I always knew I would end up in Spain. Growing up without television in the woods of British Columbia, Canada, I’d entertain myself by playing songs on the ukelele. And I would end every song with a flamenco cadence, shouting ‘olé!’ That was the first sign. When I arrived in Málaga, on Spain's South Mediterranean coast in 2001, I knew I was home. Between tours, I’d return to write and absorb the rhythms of the land. Fascinated by the rich history, mesmerized by the waves of the Mediterranean sea that lulled me to dream at night, and ignited by the sounds of flamenco seeping out of the patios of my little seaside neighbourhood of Pedregalejo, melodies appeared. The songs came quickly, while peeling artichokes, eating fresh olives, and while running on the beach. Undistracted by my life on the road as a touring musician, and often without phone or internet, I spent my days with pen, paper, and a $40. guitar. Later a local primary school let me use their piano, and I had another tool to absorb the flood of musical ideas. I maintained that yearly retreat until 2011, when I went to Barcelona to record ‘Para Ti’, an album of some of those songs I’d written. After touring with that project for a few years, I returned to Malaga. Within the first week of arriving, I met who was to become a great musical ally: producer and bassist Juan Soto. He invited me to his studio, where he, percussionist Juan Heredia and I jammed out a tune I wrote based on a flamenco ‘buleria’. The chemistry was instant. As it turned out, my old friend/ flautist/ saxophonist Manuel Olmo was a buddy of theirs, and the band started to take form. I called guitarist Luis Robisco, who I’d recorded and toured with for the past several years, to come out from Barcelona to record with us, and the sound really came together. Trumpeter/ pianist Victor Vallejo added some tracks, along with trombonist José Luis Arias and vocalist Juan Antonio Molina. Another very special guest is my old friend and colleague from Amsterdam, with whom I recorded ‘Me Quedo’ in 2008: pianist Jean Louis Van Dam. The greatest joy for me in this recording has been the collaborative process with friends and colleagues. ‘Sin prisa, sin pausa’… it’s taken its own time and course, just like a typical day here in Spain, where for all the plans you may make, life leads you around unexpected corners. The idea is to ride the wave… enjoy the phrase, devour the moments, and notice the magic that catches you off guard. I’m incredibly grateful to the musicians who have so generously shared their talents on this recording, and especially to my co-producer Juan Soto, whose countless hours behind the soundboard brought the sound of ’Sangria Jam’ to life.