"I've Learned Where My Limits Are"

Antonio Orozco's first guitar was named Rosario, after his grandmother, and the latest is called Ana, "like my other grandmother." Between these guitars, Orozco embarked on a successful professional journey filled with numerous travels, concerts, and commitments. By autumn 2023, he reached his limit: after a concert in Brussels, his body forced him to stop abruptly. This led to the cancellation of 111 concerts but also marked the beginning of a physical and psychological recovery process that prompted him to reassess certain aspects of his life. From this period emerged an album, a documentary, and the book 'Inevitablemente yo' (Planeta), which he describes as "a very long song" in a conversation where he appears close and happy: "I feel like I'm in my 'prime', as the youngsters say. I can't believe the beautiful moment I'm living."

-Now you'll enjoy a more relaxed Sunday vermouth.

-It's the most therapeutic thing there is. If there's something I've missed since I started in this industry, it's precisely that, being able to gather with the people I love on Sundays at noon and having that feeling of having won the battle of the week. It's the same feeling I have right now, looking back and saying: "We've made it."

-There came a moment when you couldn't take it anymore.

-I've been working a lot, doing many concerts: the other day they mentioned a number and I was shocked because it's over 3,000. Look, my grandmother used to say: "Either you stop, or your body stops you." That's how it is. Three years ago, there was a moment when I had to stop, and that allowed me to tell this story from that perspective. I think the only difference between the people reading this interview and me is that I'm lucky enough to be able to tell it.

-You must have felt an enormous responsibility having to stop suddenly and cancel 111 concerts.

-The decision is so important and impacts so many things and families all of a sudden that I had to consult it several times with different people. Many things accumulated, like a lack of awareness of the present and always thinking about what's next. And also, to take care of others, sometimes you neglect yourself. I've learned where my limits are, knowing that I can't do 90 concerts a year or be in twelve countries. Due to my upbringing, work always tries to go in that direction, but you have to set limits.

-You were also lucky to be able to stop.

-Of course, because many people go through very difficult times and can't afford to stop suddenly. But I, thanks to life and having saved a little, was able to stop to start again.

-I mention it because some might think you're privileged to have that possibility.

-It's entirely respectable for everyone to think what they want. No one forces me to compose songs or write books, just as no one is obliged to listen to my songs or read my books. I was born in La Florida, a very humble neighborhood in L'Hospitalet (Barcelona). My parents have worked hard, my mother is 80 years old and still works as she did when she was 14 because she believes it's the way to educate us. When I do what I do and say what I say, I don't intend to prove anything. It's a matter of survival, and everyone survives as they can. Writing has given me life.

-Aren't you afraid of showing vulnerability?

-Do you think so? I don't think so. When I was asked to tell this story, I thought: "If I had been told some of these things, I would have probably solved some of them much earlier." Without the intention of being a self-help book, I'm convinced that my story is that of many people who have gone through similar situations but also don't find answers to their questions. The answers in this book aren't mine; they come from professionals with solid and proven criteria, and they can help many people.

-You state in the book that you're in the process of mastering the ego. How's that going?

-The ego is something that affects everyone in one way or another, but I think I can boast of being quite grounded, probably because the circumstances of my life haven't made it easy for me. Every morning I try to be aware of who I am, where I come from, and where I'm going. These are easy questions I ask myself every day.

-They're not easy at all.

-For me, they are because I have an eighteen-year-old son who needs to be told every day who he is, where he's going, and where he comes from because he's very young, has many things to do and learn, and because he's had to live in a position that, perhaps, he wouldn't have chosen.