Thirty-three years ago, two boys in elementary school started a band. There'd still be nothing so special about that. But, unlike other similar groups, they never stopped playing and took it big. Back then, they were only known in their hometown of Prague's Hanspaulka, but today they are one of the most critically acclaimed and fan-loved bands. The joy of music has lasted until now. Their concerts are like a burst of energy, their songs keep your feet moving and their lyrics keep your head busy. They call themselves Tata Bojs and one of the two guys is Marek Huňát called Mardoša, a musician with the most obsessive foot on the Czech music scene. How does he collect music, why didn't he let the parish priest arrange it and what is his relationship with tartan? 

Last autumn you released your tenth anniversary album One Zero and this February you played a concert in Prague's DOX with a christening. What were the feelings that accompanied the online concert? 

Feelings were mixed, although fortunately the positive ones prevailed in the end. A concert without an audience can simply never be a real concert. But on the other hand, we tried our best. We decided to do it "if it's already, it's already". So we rehearsed the whole new album - which we last did in 2004 with Nanoalbum - and we didn't skimp on the set, the stage, the guests. In short, we wanted to bring the audience in front of the screen a full Tata Bojs concert as much as possible. We were also a little nervous until the last minute about being financially at a loss, because we really didn't skimp on anything. Luckily the fans didn't let us down, so we didn't end up in debt.  

It's hard to plan live shows right now, do you have any projects lined up for this year both in and out of the band?  

I have a "full calendar" from June until autumn. But at the moment we know that it may not mean anything. It would be great if it meant something after all. We have a couple of small solo shows planned for the summer, and a tour should be happening in the fall sometime these days. I've got some DJing booked in there here and there.  

You're sparing with words in the lyrics, but there's so much more meaning, double entendres, jokes and surprising points. A lot of them are signed by you. Do the words always come to mind in English, or is it perhaps more obvious at some stage in the creative process that they would sound better in English - or vice versa? 

When I was learning English, I sometimes had dreams in English. But either I used my limited vocabulary or they were subtitled; either way, I understood them. But that was rare. Mostly I dream, wake and create in English. On the other hand, I like English, I'm naturally surrounded by it, so every now and then an idea comes out in English and it comes out more naturally. On our last album, for example, it's the case of Kraftwerk's In Saint Tropez. I don't think it would work so well in Czech.  

There was a video for this song interspersed with authentic footage from a trip to France, was that some kind of historical trip?  

For us it's absolutely essential! In 2001, without knowing how to drive at the time, I bought my dream car, a Citroën 2CV called Kachna. And it was clear that our first big trip had to be to the gendarmerie station in Saint-Tropez! And on August 21, 2002, me and Bárka, Bublajs and Klárka and Matěj and Dulka really made it there! An unforgettable trip, although I almost forgot the video we shot there. I rediscovered it only during the spring lockdown. Like finding...  

You're a musician and an avid music fan and CD collector. What is it about music that attracts you? 

Of all the art forms, it probably gives me the most joy. I am fascinated by its elusiveness. Maybe that's why I'm such an avid collector of CDs and EPs. Because I know I can't really - that I never really "have" the music anyway. You can't catch it. As my favourite David Byrne says, it's a "slippery beast".  

And do you have days without music? Do you like silence?  

John Cage, in his experiments, sought it out and concluded that there is no such thing as absolute silence. To that end, he also locked himself in a soundproof chamber, but found that even there he could hear something - his heartbeat and his breathing. And as the avant-gardists argued a hundred years ago, every sound can be music. So in that sense, we are all surrounded by music all the time... But I took that too broadly, I understand that the question was meant normally. I'm not a person who plays music all the time. I prefer to be able to put it on and at least concentrate on it a little. Ideally completely. The omnipresent musical smog is rather annoying.  

You're known for your love of tireless photography, especially of fans at concerts. What happens to those photos next? 

I take pictures (since 2003 - unfortunately - only digitally), I archive them and that's often the end of it. I am behind in sorting and describing my own photo archive. I am now somewhere near November 2015. I should probably get on with it! On the other hand, a lot of the photos get more interesting after some time has passed. And on a number of occasions, though, the depths of my archives have opened up and given interesting testimonies! It came in handy, for example, when we were working on the voluminous Tatalog publication, which summarizes the first thirty years of our band.  

