Recycled J: "I love Madrid and I wear it wherever I go, but I'm more of a Carabanchel native than a Madrilenian or a Spaniard."

Jorge Escorial is a kid from Madrid, from Carabanchel, from 93. Son of a humble family, he was lucky enough to be able to dedicate himself to what he loves most, which is music. And, above all, although he doesn't say it himself, Jorge is the kid on whom Recycled J is based. The one who, out of pure impulse, started a musical project that was a hobby and that, in barely a decade, has turned him into one of the renovators of Spanish urban music. Because nobody understood that someone who had grown up in rap battles in the capital's parks would want to bring sung pop, R&B and electronica to the genre. That someone without visible tattoos, with the look and manners of an exemplary student, would call himself a rapper. But people started listening to him and they had to follow him.

And now here's Jorge—or Recycled J—presenting an album, San Jorge , which is both a testament and a cry lasting an hour and a half. The double album of a lifetime. The album of the kid who one day made music his profession, and also the album of the one who unexpectedly lost his father less than a year ago . The album of the one who, thanks to the income from a fruit stand in the San Isidro market, grew up in Carabanchel, started his teaching studies, and now wants a child to compensate for his loss. The one who, after vomiting out an emotional and identity-based manifesto, is planning to make a stop along the way. "San Jorge is the most powerful album I've ever made, in scale and in everything else. My first album, Oro rosa, begins by saying that this is a path with no shortcuts. And that's happened in seven years."

What made you decide to take a path without shortcuts?

The fact that this has been difficult makes me savor success in a different way. Getting things done easily comes at a price. I'm proud of all the setbacks I've had. That price can be giving up on your essence, letting yourself be carried away by the mainstream, by social media, by whatever the public wants. On the path of an artist, there are many demons that lead you toward easy success, which, in the end, is the most tangible. I'm proud of having avoided them.

Is that why in the intro you sing 'Kings of the underground, we were nobodies. From Carabanchel to the red carpet'?

I'm really proud of that; it's the best part. It's not like I've ever been a poor soul, but coming from there makes you savor things differently, gaining a perspective from when we didn't know what the world was and anything seemed like the best. Selling out venues outside of Madrid, which is my home and temple, playing in other countries abroad, getting on the radio... I come from rap, when it was a more sectarian thing. I was the first to open up more to pop; I tried singing, but I hadn't found my footing yet, and the industry wouldn't let me. Now, when a kid uploads a video to TikTok or Instagram, it goes viral, and there's an industry eager to get a piece of that candy.

What's positive and what's negative about that?

The positive side of the journey is the learning, the experience, the experience. The negative side, I'll compare it to information overload: anyone who fancies themselves a journalist is filled with fake news. Now, anyone is a singer or artist. Before, every letter of those words had a weight. The values in music have changed; now, it's all about exposure. As kids, we wanted to be soccer players or astronauts; now, they want to be famous. I know what I've been like. I know I've been tripped up 20,000 times, and I don't do that to the kids coming out.

Have you felt excluded from urban music in your early days?

I don't feel excluded because I earned my place. No one understood what I was doing, but musical marginalization gives you drive and the desire to prove yourself. In the moments when I've been most depressed, trying to find my way, I didn't let myself be guided by what people would say. In those moments, I discovered who I am. At first, since I wasn't such a badass or looking to do more vocal things, they treated me like I was Yoko Ono from Children of Ruin. I came to destroy them and take away their sound. And over time, it's proven that with that, Natos, Waor, and I reached the top in a different way. The same thing happened to me with Autotune, which was heavily criminalized. They said it wasn't rap, and now everyone uses it.

Beyond that, what pierces San Jorge like a dagger is death. First, that of his grandmothers. And then that of his father, Jero, which put the project on hold and forced the album to be delayed. Now it's become a transition from grief. "I could have dedicated a song to my father 10 years from now, but the time was now . Losing him was a bitch, but it gave me a lot of strength because it's something I share with him ." His grandfather, also a fruit seller, died a year after he retired. His father didn't make it that far. "He spent two years working flat out, without vacations, because that's how he was. And when he stops smoking, drinking, goes out walking every day, loses 40 kilos, he goes to the grave."

Has your view of death changed after this year?

Of course. I always try to channel both the good and the bad into my work and my music. It's hard to make something as ugly as the Western conception of death beautiful. My father always said that the one who loses is the one who leaves. Because the rest of us are still here. We all have a father, a mother, a brother... and I think it's beautiful for anyone who's been through something like that to see how the rest of us feel.

This album also clearly expresses a love song to Madrid and its neighborhood. Carabanchel is one of the neighborhoods that has changed a lot over the years with gentrification. What is your relationship with both of them?

I love Madrid. I love it and I wear it everywhere, but I've started to have a toxic relationship with it when I travel abroad. Although it inspires me immensely, I couldn't have made this album apart from my reality. I had to live it, touch down, be where my grandparents grew up. I'll also tell you that I'm more from Carabanchel than from Madrid or Spain. Sometimes I think I wear it too much, but I like to think about the school I went to, the friends I had, where the money came from to feed us. Like a good rapper, I wear the hood inside all the time.

There's a line in "Sincero" that has set fans on fire: "Four albums in three years is excessive / So after St. George's Day I'm retiring / I want time for my family and a couple of kids with Ana." Have you thought about quitting music? About leaving now?

I've felt lost at times during the process. My close team, Ana and Ale, sat down with me when I made Casanova and told me they saw me as lost. And that gave me perspective. The more lost I've been, the more those people have helped me find myself. When everything happened with my old man, I didn't really know what to do, and that gave me little numbing pills to keep me going. So I've been lost, but not dead. Recycled J isn't dead either because I'm still giving concerts, but when I wrote that, I was in that introspective moment. If I haven't really given up at some point, it's because I feel like the mission I was meant to fulfill hadn't been accomplished. I hadn't found anyone to hold hands with and say, "Let's go."

Didn't you leave because you don't see a replacement?

I'm going to stop because after four albums in four years, I think it's pretty good. Next year we have Hijos de la Ruin, but that's a different story. It's also true that people jump to conclusions from a single line... I'm not going to set a date, but San Jorge is a before and after in my career, without a doubt. And I think we can leave it there.

What you're going to do is take a creative break?

I want to enjoy myself because this is an album I made through pain and success, which I haven't enjoyed. You get caught up in a cycle of concerts and cities where you don't even know where you are, and in the end, you end up trapped in it. Now I want all the money I spend not to go on making another music video, and I want all the money I earn not to go to other super-concerts where we spend everything to make them spectacular. I need to catch my breath.

And is being a father part of that break?

Yes, I'd like to, although we're not active on that right now. But I would like to. When one life passed away, I thought about bringing another into the world. I feel like my father has passed away, and I'd like to have a child because I've always loved children. That's why I studied Early Childhood Education. I'm very caring, very hands-on, and very patriarchal. But when the time comes, I'll give you the exclusive.

Does working in a job that requires you to be away from home so much, so demanding, make things difficult for you?

I'm very proud of my father, even though he wasn't very present during my childhood because he was working all day. He gave me the best he had. There's a lot of him in my work ethic, in my perseverance, in my self-improvement. I would have liked to have a child during the pandemic to enjoy, but we don't synchronize our watches. And of course, with my profession and that of my partner [as a model and stylist], it's difficult to raise and educate a child with the values we would like. When it comes, it will come.