"Music has a transformative power that goes beyond words. Throughout history, it has been a fundamental tool for challenging racial and socio-cultural divisions while building bridges where walls once stood. Blues, in particular, is a perfect example of this."

Antonio Vergara: Philosopher's Stone Blues

Antonio Vergara is an award-winning musician, educator, lawyer, and cultural worker from Ecuador. He's well known across Latin America and the Caribbean as a multi-instrumentalis, top-shelf blues guitarist and lap steel player. He is also a singer, songwriter, producer, and engineer. He spent 30 years as a first-call sideman and musical director. Antonio Vergara’s new album, The Fury (2024), blends mysticism and tradition in a powerful blues experience. The Fury is a deeply sincere and intimate journey to the heart of the blues, blending raw emotions with guitars that scream freely to the four winds. A collection of 13 tracks that invite listeners to explore the depths of the blues with a bold mix of mysticism, tradition, and raw emotion. Produced by Antonio Vergara and engineered by Claudia Correa at the prestigious AVA Recording Studios, both previously nominated for Latin Grammy Awards.                   (Photo: Antonio Vergara)

The Fury stands out not only for its captivating compositions and lyrics but also for Antonio's masterful instrumental performance. Recognized for his prowess with the electric guitar, Antonio takes his craft to new heights by incorporating the lap steel guitar and resonator, creating soundscapes that capture the essence of the blues. The production of The Fury reflects Antonio Vergara's commitment to artistic authenticity and excellence. With The Fury, Antonio Vergara reaffirms his place in the contemporary blues landscape while opening new doors to experimentation and emotional connection. The Fury, reached a Grammy nomination in the category of best contemporary blues album. This album is an invitation to those seeking a musical experience that explores the deepest corners of human emotion and the tradition of the blues.

Interview by Michael Limnios        Special Thanks: Claudia Correa & Antonio Vergara

How has music influenced your views of the world? Where does your creative drive come from?

Music has been much more than a means of expression for me; it’s a lens through which I observe, interpret, and connect with the world. As an artist, musician, and producer, I feel music has a unique ability to transcend cultural, emotional, and social barriers. It has taught me that regardless of geographical or ideological differences, humanity shares a common thread: the need to tell stories, to feel, and to express.

Blues, in particular, has profoundly influenced me. It is a universal language that carries the weight of human experience—its struggles, joys, and resilience. Through blues, I’ve learned to appreciate the beauty of simplicity, the importance of roots, and the authenticity of emotions. It has helped me develop a sense of gratitude for the small victories in life and a deeper empathy for the struggles of others.

My creative drive comes from several places. First, from my emotional connection to music itself. The guitar, especially my lap steel guitar, has become an extension of my soul. It’s as if every chord or riff is a conversation between my inner emotions and the outside world. Additionally, I draw inspiration from people’s stories, the places I visit, and the energy that comes from collaborating with other artists. Collaboration challenges me to step out of my comfort zone and see music from new perspectives.

Lastly, I believe my creative drive also stems from an inherent need to contribute to music’s legacy, to leave something that endures beyond me. Every album, every composition, is my way of documenting the time I live in, the emotions I experience, and the connections I share. It’s a deeply personal process, but at the same time, I strive to make it accessible and resonant for those who listen.

How do you describe your music philosophy and songbook? What's the balance in music between technique (skills) and soul/emotions?

My musical philosophy is deeply rooted in authenticity, storytelling, and emotional connection. To me, music should be an extension of who you are as a person and a reflection of what you want to communicate to the world. In my case, blues is the language that best articulates my vision, as it embraces vulnerability and truth with raw honesty.

In my songbook, every composition is a story, a fragment of life encapsulated in notes and verses. I don’t aim to create songs just to fill space; I craft pieces with purpose, pieces that connect with human experience and offer a unique perspective. My songs explore themes like resilience, mysticism, love, inner struggle, and spiritual connection. While I hold great respect for the roots of blues, I don’t confine myself to traditional frameworks; I enjoy incorporating elements from other genres and experimenting with different sonic textures to keep the creative spark alive.

When it comes to balancing technique and soul, I see them as two sides of the same coin, but with a dynamic relationship. Technique is essential because it provides the tools to execute your ideas with precision and explore new possibilities. However, technique without soul lacks depth; no matter how fast or perfect your playing is, if it doesn’t convey emotion, it’s hollow.

