The day claimed cold blood and was that of the iguana. Especially to hold the 40 degrees in the shade on the plastic lawn of the Mad Cool. They say their managers have spent a million euros on the green carpet that covers the festival and the truth is that the splendor is appreciated in the artificial grass but until the lords of Mad Cool do not turn off the sun, Steam fans are the busiest stage.
On the second day of the festival a question was raised: Lauryn Hill and Iggy Pop almost coincided in schedules, but the New Jersey was waiting. The American, somewhat unstable psychology to put it mildly, sent her DJ to entertain the masses for general uneasiness. Some feared a second Massive Attack (the British gave the scare last year and did not go to act), but with half an hour late, the former Fugees made an appearance. Let no one expect Hill's punctuality, since she herself titled an album boasting "The misseducation of Lauryn Hill", that is, of her bad education, album of the one that played the long-awaited "Everything is Everything". As far as we could see, he did not have his day or voice or desire. In a dishonorable gesture for her, her audience left her stage to witness a prodigious demonstration of strength.
At a couple of hundred meters, Iggy Pop burst onto the scene already shirtless and furious, frolicking with the public and threatening with the look with "I Wanna Be Your Dog". The youth of the leader of the Stooges has long since abandoned his skin and his walk, in total decline to his 72 years, but not his attitude and presence. "Gimme Danger" and "The Passenger" are fresh and rabid and nobody has overcome them. And let's not talk about "Lust for Life" that, if Lauryn Hill weighs her eyelashes, this venerable rusty hip rocker has the energy of 20 divas and also pronounces better "fuck".
"Skull Ring" sounded like hell: dangerous, true and threatening in a day in which we did not expect anything like the main bets of Bon Iver and Vampire Weekend. Fury and bad baba continue to draw their energy, because it is much better to hate everyone that you do not care what happens around you, as it seems to happen to Lauryn Hill. That's the "Sick of You" message. You make me sick With age to be watching the sea in Benalmádena, gave a lesson on how he detests well and what punk rock is: when the public chant your name, you answer "you make me sick".
"I'm going to tell you one thing, I've fucked up half my life, and the other half I tried to do things right and they told me I was being too strict, that I was becoming normal. I recommend you some strange sin ", said the one from Michigan, who in his flesh shows that neither pact with the devil, nor eternal youth, nor other trifles. Old age and hate. "Serch And Destroy", howls and fist held high. As he sings, rock is not fun, "No Fun" is something else, "motherfuckers". It was a perfect hour of sweat and he said goodbye by dropping the microphone. "I Love You," he said after all.
Before, Tash Sultana, with bare feet and more than a dozen instruments for herself, left speechless those who did not know her with his rock festival of ethnic air from the Lavapiés of the antipodes. In the style of "one person band", with pre-recorded tracks, it made the electric guitar roar until it was lying on the stage and an entire arsenal of instruments. The one in Melbourne seemed like a hippie Hendrix and moments ago a Hare Krishna acting on the will on a seafront but put in his pocket those who faced the heat.
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