Barcelona, 1969. A group of young musicians emerging from the city’s folk-protest underground makes a decision that, in hindsight, will reverberate through the entire history of Spanish rock: to plug in, sing exclusively in English, and look straight toward the European Psychedelic and Jazz-Rock scene, turning their backs on both commercial Pop and the Folk purism of the Nova Cançó. Their name — Màquina!, complete with exclamation mark — carries within it the urgency of a manifesto.
What these musicians unleashed between 1969 and 1972, under the cultural pressure of Franco‘s dictatorship, constitutes what historians and archivists of Iberian rock today unanimously define as the “Big Bang” of Progressive Rock in Spain. Two albums, a handful of singles, a mythological live performance, and a parabola of just three years — enough to leave a mark that time has only deepened.
— Origins: The Grup de Folk and the Electric Turn (1968–1969) —
The roots of Màquina! are found not in traditional rock, but in the fertile and politically charged humus of the Grup de Folk, a Barcelona musical association founded in 1968 that united the folk-protest spirit of the Nova Cançó with international folk-rock influences. Operating within this collective was La Companyia, SL, a support band for artists such as Jaume Sisa and Pau Riba, whose ranks included the future pillars of the project: Jordi Batiste (voice, flute, bass) and Enric Herrera (keyboards).
With the dissolution of the Grup de Folk at the end of 1968, Batiste and Herrera decided to electrify their sound, pivoting toward an Anglo-Saxon Rock matrix. Herrera — drawn to the organ-driven power of Steve Winwood in the Spencer Davis Group — initially envisioned a trio format. The arrival of guitarist Lluís “Luigi” Cabanach and drummer Santiago “Jackie” García defined the group as a quartet. The programmatic choice that set them apart from everything around them was decisive: texts exclusively in English, a deliberate strategy to project themselves into the European underground, bypassing both the Spanish commercial circuit and the linguistic tradition of the Nova Cançó.
— The Ascent: Singles and the Salón Iris (1969–1970) —
In August 1969, under the wing of producer Àngel Fàbregas and the label Als 4 Vents (Diábolo imprint), Màquina! released their debut single: “Lands of Perfection / Let’s Get Smashed.” Despite its experimental nature — dominated by a Hammond organ and Psychedelic atmospheres that were practically unheard of in Spain at the time — the record sold over 10,000 copies, earning enthusiastic critical reception, albeit tinged with warnings about the difficulty of sustaining such music in the Francoist cultural climate.
By the end of 1969, with Josep Maria “Tapi” Vilaseca taking over on drums (later to found the Tapiman), the second single arrived: “Earth’s Daughter / Look Away Our Happiness.” In these grooves, Herrera’s compositional sophistication fully emerges — refined orchestral arrangements coexisting with a raw rock charge that brought the band another 7,000 copies sold, cementing their status as the definitive reference point of Barcelona’s alternative scene.
The moment of official historical consecration came on February 22, 1970, at the Salón Iris in Barcelona — a venue ordinarily used for boxing matches. The band performed before an audience of intellectuals, journalists, and fellow musicians, in what is today archivistically catalogued as the founding act of Progressive Rock in Spain. The combination of Batiste‘s charismatic stage presence and Herrera’s technical command produced a cultural impact without precedent.
— Why?: The Croissant, the Clock, and the Psychedelic Suite (1970) —
In May 1970, recording sessions began for the debut album, “Why?,” committed to tape in just four hours. The sessions were shadowed from the outset by compulsory military service — then lasting fifteen months — which struck Batiste mid-production. To complete the recordings, guitarist Josep Maria París was brought in, while Cabanach shifted to bass and lead vocals.
The album’s icon is its cover: a clock emerging from a croissant, drawn by Jordi Batiste himself. The youth of the era read into it an unambiguous political message — a call for Spain to “wake up” from Franco‘s regime. Batiste later clarified that the inspiration was purely artistic, rooted in the aesthetic of Salvador Dalí. The ambiguity has never fully dissolved, and perhaps that is precisely the point.
Musically, “Why?” rests on two essential poles. “I Believe” opens the record in 3/4 time — a rarity in Spanish Rock — with a stately Hammond organ at its center. The title-track, split across both sides of the vinyl, constitutes a suite of approximately 25 minutes: a savage improvisation that fuses Acid Psychedelia, fuzz-wah guitar solos, and Avant-Garde experimentation recalling the freest moments of the early Soft Machine. The album closes with “Let Me Be Born,” a more structured piece with vocal harmonies bearing a clear debt to the Beatles. “Why?” became an instant cult object among international Psychedelia collectors — and remains so today.
