The English Translation (done by Chat GPT and edited by me)
It started with this email:
Hello, friends,
I’m a North American Orthodox Christian priest who has been interested in Spanish music since I was young. Now that I’m nearly 54, the music I know best is from the ’80s through the early 2000s—especially since it’s been many years since I was last in Spain. Still, I’ve always loved everything Spanish, and today I came across you on the Maldito Digital site. To be honest, I’m most familiar with artists like Loquillo, Alaska, Los Rodríguez, Os Resentidos, Cristina y Los Subterráneos...
I wonder if you’d be open to a Zoom conversation with me about the philosophy of punk music, in a casual way. I’ve prepared a number of questions—questions I can also translate into Spanish for you. The “interview” isn’t meant for publication [editor’s note: later we discussed this, as you will see, and he gave permission to publish], but as a chance for us to ask each other questions in a spirit of mutual respect. I’m guessing you’ve never been interviewed by an American priest before—and I’d also bet you’ve never had the chance to ask a priest difficult questions in a respectful context, either.
Shall we talk?...
Fr. John
——————————————The band’s first response:
Hello, Father John,
The truth is, we’ve never been interviewed by a priest before. This would be the first time!
We don’t mind answering your questions, but we’d prefer to do it in writing, by email.
Send us a questionnaire, and we’ll send back our answers.
Thank you very much for your interest.
Best regards.
———————————After sending “El Indio” the questions, here are his answers (his responses inside my questions):
These days there are many ways people describe their religious or spiritual beliefs. How would you describe yourself? Did you have a religious upbringing? What or who do you believe in now?
Hello, Mr. Parker. I’m “El Indio,” guitarist, singer, and founder of the Spanish rock band Homo No Sapiens. It’s a real pleasure to hear from you. I must admit this is the first time we’ve been contacted by a priest, but I’m glad to have this dialogue with you.
In addition to being a musician, I have a degree in Biology. As a child in school, we were all taught Christian religion. As I grew older, I became interested in philosophical questions (the origin of life, the universe, and so on). The answers religion gave me felt too simple and unconvincing. Because of my scientific background, I would describe myself as an atheist. I still have many unanswered questions, but science gives me explanations that feel more credible than those religion offered.
What’s the most spiritual song you’ve written or produced? Why would you call it spiritual?
Most of our songs deal with social criticism, injustice, intolerance, abuses of power, care for nature, and self-esteem. None could be called purely “spiritual,” but all of them reflect our way of seeing the world. Even the name of our band says a lot about our perspective.
We don’t understand people who put money above human life or the environment. We don’t understand those who can’t respect people different from themselves—racists, homophobes, abusers of power, intolerant people. We don’t understand how a species that calls itself “intelligent” can destroy its own planet or be indifferent to decisions that cost innocent lives.
I play guitar and a bit of mandolin—but I’m very far from being a musician. (Sometimes I joke to my wife, “I’m a punk without a band.”). It seems to me that many great musicians and artists write from a place of deep loss, pain, or crisis. If that’s true, and if you’re open to it, where do you draw the water for your music?
Ideas come from things that touch the soul. Some are personal experiences, others are stories from friends, news that makes you angry, or things that move you. Writing songs is our way of venting—it’s our therapy. We complain, we criticize what we don’t like, but we don’t preach or tell people what’s right or wrong. We like to write lyrics that make people think, but we don’t give solutions. Everyone should interpret them in their own way.
If you had to describe yourself in three adjectives, what would they be, and why?
“Kind,” because I try to be a good person, empathetic, treating people as I’d like to be treated. I’m a supportive friend and stand with those who need it most.
“Persistent,” because when I believe in something, I fight for it. Even if I haven’t achieved every goal, I keep going as long as I believe it’s possible.
“Optimistic,” because I always try to see the positive side of things.
In my faith community we talk about love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control. Which of these resonates most with you, and why?
Honestly, a little bit of all of them, haha. I think I already answered that with the last question.
I’m 54 now, and there are many things I wish I hadn’t done. But without the good, the bad, and the ugly, I wouldn’t be who I am today. I’m grateful for forgiveness. Without speaking specifically of repentance, what would you tell your younger self if you could sit with him today?
As you said, if I hadn’t done the things I did when I was young, I wouldn’t be who I am now. Mistakes are necessary for learning. I’m still alive, so all the crazy things I did had a happy ending!
The truth is, I did plenty of stupid things and I’m lucky to still be alive. I can’t really advise my younger self, because I know how that story ends. But I do give advice to my daughter so she avoids the same mistakes. She’s still a teenager, so I repeat two phrases to her often: “Don’t do to anyone what you wouldn’t like done to you,” and “Leave places the way you’d like to find them.”