Do you also photograph other objects?  

My biggest photo circles are concerts/DJing and family. Of course, family photography has been predominant in the last year. But otherwise I enjoy taking pictures of whatever catches my eye, like interesting number combinations on the odometer, soda cans, etc. It's not so special these days, but of course I started this approach back in the deep analogue days! My way of "carpet photography" was a bit of a money grab, but sometimes it made for interesting images...  

One of the songs on the new album is called 220 Travoltas. It beautifully captures the dancing energy you're constantly exuding during gigs or behind the DJ desk. Where have you been going all this time?  

It's the music! I'm not hyperactive myself. Actually, I'm not even active. On the contrary, I'm a little slow. But the music starts doing it to me and doesn't even ask if I'm into dancing or not. At the end, it releases me and I go back to my usual snail pace and energy. I don't know what it is. 

How did you get into playing songs in the first place?

In 2000, together with my fellow Delta club member Matej Bartosek (also a member of the Saint-Tropez expedition and editor of our Tatalog), I founded the DJ duo Alfa and Omega. We played songs from two discman and used an old four-track instead of a mixing desk. We premiered at the festival in Boskovice. After that we played mainly at Delta, after concerts of friendly bands. Around 2006 Matěj stopped DJing a bit and I got lonely behind the decks.

As a DJ, you must have been to a lot of weddings and parties. Is there something that sticks in your mind, a wedding story "from the set"?

I don't remember any extreme curiosity. But I do know how nervous I was when I found out that at one wedding they wanted me to play music not only for the closing party, but also for the cake cutting, the first dance and even the ceremony itself! And of course it was specific, pre-selected songs. In the end, it worked out pretty well, but I worked up a sweat. Especially when I thought the ceremony was over, I put on the ceremony song and then my friends pointed out that the pastor had something else to say.

Do you have a genre specialty or favorite period?

I consider myself to be pretty unrestricted by genre, but I've found that to be very relative. What seems to me to be a fairly wide spread of "quality dance songs" from the sixties or even the fifties to the present is to another a negligible slice of uninteresting music. But that's probably natural. Anyway, I have a lot of musical favorites from all these periods and I can't name one and one. I don't care.

What are your assignments, or how much do you try to comply? Or do you refuse when the wedding party/customer requests music you don't like?

I actually try not to play much music at weddings in general. With the exception of friends' and acquaintances' weddings. If a stranger comes up to me, I generally try to warn them off me. Or see if he/she has ever heard me play, if he/she really likes what I'm playing. It's not that I'm some uncompromising DJ-artist who doesn't want to fulfill someone's wishes (on the contrary, when I make a deal with someone, I'm happy if they let me know beforehand if they have a crucial song or something like that), but it's about not having someone breathing down my neck all the time and telling me what to play now. Especially if it's supposed to be songs I'm not into. Then that's unnecessary torture for the wedding party and for me. Fortunately, though, that hasn't happened to me lately, I refer couples who want a versatile DJ to someone else and I only play at weddings of people who have usually already been to one of my "didjins" as a bachelor. This often turns into great events that I remember for a long time. Maybe even longer than the newlyweds.

Have you played at your own wedding?

I didn't. Mathew did. But I danced it off!

The DJ is expected to get the company dancing and rocking. Do you have any tricks or hits that always work?

At private events, it's always different people, different tastes, different regions and different mores. So there are no complete certainties, although a few hits work almost everywhere. But mostly I think I could hardly entertain anyone with music that wouldn't entertain me. So I play what I like, enjoy the music, and hope that others will eventually join in my merriment.

You don't drink or smoke, you only dope yourself with chocolate. How many times a night do you have to turn down an invitation for a drink?

Come to think of it, there aren't that many drink offers. And if I do, I usually ask them for water or soda. If they're particularly insistent, I'll ask them if they can get me a tartan. Most of the time they don't come back. Or with tartar sauce.

Tata Bojs have been playing for over thirty years, you've had a large exhibition about the history of your band, and there's a documentary about you in the pipeline. Do you feel like you're part of a phenomenon?

I've never thought of myself that way before. Interesting view! I'll try to say it at home.

Photos from concerts: Jan Slavík | Photo Tata Bojs: Salim Issa | Text: Helena Stiessová