We were few in the Mad Cool and someone came up with a "day 0". The most mastodóntico festival in the capital had so far distributed its contents over three marathon days, those that test the resistance of the digestive system, good podiatric health, systematic caution regarding our hydration, patience with the agglomerations, public seduction in the art of hashtag, the existential void left by mobile devices when the battery dies and the power of deep inspiration to overcome the rigors of agoraphobia.
This had been happening since 2016, in sessions on Thursday, Friday and Saturday, but this time it was necessary to add a previous day of welcome, which seems more substantial if it is called Welcome Party. And although the fiestuqui It comprised up to 16 bands, everything was designed to pay attention to a single name. Four syllables whose mere mention multiplies expectations and revolutionizes heart rates. Seven letters that any day of these will end up quoting on the Nasdaq. Because the girl in question has long since stopped being normal.
But is Rosalía so important? We have resisted two whole paragraphs without mentioning it explicitly, but we must surrender to the evidence: nobody came to the Esplanade of Valdebebas Wednesday to anything other than to see how Sant Esteve Sesrovires spent it, a woman who has managed to convert hyperbole everything that surrounds it. That disembarked in the Mad Cool the same day in which The New York Times she had joined the global avalanche of parabienes and considered her the maximum responsible for the world "new order" of pop in Spanish. And that gets figures of reproductions so dizzying that they seem past from one day to another. Rosalia arrived, sent, bewitched, aroused an enthusiasm as eclectic as it was unusual, brought together children as young as they were modern and older; devotees and agnostics, some flamencologist and many newcomers to the faith of the palm and the Quejío. And he left at exactly 65 minutes, leaving, in fact, the feeling that the show would deflate with a more generous minutes. Perhaps because everything seems designed for a historical moment prone to fleeting attentions and volatile fascinations. To the effect more than the effect.
We live in the era of stories, which the Catalan itself refers to in the lyrics of Brightness. Everything dazzles as fast as it vanishes. Rosalia leaves the feeling that everything that happens on the tables is calculated to the millimeter, among other things because much of the music is prerecorded and much of the staging is based on meticulous choreography.
There is talent in abundance concentrated in that hour and little, because the girl has a really beautiful and never exorbitant voice, and has been able to develop along with El Guincho (very discreet, at the bottom on the right) a concept, hybrid, unprejudiced , recognizable and very aesthetic. But, as with the phenomena of huge dimensions, there is the fear of if we are not going to all the hand with the epithets.
Rosalía Vila is power and pride, is racial and (to the evidence we refer) unfamiliar with the borders, symbolizes an unavoidable feminization of the music business, is surrounded by six very visual and coordinated dancers and takes great care in everything, also in the dressing room: last night, light blue blouse and shorts green. But it already incurs some stylistic redundancy and recurrent formulas of adulation to the spectator. In an artist who cares so much, we could expect a more elaborate speech than tapping on the chest and catalog phrases, from "Much love, much love" to "Madrid, you are incredible" and "I love you so much", for not to mention the visit to the first row to pass the microphone among the most fans. And since the music is not performed, shotThere is also no chance to improvise or surprise; only that we all coerce.
The most exciting, perhaps the only genuinely exciting thing, was listening to Rosalía singing a capella Milionària, the most recent single and first foray into his mother tongue. In passing, he could see how the crowd had internalized the lyrics with a reasonable accent, a linguistic contribution much more effective than the clumsy one of public affairs. For the rest, amusing the tribute to Las Grecas, euphoric the end (With height, Aute cuture Y Badly) and disproportionate, for the time being, the earthquake rosaliesco. But we will keep an eye on the seismographs.
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