— The Crisis of Duality and the Jazz-Rock Turn (1971) —
The band’s cohesion was definitively undermined when, in September 1970, Herrera himself was called to military service. In his absence, the original lineup disintegrated: Cabanach was eventually conscripted as well, París relocated to Sweden, and Vilaseca — to honor outstanding contractual commitments — formed the Tapiman. The situation generated a phase of genuine legal and identity ambiguity, with Herrera determined to preserve the Màquina! name over the objections of the original members.
Taking advantage of military leave, Herrera rebuilt the band in 1971 around the members of the Blues-Rock group Crac: drummer Salvador Font, guitarist Emili Baleriola, and the extraordinarily young bassist Carles Benavent — then just sixteen years old. This new incarnation expanded into an eight-piece ensemble, incorporating a brass section with German saxophonist Peter Rohr and trumpeter Hubert Grillberger. The sound shifted radically toward orchestral Jazz-Rock, drawing from the models of Chicago and Blood, Sweat & Tears. The music press of the time began calling them “the Spanish Chicago” — praising their technical sophistication while mourning the loss of the raw, spectral originality of the psychedelic years.
— En Directo: The Final Testament (1972) —
The last chapter of Màquina! unfolded in July 1972. Herrera persuaded Jordi Batiste to return temporarily as vocalist for a series of concerts at the Casino Aliança de Poblenou in Barcelona. From those nights emerged “En Directo” — the first double live album in the history of Spanish rock.
The record is an archival document of great value, capturing the band in a raw funk and fusion dimension that marks a decisive distance from the “Why?” era. “Chains” serves as an extended showcase for Benavent‘s already remarkable bass technique. “Sonata” is the album’s most overtly progressive moment, anchored by an extended drum solo from Salvador Font. “Could That Time” — a Jazzed rereading of Eddie Harris‘ standard “Cold Duck Time” — underlines how far the band had traveled stylistically. The sole studio track, “I Can Only Fly But Very Well”, was added to fill the double LP’s running time. Despite accusations of “commercialization” — directed particularly at the funky single “Take It Easy” released the same year — Màquina! disbanded officially at the end of 1972, leaving a void in the Catalan underground that was never truly filled.
— Archival Recovery and Legacy —
The historical value of Màquina! has been preserved and amplified over time through a series of essential recovery operations. In 1982, the archival release Funciona! brought to light previously unreleased recordings and alternative versions from the 1969–1972 period, including collaborations with Canadian vocalist Arta Abelle. In 2004, Wah Wah Records reissued the collection with expanded liner notes.
The definitive reissue of the catalog’s crown jewel, however, arrived in 2021, when Guerssen — the Barcelona-based label that has become the gold standard for Iberian underground recovery — released a fully remastered vinyl edition of “Why?” in two configurations: a standard LP (GUESS178) and a limited, hand-numbered white vinyl pressing (GUESS178w). Both editions remain the only authoritative way to own this record in its correct, physical form — and are still available through Guerssen‘s network today.
More recently, the complete catalog has been accompanied by biographical liner notes curated by music historian Àlex Gómez-Font — author of the foundational essay “Quintaesencia Underground,” the definitive document of the Catalan counterculture from 1969 to 1973.
The 2010 Picap compilation “Let’s Get Smashed” gathered the complete singles discography, allowing a full chronological reading of the band’s evolution from Psychedelic Folk-Rock to Jazz-Rock orchestral grandeur.
Màquina! remain the quintessence of a Catalonia that sought, through Hammond organ and distortion, its own voice in the world — a clock that never stopped ticking, embedded in a croissant on the cover of a record that woke up a generation.
— Lineup —
Historical Formation (1969–1970):
Jordi Batiste / Voice, Bass, Flute
Enric Herrera / Hammond Organ, Piano, Arrangements
Lluís “Luigi” Cabanach / Guitar, Bass, Voice
Santiago “Jackie” García / Drums (founding member)
Josep Maria “Tapi” Vilaseca / Drums (from late 1969)
Josep Maria París / Guitar (joined 1970, replacing Batiste)
Jazz-Rock Formation (1971–1972):
Enric Herrera / Keyboards
Carles Benavent / Bass
Emili Baleriola / Guitar
Salvador Font / Drums
Peter Rohr / Saxophone
Hubert Grillberger / Trumpet
— Discography —
(1970) — Why? [Diábolo / Als 4 Vents]
(1972) — En Directo [Als 4 Vents] (first double live album in Spanish Rock history)
(1982 / 2004) — Funciona! [Apolo / Wah Wah Records] (archival collection, unreleased recordings 1969–1972)
(2010) — Let’s Get Smashed [Picap] (complete singles collection)
(2021) — Why? — Guerssen (LP reissue — available in black vinyl; limited hand-numbered white vinyl edition)