“After four decades, I had become increasingly disgusted by the greed, the commodification of music, and, perhaps most frustratingly, the excessive political correctness that has gradually found its way into parts of the blues and jazz world.”

AG Weinberger: Sharing His Experiences 

AG Weinberger is Romania's most respected blues and jazz guitarist, composer, and author, with a career spanning more than four decades. Nicknamed "Romania's Mr. Blues," he has transformed the country's music scene into a space of artistic freedom and expressive creativity, delivering landmark performances in which virtuosity and improvisation become unique acts of creation. AG blends the heritage of American blues with European artistic sensibility, creating a distinctive and deeply recognizable musical language. These artistic expressions incorporate electronic music instruments and textures without abandoning the musician's blues and jazz roots. Instead, both coexist harmoniously as two complementary facets of the same artistic identity. AG Weinberger himself embodies the spirit of a "gringo”, a Romanian with a triple minority heritage (Jewish, Hungarian, and Roma), a diversity that is reflected in the stylistic fusion of his music. Romania's premier bluesman, AG Weinberger, returns with his latest release titled "Sharing", released on April 2026, by Bigfoot Records under exclusive license to Universal Music Romania.

(AG Weinberger / Photos by Nagy Attila)

Although he initially believed he had reached musical and emotional saturation after celebrating his long time career milestone, his wife's encouragement inspired him to create this anniversary album. "Sharing" features ten original compositions and two special arrangements, with the track order guided purely by musicality and rhythmic variations. Highlights of the album include a cover of Randy Newman's "Short People"—a philosophical and humorous nod to his own 6'5" stature—and Willie Nelson's "Crazy," a tribute to his late mother, delivered with the "quiet wisdom" of his musical maturity.

Interview by Michael Limnios                     Archive: AG Weinberger, 2019 Interview

Special Thanks: Betsie Brown (Blind Raccoon)

As this album was created at your wife's urging as an "anniversary record," in what ways does it reflect the celebration of your 40-year career?

In a rather unexpected way... this album reflects my 40-year career precisely because it was not born out of celebration alone. When my wife suggested making an “anniversary record,” I was actually pretty burned out and deeply disappointed by certain aspects of the music industry—and, more broadly, the general decline of humanity.

After four decades, I had become increasingly disgusted by the greed, the commodification of music, and, perhaps most frustratingly, the excessive political correctness that has gradually found its way into parts of the blues and jazz world.

This record became less a victory lap and more a moment of reckoning. It gave me the opportunity to look back at what I had done, but also to ask myself why I was still making music and what was still worth saying.

Indeed, the album celebrates those 40 years, but not by trying to reproduce the past, rather refusing instead to be trapped by it. It's a record made from experience, disappointment, curiosity and, ultimately, a renewed desire for artistic freedom. I have never been interested in pleasing the industry—or anybody else.

In that sense, Sharing is probably the most appropriate anniversary record I could have made. It's a statement that I am still searching, still questioning, and still unwilling to make music according to somebody else's rules.

Although you celebrated 40 years in music, this record is not a "concept album" but rather a collection of songs composed over the last year. By what criteria did you determine the track order based on musicality and rhythm?

Yes. All the songs on the album were written between June and November 2025. Although this is not a retrospective or a concept album. It is very much a record of where I was creatively, emotionally and artistically at that particular moment.

The track order was determined primarily by musicality, dynamics and rhythm. I wanted the album to have an internal flow—to breathe, move, create tension and release, rather than simply present the songs in the order in which they were written. I looked at the character, tempo, groove and emotional weight of each song and tried to create a natural progression from one track to the next.

In a way, sequencing an album is like putting together a live set. You need contrast, continuity, moments of intensity and spots where you allow the listener to step back and breathe. So the order emerged organically from the music itself, rather than from any predetermined concept.

“Even after all these years, I’m still searching for new sounds, new ideas and new ways of saying something without falling into clichés. What I'm really sharing is my perspective—my way of seeing, questioning and making sense of the world.” (AG Weinberger / Photos by Nagy Attila)

You composed these songs over the past year during a period of emotional saturation. Did the actual process of songwriting ultimately function as a form of therapy for you?

Definitely. In fact, I think songwriting was one of the few ways in which I could process that period without having to explain it to anyone.

Writing these songs gave me a way to transform frustration, disappointment and exhaustion into something constructive. It wasn't therapy in the clinical sense, of course, but it was certainly a form of emotional and artistic release. Instead of allowing all those experiences to remain bitterness, I could turn them into music. In the meantime, however, I also wrote several pieces with a very different, more contemporary character.

I wasn't trying to write an album. I was simply trying to make sense of where I was—and music was still the language I trusted most.

Randy Newman’s "Short People" carries a personal story from your school days. How does a school joke transform into a "philosophical and ethical" musical statement today?

Short People have been following me since my teenage years. Being 6'5", you can imagine the kind of jokes I had to endure at school. So, in a way, this song is a philosophical and ethical follow-up to something that began as a schoolyard joke.

What interests me now is not the physical difference itself, but what we do with difference. A joke about height can be harmless, but the moment we start assigning value, character or rights to people based on an arbitrary characteristic, we enter much more dangerous territory.