On the other hand, emotion without technique can be limiting. For me, the goal is for technique to serve the emotion, not the other way around. It’s like building a house: technique is the blueprint and tools, but emotion is the design, the colors, and the warmth that make it a home. I always strive for my music to be a blend of both—flawless execution that, at the same time, moves and resonates with the listener.

This balance isn’t static; it changes depending on the song, the moment, and the message I want to convey. Some songs demand more technical virtuosity, while others thrive in emotional simplicity. Ultimately, the best music achieves an organic balance so seamless that the listener doesn’t notice where technique ends and soul begins.

"The key to keeping my music relevant is balancing respect for the roots with openness to change. Blues has an immortal soul, and my goal is to secure its place in the hearts of new generations—not as an echo of the past, but as a vibrant voice of the present and the future." (Photo: Antonio Vergara)

What moment changed your life the most? What’s been the highlights in your life and career so far?

One moment that marked a turning point in my life was my first international performance alongside blues legends such as Eddie “The Chief” Clearwater, Sugar Blue, Lurrie Bell, and Billy Branch. Being there, surrounded by musicians whose work had inspired me for years, was an awakening. I not only understood the magnitude of what blues represents as a genre but also my responsibility as a musician to contribute to that legacy with authenticity and respect. It was a moment that crystallized my purpose in music and solidified my path as an artist.

As for the highlights of my life and career, several moments stand out as foundational pillars:

• The Grammy nomination for Best Contemporary Blues Album. This achievement is not only a milestone in my career but also a historic moment for my country and for blues in Latin America. Being the first Ecuadorian and the first Ibero-American artist to receive this nomination is a recognition of the work, dedication, and love I’ve poured into my music.
• The release of my twelfth album, The Fury. This record represents not just a technical and artistic leap but also a space where I’ve been able to explore new emotional and collaborative dimensions, working with Grammy and Emmy winners and nominees. Each song is a testament to my evolution as an artist and producer.
• My first Latin Grammy nomination as a mixing engineer. This was a moment that highlighted a facet of my career often behind the scenes: my work as a sound engineer and producer. This recognition affirmed that my efforts in the technical realm are as significant as my achievements as a musician.
• My work as a mentor and educator. Teaching has allowed me to share knowledge and contribute to the development of new generations of musicians and producers. Watching my students grow and achieve their own goals is a constant source of pride.
• Recording and producing over 90 albums throughout my career. Each one is a chapter in my story, an opportunity to experiment, learn, and connect with other artists.

Each of these moments has been a fundamental piece of my journey, but what unites them is the constant pursuit of self-improvement and of connecting with the emotions of those who listen to my music.

Why do you think that blues music continues to generate such a devoted following in Latin America? Are there any similarities between the blues and the genres of local (Latin American) folk and traditional forms?                              (Photo: Antonio Vergara)

Blues has a special connection with Latin America because it shares the soul of our stories. At its core, blues and traditional music from this region come from the same place: the need to express authentic emotions, to narrate struggles, hopes, and resilience. Blues is not just a genre; it’s a form of catharsis, and in Latin America, we have a visceral relationship with music as a vehicle for emotional expression.

I believe blues resonates here because we share a common history of adversity and overcoming challenges. Our folk genres, such as tango in Argentina, son cubano, or Mexican ranchera music, also tell stories of heartbreak, loss, and hope. Like blues, these narratives carry profound emotional weight and seek an intimate connection with the listener.

There’s also a musical connection that cannot be ignored. Blues, like many Latin American genres, has African roots. The rhythms, syncopations, and that soulful essence you feel in both a blues lament and a candombe from Uruguay or a samba from Brazil remind us of the cultural heritage we share that transcends continents.

Another similarity is improvisation. In blues, musicians have the freedom to express what they feel in the moment, whether through a guitar solo or their voice. That spontaneity is also present in our traditions. I think of flamenco, the décimas of Andean music, or even the son jarocho gatherings in Mexico, where improvisation is key. It’s as if blues and our music speak the same language, just with different accents.

Blues continues to generate such devoted followings here because it is real, honest music that connects directly with the soul. It doesn’t matter if you weren’t born in the Mississippi Delta; the emotions blues conveys are universal, and in Latin America, we understand that depth because we live it. Here, music is not just listened to; it’s felt. And when you feel the blues, it doesn’t matter where you come from—you’re already part of its story.

