Aleš Brichta: When Things Are Agreed Over a Beer, Traditions Are Born. Like Rock Christmas at Barča

The Barikádníků Cultural Center — simply known as Barča among fans — is far from being just an ordinary cultural venue. It is a place where the history of Czech rock and metal was written.

It was here that Aleš Brichta began with his first bands, and it was here that the tradition of Rock Christmas was born — a tradition that has lasted for many years. Shortly before this year's edition, we spoke with Aleš Brichta not only about Barča, but also about his musical beginnings, songwriting, fans, and his view of today's world.


Today we're at Barča. You played here at the very beginning of your career and even worked here. How would you describe your relationship with this venue? Why Rock Christmas at Barča?

Barča is simply the place in Prague where we started with Arakain. And not just with Arakain — even earlier, with Apad and other bands I played in, I had several performances there. I also had the advantage of actually working at the cultural center, because I became the head of investments there. So I knew the people around the place very well.

At that time, the director of the Barikádníků Cultural Center was Karel Čech — a man who was a friend of mine and with whom we discussed the very first basic ideas. I also had great relationships with Jiří Zajíc, the economic deputy director. We were the ones who came up with the idea of the first Rock Christmas concerts — sitting in a pub, saying it would be good to organize a rock Christmas show.

And where else but Barča? I already had contacts there, so we simply agreed. They say that all important things are born over a beer — and it's true. We always sat down in a pub, had coffee, beer, maybe a shot, and agreed on everything. If we had tried to do it officially, we would have gone crazy — by the time everything was approved, the concert would already be over and the next year would be starting.

That's how it always worked — everything was based on friendly, good relationships. And when that works, everything works — even things that seem impossible. I'm just really glad that Barča exists.

Back then, a tradition was born, and I somehow managed to contribute to its creation. I sincerely hope it will last for many more years and that Rock Christmas at Barča will continue. It was incredibly important for us to have a base where we could organize such concerts and invite many bands — Czech bands as well as foreign ones.

For example, the very first Czech performance of Tublatanka took place at Barča. That's where I met Martin Sarvaš, their lyricist and manager. We agreed that their first Czech concert would be at Barča — and from there, everything took off.

At first, Tublatanka were completely unknown in the Czech Republic. They played as Arakain's support act. But the funny thing was that the following week their video Skúsime to cez vesmír appeared on television. Two weeks later, when we played Barča again, Arakain was suddenly the support band — and Tublatanka the headliner.

That was simply how it worked back then. TV exposure changed everything overnight. Fortunately, we were friends, so there were no hard feelings. But it was funny how the roles reversed within fourteen days.

We had good relationships with musicians both in the Czech Republic and Slovakia. We played in Slovakia, they helped us there, and we helped them here. Everything worked because of friendship. Official agreements often look serious on paper — but that doesn't mean they'll actually work. Go for a beer with someone, and suddenly everything changes — usually for the better.

Barča eventually became a kind of hub where bands liked to play. If someone asked, "Do you want to play in Prague?" and heard "At Barča," the answer was immediately: "Barča? Sure."

That's how a tradition was born, and I'm really glad I was part of it.


Although you're known as a metal singer, you listened to country music when you were young. Did that influence your later work?

I'm basically a country guy — I grew up on country music. I even played country and folk with friends. For me, country and folk are pretty much the same thing. I started out with an acoustic guitar, just strumming and playing with friends.

I went to a language-focused high school in Prague, where many people interested in culture gathered. We formed school bands, played wherever we could. Some of those musicians later ended up in bands that still exist today. It's nice to meet people years later and realize they're still in music — sometimes in completely different genres.


How did you feel in the role of a singer who was at the birth
 of a legendary metal band and then left it after 20 years of performing? Did you have a clear idea back then of what you wanted to do next? Did you say to yourself, "Now I'll do things differently," and how do you look at that vision today?

I had always been making my own music independently. Even when I was in Arakain, I was constantly creating something. So for me, it was simply a continuation. No real difference.


