Does well Ismael Serrano in getting breast, what the hell. Because he can and because, after 21 years in the breach, he has all the right to pride, to vindication. At a time when some still insist on caricaturing the author's song as a genre that supplies monsergas, the Vallecano placed a difficult argument to refute last night, his second full of 2018 at the WiZink in Madrid. There will be those who consider anachronistic to sing to the anguish of the heart and the tribulations of the conscience, but to seat 6,000 people per night in front of such an extensive (and intense) repertoire has great merit. That of a man who over the years may have lost popularity, but gained perspective. And that he observes himself with less solemnity and, therefore, with lucidity surplus.
Serrano is still taking seriously, the first thing we have to demand from an artist, but now he also lets us see the smile, the scorn, even the self-parody. That is why he expressed his gratitude to the couples who, "in a moment of unconsciousness," pronounced at home the magic phrase: "I accompany you, my love". And, as a palliative, he undertook to "make the torture more bearable" with a generous and irreproachable number of guests. Llevadero, that no light: the three hours fulfilled of show would contribute ammunition to the author of that malicious joke according to which "if you put an album of Ismael Serrano in your pocket your leg falls asleep".
A menu against the detractors
The detractors are, by nature, irreducible, but Serrano entertains his supporters with a copious menu, prolix discourse and a commendable effort of theatricality. Ismael has learned to sanctify the scenario, to conceive the public exhibition as an event of high relevance. Wears a vest and tie of great occasions, displays a cozy lounge set design, disposes the six musicians on a platform three meters high, does not compromise with the law of minimum effort. You'll like it a lot or just regulate it, because the scratches always have mixed luck when it comes to expanding, but to that boy that was released, beardless, with Trapped in blue they can not be denied either sensible speech or unwavering coherence.
Serrano is still taking seriously, the first thing we have to demand of an artist, but now let the smile also appear
Are the best albums always the first ones?, asked Serrano with all the depth load, perhaps stinging because Dad, tell me again or Lately (this, with Brazilian transfusion) continue to be his most choreographed pieces. "Maybe we miss who we were then," he argued. It is likely that reason will assist and its more recent pages have gained in nuance and richness, but the mere fact that it elicits so many particular evocations implies that it has become a soundtrack for many lives. It is not small merit; at the very least, it is far-reaching pride.
There may still be a lack of greater melodic and, above all, rhythmic diversity, because the pencil-in-hand Ismael tends to be embedded in the middle time, in the muffled rhythm. And last night the battery equalization failed, which sounded raw, blurred, uncomfortable. But there was in the torrential succession of guests a broad argument for the fascinations. From the closest and most involved accomplices (Pedro Guerra, Víctor Manuel, Javier Bergia, the sharp notes of Andrés Suárez) to the inescapable surprises (Miguel Ríos, septuagenarian generosity) or the transversal job of Pasión Vega.
You will like it a lot or just regulate but that boy who will premiere, beardless, with Trapped in blue you can not deny him the sensible speech or the irrevocable coherence
Sílvia Pérez Cruz, always on the edge between emotion and disproportion, colored the ranchera My problem, but the biggest injection of adrenaline was provided by the traditional Burgaleses Fetén Fetén and the television Álvaro Morte with their riotous reading of Bella Ciao, the same anthem that Tom Waits has also revitalized. A necessary subversion, for the clouds that can come close.
The best is that multiply the reasons to continue singing, fighting, planting face. "Do not succumb to discouragement. They will not happen, "summarized Ismael, by way of soflama, before setting out to share a path for the next twenty years. I wish, what his beloved Silvio would say. 2038 is the challenge. It produces vertigo, like the song, but it will be something to face it.