P.I.N.A.

The P.I.N.A. project wasn't born in a high-end commercial studio or under pressure from a major label. It came from a pure need to express myself as a musician and music journalist—to get together with old friends from the Madrid scene and tackle more personal songs. We were no longer just chasing the heavy riffs of traditional metal or the high-pitched vocals of the old school; I wanted to experiment with a raw, direct sound bordering on singer-songwriter hard rock, urban grit, and lyrics packed with the social commentary that has always defined me, both on stage and behind the radio mic.

We locked ourselves in to lay down demos without rushing, experimenting with stripped-back guitar textures and looser song structures. Some tracks captured that untamed spirit of Madrid’s La Movida era and neighborhood street metal, but with the maturity of someone who has toured every dive bar in the country and understands how tough it is to keep independent music alive. The tracks born out of those sessions reflected disillusionment, life on the road, freedom, and above all, an unconditional love for rock 'n' roll—free from label categories or passing trends.

Ultimately, this solo project was my outlet and proof that no matter what happens, the spirit of rock and metal never retires. To me, P.I.N.A. is simply Carlos Pina in his purest form: unfiltered, with a voice weathered by a thousand battles, and with the exact same hunger to make noise as the first day I stepped on stage with Panzer.

P.I.N.A. (Hungarian Punk Project)

The idea of the phantom band P.I.N.A. (Punk, Iszunk, Narkózunk, Anarchia – Punk, Drinking, Drugging, Anarchy) was born in '92. At the time, I was playing drums in a band called HVG and guitar in another called Shit Thing. With HVG, we felt ready to record a demo, so we booked time at a "studio"—which basically meant that a heavy metal band from Miskolc set up their PA system in a basement to record to tape. If I remember correctly, this was around February '92. We practiced once a week, and the day before recording, we had a quick refresher session. We played through our set, and after rehearsal, HVG's guitarist, Taki, sat at the drums while I picked up his guitar just to goof off. We were chatting about an article I’d read claiming Johnny Rotten was skiing in San Marino while sitting home drinking beer, and another about a groupie making a plaster cast of Jimi Hendrix, stuff like that.

Then we started messing around with the instruments. I told Taki, "Let's make a destroy punk band." I started crankin' on the guitar, Taki laid down a beat, and I started screaming things like "Jimi Hendrix is a fag" and "Johnny Rotten is a fake punk." We had a good laugh, went home, and completely forgot about it.

The next day, the bassist Lapát and I braced ourselves: we bought a 70cl bottle of vodka and a few beers between us (Taki wasn't drinking at the time). We took an early morning bus to Miskolc through the morning fog. We set up the gear, recorded the 8–10 songs we had planned for HVG, and ended up with two hours of leftover studio time. By then, the booze was gone, but the host returned from work and insisted we taste his wine. He brought two liters, and once again, it was just the two of us drinking. We chugged those two liters in 15 minutes, kept chatting, and somehow ended up with Taki back on drums and me sitting on a Marshall amp. Yesterday’s "destroy band" came up, so we showed the host what we had done. Naturally, we laughed, and then someone had the bright idea: "Let's record it."

Since we still had time, I told Taki to hit a straight 4/4 mid-tempo beat. I showed Lapát the basic riff and the chorus structure: play everything twice, a solo, then back to the verse and chorus, and done. We hit record, and just like that, we played those "songs" for the first and last time. They were born and died right then and there. I never thought anything would come of it. "Louie Louie" is the foundation of everyone's life in rock 'n' roll.

Back then, noise bands had a huge impact on me. There was a fantastic band from California called Heroin, and back in the fanzine days, someone—probably Kutyás from Miskolc—gave me a cassette of All About Heroin. You can easily group that among timeless albums like anything by the Dead Kennedys; whether it's 1990 or 2010, it hits hard. That was probably my biggest influence at the time, at least judging by how I scream on that recording.

That's pretty much the story of the "band"—the rest was just my own experimentation. We made another recording around '94 that was meant to be mid-tempo street-warrior punk, featuring tracks like "Szétlövöm az agyam" (I'll Shoot My Brain Out) and "Jézus szeret" (Jesus Loves You). A year later, I tried going back to the roots by mixing in Stooges influences, but it turned out so bad that no one ever heard it—I don't think I even have the master tape anymore. It seems whoever distributed these tracks just dubbed both demos onto a cassette back-to-back, even though they were two separate recordings made two years apart. For the first demo, Taki made a cassette cover and a comic strip; I'll dig it up this summer, scan it, and post it here.