What do you miss most nowadays from the music of the past? What are your hopes and fears for the future?

What I miss most about the music of the past is its authenticity. There was a much more direct connection between the musician and their work, something you could feel in every note, in every performance. Recordings had an almost human quality—imperfect but full of life. You could hear the artist’s soul, their effort, their story. It was a less mechanical, more artisanal process. Albums weren’t just collections of songs; they were complete narratives that reflected the essence of the time and space in which they were created.

I also miss the way music was given time to grow. Albums were listened to from beginning to end, allowed to carve a place in the listener’s heart. Today, we live in an era of rapid consumption, where music often seems lost in a sea of algorithms and endless playlists. Back then, music was a ritual, an experience that deeply connected people.

I hope the future of music finds a balance. It inspires me to see young artists rediscovering classic genres and reinventing them with their own voices. I believe technology, if used correctly, can be a powerful tool to expand the boundaries of creativity, but it should never replace the humanity behind the process. Diversity and cultural fusion are great opportunities; I believe the future of music can be a space where barriers are broken, and new languages are created.

My biggest fear is that music will lose its emotional essence. There’s something dangerous about relying too much on the immediacy offered by digital platforms. The pressure to go viral or to meet metrics instead of emotions threatens to turn music into a disposable product. I’m also concerned about the role of artificial intelligence in music creation. While it offers exciting possibilities, I wonder if music will remain genuinely human when the creative process becomes too automated.

Music will always find a way to reflect the human soul. Artists will continue fighting to preserve the emotion, connection, and authenticity in what they create, even in a world that changes so quickly. The key is not to lose sight of what makes music so powerful: its ability to tell stories and touch hearts.                           (Photo: Antonio Vergara)

"Music has been much more than a means of expression for me; it’s a lens through which I observe, interpret, and connect with the world. As an artist, musician, and producer, I feel music has a unique ability to transcend cultural, emotional, and social barriers. It has taught me that regardless of geographical or ideological differences, humanity shares a common thread: the need to tell stories, to feel, and to express."

What are some of the most important lessons you have learned from your experience in the music paths?

One of the most important lessons I’ve learned on the musical journey is that authenticity always prevails. You can perfect your technique, use the best equipment, but if what you’re doing doesn’t come from a genuine place, it won’t connect with people. Music is a language of the soul, and the honesty in what you convey is what creates that unique connection between the artist and the listener. Understanding this has allowed me to focus my work on staying true to my essence rather than following trends or formulas that promise immediate success.

Another key lesson is the importance of patience and resilience. Music is not a sprint; it’s a marathon. There are moments of uncertainty, doors that don’t open, and paths that seem impossible. However, I’ve learned that every obstacle is an opportunity to grow, both personally and artistically. What defines a musician is not just their talent but their ability to stay the course, even when the road gets tough.

Collaborating with other artists has taught me the value of humility and listening. In music, as in life, there’s always something new to learn from those around you. I’ve shared stages with legends and worked with musicians from diverse genres, and each encounter has been a lesson in expanding my perspectives and enriching my own art. Music is not just about standing out but contributing to something greater than yourself.

I’ve also learned that success shouldn’t be measured solely by awards or numbers. Prizes, sold-out concerts, and streaming figures are important, but they’re not essential. The most valuable thing is the impact you can have on people—the power of a song to accompany someone during a tough time or to celebrate a joyful moment. Those are the moments that truly define the purpose of making music.

Finally, I’ve understood that constant evolution is key. Music, like any art, is a living process. What was innovative yesterday may be outdated tomorrow. This doesn’t mean abandoning your roots but being open to new ideas, technologies, and forms of expression. Maintaining that curiosity and willingness to reinvent yourself is what allows you to grow as an artist and stay relevant without losing your essence.

Every step on this journey has shaped me, not just as a musician but as a person, and I’m grateful for every lesson music has offered me.

What is the impact of music on racial and socio-cultural implications? How do you want the music to affect people?                                  (Photo: Antonio Vergara)

Music has a transformative power that goes beyond words. Throughout history, it has been a fundamental tool for challenging racial and socio-cultural divisions while building bridges where walls once stood. Blues, in particular, is a perfect example of this. It was born from African American communities in a context of oppression, yet its message of resilience and humanity has resonated universally, transcending borders and cultures.