The Zemětřesení project was dedicated to the legacy of Jiří Schelinger. How did you experience this project, and what did it give you?

I have to admit that unfortunately I never had the chance to meet Jirka personally, which was quite uncomfortable for me. But his songs spoke to me, I enjoyed them, I liked them a lot, and I discussed them extensively with Franta Čech, who wrote the music for him. That music simply resonated with me — I enjoyed it, it appealed to me — and I said, "Yes, I like this, it works for me, and I'm glad we can approach it in our own way and that there's no problem with that." So of course we adjusted things slightly, but we kept the foundations the same as Jirka had them when he recorded or prepared the songs.

In a way, it's a challenge to do something like that — especially after a singer like Jiří Schelinger. It's almost an act of audacity to even try recording and singing a song that he had already sung before. The first person who remembers Jirka and experienced that song will obviously throw it back in my face and say something is wrong. But I approached it simply from the perspective that I liked it, so we'd give it a try and see how it turned out. I think it turned out quite well — no one reproached me for it, so hopefully everything is okay.


Do you think that in today's era of social media, bands have 
an easier time becoming well known?

Today it's easier for them to get into people's awareness, but the question is what they're actually like. I can't really judge that, because I haven't experienced it myself. When I try something on myself, then I can say something about it — but speaking on behalf of others and saying what I think might sound nice, yet it doesn't necessarily reflect reality at all.


What do you think about metal music of the 1980s, when you first became famous, and about today's music? How do you think it has changed?

Well, it has changed… but that's relative. I'll admit that I don't really follow metal music today very much — actually, I don't really follow contemporary music in general. I simply know that hip hop and things like that get on my nerves. Just like disco used to get on my nerves enormously back then, today it's hip hop and that kind of music that bothers me.

As for mainstream, consumer-oriented music, I honestly don't know — I don't follow it at all, so it doesn't really concern me.


Do you have any musical role models that influence your songwriting?

I liked bands like Iron Maiden, Metallica… there were simply a few of those influences. Yes, I also listened to bands like The Beatles, The Rolling Stones and groups like that, but I think our whole generation liked those bands. They were a style that people enjoyed and that somehow shaped their development and their taste. So it's hard to say it clearly, but of course I like those bands – they were the classics, meaning all that classic music of the 1960s. The seventies and eighties as well… yes, it was always like this: whenever a band appeared that caught my attention and interested me, like Iron Maiden or Metallica at the time, those were bands that stood out from the average and spoke to me in some way. I can also say I liked Judas Priest. I liked them and I still like them to this day, but again, I don't go crazy about it.


Which musicians – friends or colleagues you have worked with – do you value the most, and why?

That's very hard to say. First of all, I won't name anyone, because I'd end up offending someone and so on. Yes, of course there were musicians who were outstanding to me and so on, but the problem is also that when I work with someone, I need us to click not only musically, but also on a human level. I've met musicians with whom we connected both personally and musically, and thank God I had the opportunity to work with them. I've worked with people of all kinds – from Štěpán Smetáček through Bob Vondrovice to Petr Janda and people like that. Yes, of course, I respect them and I was happy to work with them, and I'd be happy to work with them again sometime in the future. But I'm not able to name any specific individuals.


Besides being a singer, you're also an excellent lyricist. Where do you find inspiration for your lyrics?

In the world around me and in life itself. Which is a huge problem these days, because right now I'm being pressured to write lyrics, since I already have the music prepared and recorded for the next album. The only problem is that I take my inspiration from life around me. And in that case, I'm in trouble, because if I were to write all the lyrics right now, lightning-fast, the album would end up incredibly pissed-off. The lyrics would be really angry, bitter, because the world around me seems completely messed up. Especially here in the Czech Republic at the moment – in my opinion, the situation is such that it's really hard to find anything that excites you, influences you, or pulls you in and motivates you in a positive way.


Has it ever happened that you wrote lyrics in just a few minutes, and they turned into a hit? And on the other hand, have you ever written lyrics or a song that took a lot of effort but ended up less successful than you expected?