Could you share a personal story from your tours—not something private, but something human? Many imagine it’s all glamour and fame. But we recently saw the tragic story of Liam Payne from One Direction. What’s the inescapably human side of life on tour—loneliness, repetition, isolation?
We’re not at the level of bands that tour internationally. We’re not away from home for weeks at a time. We don’t play more than 3 or 4 nights in a row, so we don’t lose our heads or get too homesick. Fortunately, we can organize ourselves like that—we don’t need or want to push harder.
We always say: to share positive energy on stage, the first thing is to enjoy it yourself. If you go on stage only for the money and you don’t enjoy it, you’ll never make the audience enjoy it either. There has to be real feedback. You enjoy yourself, the audience enjoys themselves, you see that they’re enjoying it, and it becomes a cycle.
A friend of mine showed me a site called “4K Weeks.” The idea is that the average person lives about 76 years—roughly 4,000 weeks. The site sells a poster with 4,000 little boxes you fill in week by week. I found it a powerful reminder of the inevitable. I’ve lived about 2,840 weeks—meaning I’ve only got about 29% left. That makes me think about two things: what will my legacy be, and what’s the meaning of life? What do you hope your legacy will be? And what’s the meaning of this life—not “life in general,” but this one, as opposed to a next one?
I honestly don’t know if life has a “meaning” or if we’re just here by chance. If my father hadn’t emigrated, he never would have met my mother, and my brother and I wouldn’t exist. If my wife hadn’t gone to that concert, we never would have met, and my daughter wouldn’t exist.
For me, what matters is being remembered with a smile. If people think of you and smile, it means you did something right. I’m lucky to be a father, and I think that’s the greatest legacy anyone can leave: a life. On top of that, I’ve recorded a lot of albums, and those songs will always be around.
As for the meaning of life, as I said before, I’m an atheist. I believe in physics, chemistry, biology, and math. I don’t think there’s another life beyond this one. So my approach is: enjoy every moment, respect others, and leave things the way you’d like to find them.
Why do you think so many famous artists and musicians don’t believe in God?
I don’t agree with that statement. There are many musicians who are believers. I’m not one of them, but I don’t think there are fewer believers among musicians than in any other group.
What’s the most tragic part of human existence, in your view?
On a personal level, the most tragic thing is losing loved ones. Luckily, my immediate family are all still alive, and I hope for many more years. But I know that won’t last forever, and it will be hard when the time comes.
On a collective level, humans are just another animal species. We should be more respectful of our planet and of the other species we share it with. Tragically, Homo sapiens has a huge capacity to destroy its habitat, its fellow beings, and other species. We call ourselves intelligent, but judging by our behavior, “intelligent” might not be the best word.
What’s the most virtuous quality of humanity today? Why?
Solidarity, without question. It’s amazing how often those with the least are the most generous. It gives me comfort to see there are still so many good people. I like to believe that there are far more good people than bad.
What’s the most repulsive thing you’ve ever seen, and why?
War. I can’t stand violence. I don’t understand how wars can still exist in the 21st century, or how human beings can murder children or let them starve.
And what’s the most beautiful or profound thing you’ve ever witnessed? Why?
Solidarity again. Even in the worst wars or the hardest situations, there are always people willing to help—even risking their own lives.
What part of your life brings you the deepest joy—not just happiness, but joy?
Fatherhood, and the moments I share with friends and loved ones.
Where do you see—though maybe you wouldn’t call it this—the hand of God in your work?
I don’t really know what to say to that. Sorry.
If Jesus were real and listening right now, what one or two questions would you ask Him, and why?
How did it all begin? And is there life on other planets?
If we switched roles—if you were me, the priest, and I were you, the rock musician—what would you ask me?
I wouldn’t change a single question you’ve asked me. You’ve made me reflect on important things, and it’s been a real pleasure.
Thank you very much!
————————-
Email from Fr. John to El Indio
Incredible!
Thank you so much for taking the time to answer so honestly and clearly. You’ve written me a real treasure.
Of course, now I’m left with even more questions—so here are a few:
First, would you share your name with me?
Last night I was thinking a lot about creating a website to store interviews like this. It wasn’t something I’d planned, but what do you think? Would you allow me?
At the start of your last message, you used the word “dialogue.” Would it be okay if we kept the dialogue going?
Can we use tú with each other?
Greetings from the U.S. on our birthday…
I’ve been exploring your website, listening and reading. Many of the links are broken, and I haven’t found a way to buy downloads. Is it possible?
I’m adding a video of me playing “Mr. Moto”—a surf guitar classic.
All the best, and I look forward to continuing!
Fr. John Parker
——————————————Reply from El Indio
Hello again, Fr. Parker,
Thanks for the video—now I can put a face to the name. From the outfit, it was easy to spot which of the two guitarists was the priest! I would’ve made a great detective, haha.
