tones to his responses, with falsetas as fat as bells, very flamenco and full of experiences that run from his heart to his fingertips, distilling over the strings of the bajañí and the ebony of the neck the perfume of the festivities and the knowledge of a wise man venerated by the most unique voices to have him at their side. Mingo's sonanta is no small thing. palmas accompanied with discretion and jingle Angel y Lua, who then took the obligatory little step with the age of his land.
«Abraham El Zambo squeezed a handful of fandangos that sentenced like lashes, curling the melismas of his privileged throat through which a noble heart with hints of depth was revealed. A hundred times he made my hair stand on end. Because he is different. That he is not a flamenco so that it can beat you up, but with the exquisiteness of its cante "I'm sucking"
Abraham opened with Levante, singing with Almería and tying the lead with Cartagena, where he captured our ears until he left the stage. He shone without fanfare, attuned himself without theatricality or false embellishments. While bulerías por soleá abound in Jerez, not many people are dedicated to the pure soleá, as he did well, presenting a bouquet of variations known by orthodoxy and which you can sample in the video below, which I'm publishing with his permission. He wove it together with supreme taste, full of spontaneity, without measuring it in his head, from his left foot to his Adam's apple, from his soul to his ring.
Without breaking a sweat, he rocked the thirds of tientos tangos, unconcerned about the rhythm: it runs in his blood. The lyrics were carefully chosen, the turns were melodic without abusing the tempo. Everything in its place, with well-placed phrasings. He squeezed in a handful of fandangos that sentenced like lashes, curling the melismas of his privileged throat through which a noble heart with hints of depth was revealed. He made my hair stand on end a hundred times. Because he is different. That he is not a flamenco so that it can beat you up, but with the exquisiteness of its cante sucked.
Now he really entered the bulería por soleá, continuing with the piñonate of his tragaero and the winks to his birthplace. But I liked him more in the seguiriya, where he complained far from the histrionics, wringing out his gypsy undertones, crying tears by the quintals. canteListen to it right here with a handkerchief in your fist. And whoever wants to understand, let them understand. Why should I list the styles if everyone knows that when you sing straight, you lose your mind?
He bolted the door with bulerías. From Jerez, from Camarón, Flowers El Gaditano, Joan of the Stir and whoever he wanted. Because he knows, wants, and can. If you have the chance to hear him, don't miss it. Be warned, you serious fans. Abraham is fresh water in the panorama of what jondo. And he doesn't imitate. Enjoy Abraham El Zambo and the cante mamao!
Credits
recital of cante by Abraham El Zambo
Andalusian Circuit of PeñaFlamencos of the Andalusian Institute of Flamenco
Peña Flamenca Genaro Marín
House of Culture of Valencina de la Concepción, Seville
7 September 2025
Cante: Abraham El Zambo
Guitar: Domingo Rubichi
Palmas: Angel and Lúa