In terms of racial implications, music has the power to humanize experiences that are often distorted or overlooked. Songs by artists like Nina Simone or Billie Holiday didn’t just entertain; they brought the pain and struggle of a community to the forefront. This ability of music to generate empathy makes it a powerful tool for social change. It’s also been a space where cultures meet, creating a rich blend of influences that reflect the diversity of the human experience.

On a socio-cultural level, music acts as a mirror of society. It documents stories, traditions, and contexts while simultaneously challenging norms and broadening horizons. I see blues, like many other genres, as a vehicle for expressing the struggles of the marginalized and celebrating the victories of those who find their voice in adversity. It’s a reminder that while our stories may differ, our emotions are universal.

When I think about the impact I want my music to have on people, my desire is simple yet profound: I want them to feel connected. I want my songs to remind listeners that they are not alone, that their emotions—whether joy, sorrow, hope, or struggle—are valid. Music has the ability to reach places in the soul that words cannot, and my intention is for every note and every lyric to be an invitation to feel, reflect, and perhaps heal.

I also aspire for my music to inspire curiosity. I enjoy incorporating cultural elements and sounds that may be unfamiliar to some because I believe music has the power to expand horizons. If someone listens to my work and, beyond enjoying it, discovers something new about blues, my culture, or even themselves, then I feel I’ve fulfilled my purpose as an artist.

Music should be a reminder of our shared humanity. In a world often obsessed with dividing us, I hope my music creates a space where people can come together, even if just for a few moments, to remember that in the end, we all share the same emotions, dreams, and struggles.

What are you doing to keep your music relevant today, to develop it and present it to the new generation?

Keeping my music relevant today is a challenge I embrace wholeheartedly. In a world where trends change rapidly and younger generations consume music in entirely new ways, my approach has been to evolve without losing the essence of who I am as an artist. I’m committed to staying true to my roots in blues while seeking innovative ways to present it and connect with a diverse, younger audience.

One of the most important ways I develop my music is by exploring new sonic textures and collaborating with musicians from different genres and cultures. In my latest album, The Fury, I invited artists from around the world—from a Russian violinist to an African American spoken word performer—to create a sonic mosaic that blends blues with global influences. This approach not only keeps my music fresh but also broadens its reach by attracting listeners who might not be familiar with traditional blues.

Technology plays a key role as well. I use modern tools like plugins and guitar modeling software to experiment with new sounds. This not only allows me to innovate but also connects me with younger musicians and producers who see technology as a common language. Through these means, I aim to show that blues can be as relevant and dynamic today as it was a century ago.

I’m also active on digital platforms, where music has the power to reach global audiences instantly. It’s not just about releasing songs but creating content that tells stories—from videos of recording sessions to mini-documentaries about the influences behind my compositions. Social media allows me to interact directly with my followers, understand their perspectives, and sometimes even involve them in the creative process.

To connect with new generations, education is also crucial. I conduct workshops, masterclasses, and talks where I share not only my music but also the history of blues and its relevance in today’s cultural context. Teaching young people about the roots and impact of blues gives them a deeper appreciation of the genre while showing them how it can be a vehicle for their own creative expressions.

Finally, I focus on intergenerational collaboration. Working with younger musicians not only inspires me but also helps me understand how they view music and the world. This interaction is an opportunity to learn, grow, and create something that resonates with them and with listeners from my generation.

The key to keeping my music relevant is balancing respect for the roots with openness to change. Blues has an immortal soul, and my goal is to secure its place in the hearts of new generations—not as an echo of the past, but as a vibrant voice of the present and the future.

"My musical philosophy is deeply rooted in authenticity, storytelling, and emotional connection. To me, music should be an extension of who you are as a person and a reflection of what you want to communicate to the world. In my case, blues is the language that best articulates my vision, as it embraces vulnerability and truth with raw honesty." (Photo: Antonio Vergara)

Currently, you’ve released The Fury, which earned a Grammy nomination in the Best Contemporary Blues Album category. What has been the hardest obstacle for you to overcome as a person and as an artist, and has this helped you become a better blues musician?

