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It being Saturday Night, at 2:15 AM, we slide out of the Cigarra set, to take a taxi to the next show.
La Yegros is in town, back from Paris where she lives, to record an album and visit friends and relatives for the holidays.
So, we head over to Beatflow, a club on Cordoba that always reminds me of a cross between the old punk clubs of the 70s in the USA, and the approach ramp to the upper level of a futbol stadium. Its a slanted narrow concrete hallway, the floor is sticky, the air is smoky and hot, and the bridge and tunnel kids from the suburbs are getting drunk and yelling "CUMBIA" at the top of their lungs. But somehow, a lot of great bands play there, especially loud and funky cumbia bands.
I dunno if I can take the smog again, though.
Luckily we get to sneak back into the backroom, where the door is open to the rainy evening, and you can breathe, until the band comes on. And talk to various interesting friends about many things.
Finally, at maybe quarter to 3, La Yegros comes on.
She brings the core of her band with her from Europe- the 9 foot tall guitar player, David Martinez is dressed Aztek Warrior style, and starts ripping it up on the Strat, mixing up rock and roll, peruvian Chica, garage rock, and lots and lots of cumbia. The percussionist, Gabriel Ostertag, is playing six drums at once, shaking the walls. Local friend and session player extraordinaire Alejandor Franov is filling in on accordian and flutes. The Smoke Machine cranks up, mixing with the cold mist from the overworked airconditioners, the cloud of illicit cigarette smoke, pot fumes, and whatever that stuff is that comes out of vapes, and a floating cloud of vaporized sweat.
Heaven or Hell- You decide.
Then La Yegros enters.
She has grown into the regal queen in Europe, still rocking her Mesopotamia roots, but also channelling all the South American Divas of the last 100 years. She is mysterious and elegant in a green cocktail dress, impossibly tall shiny black heels, and towering hair. She rocks the worlds largest scrunchy, furry or feathery, wrapped around her hair so it is a tall column, sort of like a high fashion version of Kid's do from Kid and Play in the 80s.
Across her shoulders, she is wearing a feathered boa/wings/epaulette decoration that makes her ready to fly away at any moment.
And she begins to sing.
The sound isnt great, but her voice and charisma transcends it anyway, and the crowd begins to bounce like a huge wave crossing the ocean, and the wild cumbia begins.
The music flows across genres, sometimes falling back on classic crowdpleasing cumbia beats, other times getting wild and wooly, and La Yegros is serene and in control above it all.
I can only take so much sweat and vaporized beer, I slink out the slippery concrete ramp around 4:20 in the morning, missing the Gaby Kerpel Queen Cholas set, which, I have heard, would also feature more La Yegros as well, but I am merely human, and no longer a chico.
here is somebody's phone video- a snippet of the intensity.
https://www.instagram.com/p/BcOynsElKwH/
La Yegros is in town, back from Paris where she lives, to record an album and visit friends and relatives for the holidays.
So, we head over to Beatflow, a club on Cordoba that always reminds me of a cross between the old punk clubs of the 70s in the USA, and the approach ramp to the upper level of a futbol stadium. Its a slanted narrow concrete hallway, the floor is sticky, the air is smoky and hot, and the bridge and tunnel kids from the suburbs are getting drunk and yelling "CUMBIA" at the top of their lungs. But somehow, a lot of great bands play there, especially loud and funky cumbia bands.
I dunno if I can take the smog again, though.
Luckily we get to sneak back into the backroom, where the door is open to the rainy evening, and you can breathe, until the band comes on. And talk to various interesting friends about many things.
Finally, at maybe quarter to 3, La Yegros comes on.
She brings the core of her band with her from Europe- the 9 foot tall guitar player, David Martinez is dressed Aztek Warrior style, and starts ripping it up on the Strat, mixing up rock and roll, peruvian Chica, garage rock, and lots and lots of cumbia. The percussionist, Gabriel Ostertag, is playing six drums at once, shaking the walls. Local friend and session player extraordinaire Alejandor Franov is filling in on accordian and flutes. The Smoke Machine cranks up, mixing with the cold mist from the overworked airconditioners, the cloud of illicit cigarette smoke, pot fumes, and whatever that stuff is that comes out of vapes, and a floating cloud of vaporized sweat.
Heaven or Hell- You decide.
Then La Yegros enters.
She has grown into the regal queen in Europe, still rocking her Mesopotamia roots, but also channelling all the South American Divas of the last 100 years. She is mysterious and elegant in a green cocktail dress, impossibly tall shiny black heels, and towering hair. She rocks the worlds largest scrunchy, furry or feathery, wrapped around her hair so it is a tall column, sort of like a high fashion version of Kid's do from Kid and Play in the 80s.
Across her shoulders, she is wearing a feathered boa/wings/epaulette decoration that makes her ready to fly away at any moment.
And she begins to sing.
The sound isnt great, but her voice and charisma transcends it anyway, and the crowd begins to bounce like a huge wave crossing the ocean, and the wild cumbia begins.
The music flows across genres, sometimes falling back on classic crowdpleasing cumbia beats, other times getting wild and wooly, and La Yegros is serene and in control above it all.
I can only take so much sweat and vaporized beer, I slink out the slippery concrete ramp around 4:20 in the morning, missing the Gaby Kerpel Queen Cholas set, which, I have heard, would also feature more La Yegros as well, but I am merely human, and no longer a chico.
here is somebody's phone video- a snippet of the intensity.
https://www.instagram.com/p/BcOynsElKwH/