My real name is Ángel, though because of my dark skin and long hair, everyone calls me “El Indio.”
This interview is very different from the ones we’re used to. Normally they focus more on the artistic side—tours, albums, that sort of thing. That’s why I wanted to answer again: you’ve made a very good impression, and I enjoy this more spiritual and philosophical angle. I’m getting older too!
I have no problem with you publishing our conversations. If you do, I’d appreciate it if you’d send me the link to where you’ll be posting them. I’d love to read the other interviews—it could be very enriching.
I also don’t mind using tú. But here in Spain, with priests we always put “don” before their name. The first priest I remember was “Don José.” To me, that was his full name, since nobody called him just José. The same with others I’ve known. But from now on, I’ll call you John.
Our website badly needs updating—we planned to redo it when the new album comes out. Honestly, young people don’t usually check official band websites anymore; they mostly use TikTok or Instagram. Even Facebook is old-fashioned now. Our site is so outdated it only looks good on a computer, and everyone uses their phones.
As for the music, people usually listen through streaming platforms like Spotify, Apple Music, or YouTube. Fewer and fewer physical albums are sold.
We’re finishing the new record now—we’ve got seven songs, and the label wants at least eight. So I imagine we’ll record it this year and release it in 2026, which will mark our 25th anniversary. That’ll also be the right time to revamp the website.
Here are some links where you can listen and watch us (most lyrics are in Spanish, though some parts are in Catalan or English): [links].
————————————Reply from Fr. John
Ángel—
I’m glad to keep corresponding with you. A grammar question, maybe connected to our faith: for us, using tú still often includes “Don” or “Father” with the name (John, José, etc.), so in a way it’s both formal and informal at once. But for me it’s more important to get to know you by letter than what you call me. Whatever you prefer!
(Also, I don’t quite know how to use the Spanish keyboard on my MacBook, so the accents often don’t come out right.)
Thanks for the links—I’ll check them out. Is there a way to download the albums or some songs to listen on my phone? I’m a bit of a dinosaur—I don’t pay for Apple Music or anything like that—so I’d only be able to hear you directly.
I’m still very grateful to you for writing me. I have even more questions, if you’ve got the time and interest. But I also didn’t explain myself well at first: maybe you also have some questions for me? It’s not necessary, but I’m here. I’ve noticed that many of us had questions about Christianity as children, and the answers didn’t satisfy us—but as adults we rarely had the chance to revisit them. Sometimes life just rolls on without the opportunity to investigate. And sometimes the questions themselves aren’t quite right. For example: if someone asked me, “Have you stopped beating your wife?”—how could I answer, since I’ve never beaten her? If I say “yes,” I’m admitting I once did. If I say “no,” it sounds like I still do. Some questions, at least for us Orthodox, need to be re-framed to get to the truth.
How did you get the name Ángel? You said your father emigrated—where from? With your biology degree, do you still teach, or is music your main living? I also find it interesting you’re from Alicante. I had a friend from Valencia back in high school, though I only ever saw her in Madrid.
If you’re interested, I could share some stories from my youth. For example: when I was 17, I told my parents I was going to move to Spain, give up my U.S. passport, and become Spanish…
Another question: how did you come up with the name Homo No Sapiens? Does it connect somehow to the idea of “inhuman”? We could talk about the differences between “inhumane” and “Homo No Sapiens,” don’t you think?
I’m also looking for a name for the website. If I get it up and running, I’ll share it with you. Right now I’m also in touch with a very talented friend, Lacey, the singer and founder of Flyleaf, about doing more interviews. On August 1 I’ll meet the band Skillet. In September, I’ve got tickets to the Sex Pistols in Philadelphia—[….]. Not sure if you know much early hip-hop, but I’ve met Henry, producer of the Sugarhill Gang (their song Rapper’s Delight is often called the first rap song ever, 1979). I hope to interview them too.
Many thanks again—write when you can.
Your friend in the U.S.,
Fr. John
————————————-Reply from Ángel
Hello, Father John,
In Spain, tutear means calling someone by their given name (the name chosen by your parents at baptism in the pila bautismal, the font). Even if you’re not baptized, it means addressing people by name only—without “Don” or “Señor.” The idea is to avoid any social class or status differences.
The YouTube and Spotify links are free—you don’t need to pay a subscription, but you will get ads. Only those who don’t want ads pay.
I’d never thought about asking a priest questions, because I like to respect whatever decisions people make about their lives—as long as they respect others. But since you’ve offered, and if it’s not uncomfortable for you, I do have a few:
On questions like the origin of life, evolution, or natural selection—how does religion fit with science? Doesn’t it create contradictions?
On social issues (and here I mean all religions, not just Christianity, but also Islam, Protestantism, etc.)—how can wars be justified in the name of religion? Aren’t we all supposed to be children of God (whichever God that may be), and love and respect one another as brothers?
