From the beach bar to Valladolid: King Africa, the king of summer and his surprising change of life

Alan Duffy is an Argentine who wears Bermuda shorts and a wide blue shirt on any given Tuesday, gets desperate with the queues at the bank and has spent long periods in quiet Valladolid for 21 years. The city of discreet people and winter mists welcomes those who have made several generations jump under the nickname of King Africa, always associated with strident colors, summer parties and catchy songs. The king of verbena and brass bands combines the frenzy of the stage with a relaxed routine that he enjoys between Pucela and Puerto Banús (Málaga), his two residences in a Spain where it is almost a sin to shorten the oes of his hit song

when it starts ringing in any fashion and gathering club. The artist knows that he owes part of his glory to that song and he wears it with pride, but he warns of his philosophy: "Not because they call you the king, you have to live in a castle."

The conversation takes place in a beach bar on the Las Moreras river beach, where the sand and the Pisuerga give the people of Valladolid an inland sea. The singer sows some jokes in his speech, such as when he says that he has "28 years ... of career", because he refuses to confess his age and only admits that he has "two figures". King Africa resides in a place far removed from the glare, the spotlights and the glitter of fame, with which he gets along but does not pay much attention to it. He needs the tranquility that he found in the Parquesol neighborhood, without the demands of previous overwhelming experiences such as those felt in New York, São Paulo, Barcelona or Madrid. Once he settled in Valladolid, he found the advantage of “having everything” at hand but without too much saturation.The monarch of the party maintains that the proximity to the capital and the airport marked his decision, to be able to move and work without many difficulties, but in the lies of the city it was always commented that there were love factors through. "He doesn't know, he doesn't answer," he laughs when he is threatened with addressing more personal issues. As for his adaptation, he points out that he soon got used to the Castilian cold and, against the cliché of Castilian sobriety, he found nice people who soon became friends that he still has: “They say that Valladolid people are dry and closed, but I never had problems with that".responds smilingly when threatened with addressing more personal issues. Regarding his adaptation, he points out that he soon got used to the Castilian cold and, against the cliché of Castilian sobriety, he found nice people who soon became friends that he still has: “They say that Valladolid people are dry and closed, but I never had problems with that".responds smilingly when threatened with addressing more personal issues. Regarding his adaptation, he points out that he soon got used to the Castilian cold and, against the cliché of Castilian sobriety, he found nice people who soon became friends that he still has: “They say that Valladolid people are dry and closed, but I never had problems with that".

Notoriety, he assures, has not put the star mask on him. It is common to see him at the Nuevo José Zorrilla, the Pucelano football stadium, to cheer - and suffer - Real Valladolid like another fan of a sandwich and scarf. One of his lesser-known hobbies is his rock side, as he likes to listen to rock from the eighties and nineties and discover remixes and new melodies with which to entertain himself and learn when he lets go of the microphone. The photos and the recognition, he is grateful, they cheer him up because they remind him that he is making someone happy, but he does not want praise: "I only make music for fun and amusement." One of the sensations that he likes the most is going through Puerto Banús, the usual scene of celebrities of all kinds, and attracting attention.The "affection" that he notices is evident when these admirers admit that they are not talking to other familiar faces, but that he has given them so many parties that they cannot avoid greeting him. This Argentine feels honored by the definition of "king of the summer", but he does not feel like a monarch "of a region or of anything" nor does he sing hymns. Provoking something beyond wanting to shake the skeleton with one hand on the waist and invent sexy movements does not suit him.

King Africa has lived for a long time between Valladolid and Puerto Banús, in Malaga.

Javier Alvarez

Time runs until those who remain in the collective imagination for a musical backlash that has already turned 20 years old.

King Africa explains that he would never have imagined that the vaunted year 2000, in which he expected “flying cars or the conquest of space”, would bring him the song of the summer.

The "battle cry" of

—A version of the homonymous song by the group Azul azul— expanded its label around the world and performed throughout Europe, Las Vegas and Japan.

There he found, when landing in 2003 for a month-long tour, that even in the most “rigorous” countries they enjoy doing “pachangas”.

This international expansion, he maintains as the heat presses and gives even more value to his inseparable sunglasses, did not make him succumb to eccentricities or "yacht parties."

He is clear about it: "My bomb is to be calm and have a good time."

The multicolored costumes remain for the nights of revelry, those that began to promote in Spain when in 1998

became the number 1 of the Santa Cruz de Tenerife carnival.

Later would come other hits such as

and

.

The face of the adopted pucelano twists when talking about the era of masks, distance and the prohibition of rubbing.

The pandemic has especially punished live music, with concert suspensions that have made him remember the teachings of his mother and grandfather: "Save, you never know when you will need it."

This shortage of performances makes him ironic with the complaints of the hospitality industry: "I laugh, I wish we could have worked a little."

This summer he has only been able to act three times, hence his criticism of the "crazy four" who do not respect the context of enjoying culture sitting in a chair: "Nonsense is not corrected."

More information

• Why does it no longer make sense to talk about the song of the summer

King Africa, who has succeeded in front of audiences of 250,000 people, indicates that thanks to his years at town parties, he assumes that there are rows of seats before the intermingled crowd and that people of all ages also have fun. pipa: "Grandparents also have the right to go to a concert." Currently, he compares, the restrictions only allow dancing "like a chotis, on a tile." King Africa strongly hopes that all professions can return to normal work. For this reason, he believes, the audience's commitment to sanitary measures will be key to recovering the musical shows and sweating and shouting as if there were no tomorrow. There is already a desire for

or

with him as the absolute boss of the stage.

The artistic vein and the character he plays are noticeable when the talk ends and he is asked for some photos. Then his huge and contagious smile appears, wide like that of the crocodile supposedly sighted in the Pisuerga last June and which also gives its name to one of his songs. His hands open and his arms are extended, giving hugs, before immortalizing himself as if he were peering into the water, among a flock of white ducks, a longed-for normal summer, without masks, in which to scream "La booooooombaaaaaa" and that only spread the virus of the party and good vibes.