The journey to The Fury and its Grammy nomination has been incredibly rewarding but also filled with obstacles that have shaped me both as a person and as an artist. One of the biggest challenges I’ve faced has been balancing my artistic identity with the demands of today’s music industry, where success often seems to be measured more by social media numbers than by the depth of the work. As an artist committed to blues—a genre rooted in emotion and authenticity—this has been a constant struggle: staying true to my essence while finding ways to connect with an audience living in such a fast-paced world.

On a personal level, overcoming internal doubts and moments of uncertainty has been a significant battle. Music, like any art form, has its moments of solitude and self-criticism. There have been times when I’ve questioned whether my work was making the impact I intended, whether the endless hours in the studio were worth it, or whether I was truly honoring blues’ rich tradition. These questions, while difficult, have pushed me to deepen my purpose as a musician and remember why I started this journey in the first place.

Another major obstacle has been geography. Being a blues artist in Latin America, far from the traditional epicenters of the genre like Chicago or the Mississippi Delta, has required me to work twice as hard to be heard and recognized on the global stage. This meant not only perfecting my craft but also learning to be my own promoter, producer, and advocate in an industry where visibility often depends on being in the right place at the right time.

These challenges have been essential to my growth. They’ve taught me to value every small step, every authentic connection with my audience, and every opportunity to share my music. They’ve also given me a unique perspective on blues: I see it not just as a genre but as a universal force that transcends borders and connects shared human emotions.

Ultimately, these experiences have made me a better blues musician. Every obstacle I’ve overcome is reflected in my music—not as a story of perfection but as a testament to struggle, resilience, and learning. Blues is precisely about that: transforming pain, doubt, and hardship into something beautiful and meaningful. I believe The Fury encapsulates this philosophy. It’s an album that not only celebrates blues but also reflects my personal journey toward growth and authenticity.

I am convinced that these challenges have made me stronger and more connected to the essence of blues. The Grammy nomination is not just recognition of the album but also of every step along the way that brought me here.

Do you have any stories about the making of the album The Fury? From the musical and emotional point of view, is there any difference between The Fury and your previous albums?                                                   (Photo: Antonio Vergara)

The Fury is not just an album; it’s a deeply personal chapter in my life as a musician and as a human being. Every stage of its creation was filled with stories, emotions, and challenges that made it unique compared to my previous works. From the beginning, I knew this record had to be a deeper exploration, both musically and emotionally. I wanted it to capture the intensity of blues while also reflecting the complexities of my evolution as an artist.

One of the most memorable moments happened during the recording of “Superstitions Lead the Way.” While I was recording the lap steel guitar solo, I felt such a strong connection with the instrument that it seemed to guide the song on its own. It was recorded in one take, and the energy in the studio was palpable. One of the musicians even remarked that it felt as if the music had taken on a life of its own. It was a moment where everything aligned—a reminder of the spiritual power that music can have.

Another significant story involves the recording of “The Rebel’s Right.” This track brought together musicians from different parts of the world, including a Russian violinist and an African American spoken word performer. Each of them contributed their unique perspective, creating a rich tapestry of sound and culture. For me, this song symbolizes how music can transcend boundaries and bring people together to tell a shared story. The collaborative process was a testament to the universal language of music.

Musically, The Fury is a more ambitious and daring work than my previous albums. While I’ve always respected the roots of blues, with this album, I wanted to push its boundaries. I incorporated global textures and explored dynamics I hadn’t worked with before. There’s a deeper focus on arrangements, atmospheres, and crafting a sonic landscape that envelops the listener. This record goes beyond traditional blues structures, aiming to adapt its essence to a contemporary and universal language.

Emotionally, The Fury is more intense and personal than anything I’ve done before. There’s a vulnerability in these songs that I haven’t always shown so openly. Each track is a window into my thoughts and emotions during a specific period of my life. From the melancholy of “Delta Shine” to the mystical energy of “Hoodoo,” the album traverses a wide range of emotions and experiences.

The main difference between The Fury and my previous albums lies in its intent. With this record, I didn’t just want to create music; I wanted to craft an experience—a journey that’s both emotional and spiritual for the listener. If those who hear it feel that connection and find something that resonates with them, then I know that The Fury has fulfilled its purpose.

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(Photo: Antonio Vergara is an award-winning musician, educator, lawyer, and cultural worker from Ecuador. His album "The Fury" blends mysticism and tradition in a powerful blues experience)