A more personal question: for Orthodox it may be easier since they don’t have to give up marriage and children, but—how does someone decide to dedicate their life to religion?
I hope these questions don’t make you uncomfortable, and of course you don’t have to answer them if you don’t want to.
As for my name: I’m Ángel because both my father and grandfather were named that. Back then, it was common for sons to be named after their fathers, and daughters after their mothers. Not so much now.
My father (with my grandparents and uncles) emigrated from Andalusia—from a small town in Jaén province—to Alicante, in search of a better future. They were farmers, but a terrible drought hit. Plus it was the post-war period, right after the Spanish Civil War, and there were more opportunities for work along the coast.
About the band’s name: it’s a critique of “inhuman” behavior. It doesn’t seem very sapiens to destroy your own planet, to ignore climate change because the economy matters more than droughts, floods, or species extinction. It’s not very human to let children and innocents die in wars they didn’t cause. And the list goes on. So we felt we shouldn’t call ourselves “Homo Sapiens,” but more honestly Homo No Sapiens.
I hope your website is ready soon. I love the idea of interviewing different musicians and artists about personal and not just artistic themes. I’m sure it will be interesting—because if someone has an artistic need, it means they’re very sensitive. Art is a way of expressing feelings that need to be shared.
Looking forward to reading you again.
A hug,
Ángel
And again, I reply to Ángel
Hello Ángel—sorry for the delay in getting back to you.
I’ll try to answer as honestly and clearly as I can.
(Quick question: how would you describe the way I’m writing to you—using “tú” but adding your title and first name? It’s curious because in my tradition that’s actually normal. But call me however you like!)
Origins:
Even though many Christians take the Bible (especially Genesis) literally, Orthodox Christians don’t—and we certainly don’t interpret it as a scientific account of origins. It would be easier to explain this in detail one day over Zoom or the phone, but in short: the opening chapters are meant to tell us who the Lord of the universe is, how He created everything, and what order it all has.
The debate between science and faith really begins with Copernicus, and sadly the Roman Church didn’t accept his observations. That rejection created a division that still lingers today.
At the same time, we all need to recognize that there’s no such thing as “pure” science—everyone brings their own bias. Likewise, science isn’t the tool for seeing God (whom no one has ever seen), and faith isn’t the tool for describing how, say, the human brain or body works.
In truth, science grows out of faith. Both are trying to seek the truth.
But Christians don’t begin with Genesis, or with science. We begin with a conviction about Jesus—whom we confess as God and man. And to connect with your band’s name: He is the only true Homo sapiens, the fully human one. We can always talk more about that if you’d like.
We also have to remember: all explanations of the world’s origins are, from a scientific standpoint, still theories and proposals—not final facts. That’s why we (as Orthodox Christians) try to keep a posture of deep humility before everything.
War:
Unfortunately, from our point of view, we live in a fallen world—what we read in Genesis chapter 3. In chapters 1 and 2, we see paradise. In chapter 3, humanity no longer trusts God but trusts itself. That’s the beginning of selfishness.
And sadly, since chapter 4—when Cain killed his brother Abel—the only thing that’s really changed is the level of technology we use. We still kill, whether in wars or in how we mistreat our neighbor: by refusing to help, or even just by insulting them. The reason behind it all is fear of death. That’s the universal root.
Jesus came to conquer death, and to begin showing us what it really means to be human. The saints—few as they are—are those who have listened to Him and lived His message.
The Church hasn’t always helped—yes, Christians have started wars. But war is human, not Christian. It comes from fallen humanity, not from the Gospel. It’s a misinterpretation of the Gospel.
(And of course, I could speak at length about other religions too. At the very least we can say Islam defines itself as a religion of war, believing in a God who is not merciful, and not teaching that we must love one another. That belief is unique to Christianity. The history of Muslim Spain from 711 to 1492 says a lot.
That said, we Christians also bear great guilt. We are sinners too, and often self-justifying. What Russia is doing now is a grave sin.)
Dedication to faith:
Did you mean specifically how one becomes a priest—or how one chooses to live a life rooted in faith? I’d be glad if you could clarify.
Thank you for your questions, and for sharing something of your family and your own beliefs with me. I’d be happy to answer anything you’d like to ask—so keep them coming if you want.
Just this past week I interviewed the members of the Sugarhill Gang—over the phone, recorded.
[…]
If you think there are other Spanish groups who might be open to this kind of conversation, I’d really appreciate your help in reaching them.
Until next time—many thanks again.
(I just spent a few days in Arizona with our archbishop of Mexico and some Mexican priest friends. I’m also glad to keep practicing my Spanish.)
One day, I hope to come see you live in concert—and to meet you in person.
Your friend in the U.S.,
Fr. John