That is also what makes Randy Newman’s song so brilliant. It uses absurdity and satire to expose the mechanism of prejudice—the ridiculous human tendency to create an “us” and a “them.”

For me, revisiting the song today is therefore less about being “the tall guy” who remembers the jokes from school and more about asking why do human beings feel such a need to diminish what is different from themselves? What began as a childhood joke has, over the years, acquired a rather uncomfortable philosophical dimension.

“Improvisation keeps me present—it forces me to listen, react and take risks. As long as I remain curious about music, about people and about life itself, I don't see any reason to stop creating.” (AG , Romania's most respected blues and jazz guitarist, composer, and author / Photos by Nagy Attila)

Willie Nelson’s "Crazy" was one of your mother's favorites. What does fulfilling this promise mean to you now that you feel you have reached a level of "quiet wisdom"?

Definitely. “Crazy” was one of my mother’s favorite songs, and I promised her that if I ever had the opportunity, I would record it and deliver it in my own way. But I think I needed to grow into it.

Some songs you can sing when you are young, others have to wait for you to acquire the life experience they require. “Crazy” is deceptively simple, but emotionally it carries a great deal of vulnerability, longing and resignation. Willie Nelson wrote it, and Patsy Cline’s interpretation made it iconic, but I didn't want to imitate either of them. I wanted to find my own relationship with the song. So, yes, I think I finally reached that place of quiet wisdom—or at least something resembling maturity, in my own voice.

The album features ten original compositions. Which aspect of yourself do you share ("Sharing") the most through these tracks?

I guess is my way of looking at the world. After 40 years of making music, I’m probably more interested in revealing how I think, how I observe, how I question things.

There is a lot of myself in these songs—my frustrations, my humor, my skepticism, my tenderness, my curiosity, and certainly my contradictions. But I don't think Sharing is a confessional album. It goes deeper than that, I suppose.

Even after all these years, I’m still searching for new sounds, new ideas and new ways of saying something without falling into clichés. What I'm really sharing is my perspective—my way of seeing, questioning and making sense of the world.

You are nicknamed "Romania's Mr. Blues." How heavy is the burden of being considered the person who transformed your country's music scene into a space of artistic freedom?

I don't take it too seriously. Nicknames are flattering, but they can also become a little dangerous if you start believing them yourself.

I certainly did my part in opening doors and creating space for a different kind of musical expression, but I never saw myself as the person who “transformed” the Romanian music scene. That sounds far too heroic—and I have a healthy suspicion of heroic narratives.

I simply wanted to play the music I believed in, on my own terms, and to prove that artistic freedom is something you practice rather than something you ask permission for. If that helped others feel that they could do the same, then I'm very happy about it. As for the burden? Not heavy at all. The guitar is heavy enough.

“Well, the Blues Police have been keeping an eye on me for quite some time. I’ve been doing this throughout pretty much all of my records—introducing sounds, textures and ideas that occasionally make the traditionalists nervous.” (AG Weinberger / Photos by Nagy Attila)

Your music blends American blues heritage with European sensibility. How do you bridge these two different worlds during your live performances?

I don't really think of them as two separate worlds when I'm performing. I see what I do as blues-related music—rooted in the American blues tradition, but not confined by it.

The blues gave me a sense of belonging precisely because it comes from the experience of being an outcast, of being a minority and of having to find your own voice outside the mainstream. My European background added another layer to that experience—perhaps a more reflective way of looking at identity, difference, nuance and storytelling.

On stage, I let these elements coexist naturally. I’m not trying to sound “American,” nor am I trying to make the blues European. I’m simply using a blues-related vocabulary to express my own experiences, ideas and musical curiosity.

After all these years, I think authenticity comes from where you stand when you play, not from where the music originally came from.

In your new sound, you incorporate electronic instruments and textures without losing your jazz and blues roots. How does the traditional blues audience react to this modernization?

Well, the Blues Police have been keeping an eye on me for quite some time. I’ve been doing this throughout pretty much all of my records—introducing sounds, textures and ideas that occasionally make the traditionalists nervous.

Every time I introduce electronics—or simply venture into a different musical language—I imagine a little alarm going off at Blues Police headquarters: “Attention! Unauthorized sound detected. Possible violation of the Blues Code.”

But honestly, I’ve never been particularly interested in getting a certificate from the Blues Police. The blues has always been about expression, individuality and survival—not about following a set of museum regulations.

I use electronics because they are part of the musical world I live in and I am always looking for new textures and soundscapes. They don't erase my blues roots, they simply give me more colours to work with.

And after all these years, if the Blues Police still haven't managed to arrest me, I must be doing something right.

Having reached 60 years of life and nearly half a century of career, what is it that continues to motivate you to improvise and create on stage?

Curiosity, probably. At this point, I’m less motivated by ambition and much more by the need to discover what can still happen.

Improvisation keeps me present—it forces me to listen, react and take risks. As long as I remain curious about music, about people and about life itself, I don't see any reason to stop creating.

I suppose I’m still searching for something I haven’t heard yet—even if I have no idea what it is.

AG Weinberger - Home

(AG Weinberger / Photos by Nagy Attila)