When it comes to lyrics, I write in a way that's like, "Okay, fine, bring it here to me," I sit down with the lyrics and start working on something. The principle is that I'm capable of sitting down and, in fifteen minutes, having an entire album's worth of lyrics ready. I write really fast, that's not a problem for me.


Writing lyrics for other musicians requires putting yourself in their shoes and writing, so to speak, "into their mouth." How does writing for yourself differ from writing for someone else?

Well, the problem is that when you write for someone else, and I know it's a singer, in order to match their phrasing and everything, it's good if you know that person personally and understand how they sing, how they approach recording, expression, and things related to the process. If you don't know that, it becomes a problem, because I might write something, and then the person finds out, "Oh, I'll only sing this if… the sun is shining, or something else," and it's very subjective and highly individual. Writing lyrics isn't simple.


Is there a concert you'll never forget?

Well, there are quite a few concerts like that, but I can't pinpoint just one from the top of my head.


Do you have a funny concert story you can share?

I'm afraid that what might be funny to me could be not funny at all for the people involved, so I'm really reluctant to share such things.


Which songs are you most proud of and enjoy playing the most?

Yes, I really like songs like Proč, but I especially love Nechte vlajky vlát, which actually came about quite by chance. It's a classic three-chord song, typical Alkehol style. When we wrote it with Hattrick, it came together incredibly quickly. Ota Hereš, Petr Kuna Buneš, and I just put it together in a pub, mostly in our heads, just strumming casually. It came together very easily—some things just fall into place on their own.


Are there songs you'd rather retire, but can't because people keep asking for them?

Yes, there are pieces that sometimes make you feel a kind of resentment. For example, when I have to sing Dívku s perlami ve vlasech, I think, "Oh, not again, really?" Petr Janda once told me the same thing about Slzy tvý mámy šedivý, saying, "You can't imagine how awful it is when I have to go on stage and sing this again; it makes me want to throw up." I told him, "Well, it's a well-known and popular song." And he replied, "Wait until you have a song you can't get rid of, no matter what." That's exactly my case today, especially with Dívku s perlami ve vlasech. I guess I'll never be able to get rid of it.


What would you say about your fans? What are they like in your opinion?

Thank God, I'd say, first – loyal, second – sensible, and third – a bit crazy. And that's a really good combination.


Do you still meet fans "from back in the day," from the '80s and '90s? Any nostalgic memories?

I usually don't go to cemeteries, so I don't meet them there.

Well, the '80s and '90s aren't that far behind us, and many people who experienced them are still around.

But when you look at them, or talk to them, you sometimes wonder if they're really still alive. Their opinions and mindset have moved somewhere else. There are plenty of people I run into who I used to see a lot back then, but with some of them, I don't talk at all anymore because our viewpoints just don't match.


Do you plan to release anything new next year?

Unfortunately, I'm not the one planning that; it's up to my management and the people around me. I know I need to release something new. Yes, I have the music for the next album fully recorded—the band has already laid it down—but I still need to write the lyrics and record the vocals. The question now is when I'll actually get around to it, because I'm incredibly lazy. Really, extremely lazy.


Do you have any message for your fans and our readers?

I wish them to stick to one basic philosophy, which I wish for everyone: "Above all, don't let anyone or anything piss you off." If you follow this, you'll see that the world will start working a lot better.

Thank you for the interview, and I hope everything goes well for you and that tonight's concert turns out great.


Finally, I'd like to thank Aleš Brichta for taking the time to give this interview despite his busy schedule, fitting it in between soundcheck and the performance. Thanks also to the entire Aleš Brichta Project, with whom I had the pleasure of spending the afternoon and part of the evening, and whom I was very happy to meet personally, as well as the other performing bands, Traffic Trouble and Turbo, for the kind meeting. Last but not least, huge thanks to manager Marek Polar for the invitation, organizing the event, and enabling this interview. I wish all participants lots of strength, energy, and inspiration for future concerts and musical projects.