The world may end, but ours will continue

After several months doing away with virtual concerts, today was a different day. Because years ago, the only way to see the Depressive Block was on YouTube. More than one man with a broken heart resorted to that concert at the Théâtre de la Ville, in times when they had not yet released an album or El Macha decided to fill the Caupolicán with his heartbreaking versions of the AM classics. This time there was no excuse.

With that idea in mind, I entered the streaming of the Pulsar Fair, where the stage of the Mapocho Station had installed a couple of lamps, skeletons and a photo of the Puerto Rican Héctor Lavoe -El Cantante-, as a montage to teleport the virtual public to a night of wines and deep conversations in some hill of Valparaíso.

El MachaAdopting the theatricality of this format, he appears on camera with a black radio in hand, changing stations looking for a topic that convinces him.

The band, ordered according to the times of social distance, accompanies the voice of Villa Alemana with a remix of songs known to fans of Spanish music.

“Se Me Olvidó otra vez” by Juan Gabriel marks the beginning of the concert, and then gives way to a new cover of “Shared lips” by Maná. Far from the rock that accompanies the original version, the guitar trio makes it their own, as if verses like “Again my crazy mouth / It falls back on your skin” had been born in a seedy canteen.

“Amor por ti”, a bolero popularized in Chile by voices such as Buddy Richard or Los Ángeles Negros, joins this remix and, luckily for me, the song remains stagnant as a result of the bad signal in a stanza ad hoc to the situation : “The world may end, but ours will continue.”

The day, which lasted for about 50 minutes, did not provide spaces for conversations, giving priority to a tremendously popular musical selection such as “El mar y el cielo” by Los Panchos, “Vergüenza ajena” by Los Jaivas or “Procuro forget you” , to mention a few.

The hymns of heartbreak with which they made a space in the last decade were not absent. “The Great Tyrant”, “In the gold of your hair” and “Sweetheart”, the latter dedicated to the children of the Sename, were present.

There was also space to introduce some of the original work that they have done in the Block. With the chords that made Chris Isaak’s “Wicked Game” famous, the group virtually premiered “Apaga la tele”, a recent single from last September, which marks one of the moments of the night.

Another no-minor detail is some verses by Charly recited by El Macha, before a heartrending cry of mariachi introduces “Out of my life”: “And if you go to the right / And you change to the left, go ahead / It’s better than be still / It’s better than being a watchman ”. What did he mean? Not everything has an explanation.

As if the thing no longer wanted, the televised musical ritual ends as if the first lights of the next day appeared in a dreamlike space, and one by one the musicians stopped playing. The insistent guitarist continues arpeggiating his instrument, until El Macha whispers in his ear “Now go home.” The task was accomplished.