A village teacher | News from Catalonia

Let’s get into party mode. It may well involve ties around the head and unlit cigars when a wedding has done away with formalities or dancing in a fiesta to the airing of churros, bacon on the grill and mixed drinks that liven up the night even more. It is now the moment when few things matter, well, the basic ones never go away, that of seduction and glances, but disinhibition reigns and the other glances don’t even count, those of those willing to be scandalized by vocation. Well, there was some of all of that on Friday night at the Montjuïc Castle. The place is splendid for concerts, with no neighbours to bother each other, outdoors but protected by the wall, with so much stone that there weren’t even mosquitoes, watching the moon fall almost vertically after having seen the sun hide like a huge incandescent coin and with Joe Crepúsculo on stage. A popular festival without a town and without suspicious glances, a wedding without a bride and groom, a monumental party with the music that plays in towns and at weddings. With all its advantages, without any of the disadvantages.

It was the second concert at Sala Barcelona, ​​the brainchild of the association of concert halls (ASACC) that was born during the pandemic and that remains as a summer programme that will last until September 13 with the support of the Institut de Cultura de Barcelona. Crepúsculo was the second concert and the first big party. At Sant Joan Despí, now based in Madrid, it was hard to believe that there were so many people there, in the middle of August, all local audiences. But they were there, and very much in cahoots. With an extensive discography on the market and a new album already in the works, Joe’s proposal is popular, a mix of pounding electronics, pop, music and rave spirit with the sound background of the 90s and lyrics that go beyond the obvious. In trio format and with an arsenal of 16 songs, including a couple of ballads so as not to tire out the audience, the proposal prevailed over a forest of raised arms, bodies in trance and looks of joy that Joe lashed out with his war cry, “son of a bitch who doesn’t dance.” Yes, it’s not subtle, but since when have bumper cars been subtle?

Beyond the songs he performed, the overwhelming majority from his latest album, “Trovador tecno”, the important thing is the coherence of the proposal, which Joe defended as if he were in charge of a raffle placing dolls. With his constant shouts of “arrive”, spurring on the dance with his own, walking around the audience (for the most tired there were chairs and tables at the back), with his miniature laser projector pointed at his face in a special effects style Todo A Cien and handing out the Adoquín Awards (two enormous candies of the same name typical of Zaragoza) among the best dancers, he kept the rhythm of a concert marked by the bass drum.

The most stylized was the ironic “Música para adultos” (Music for adults), which with a melodic techno feel says “this is music for adults that you can’t understand”; the most racial was “El tren de la bruja” (The Witch’s Train) which talks about the fairground workers, “I live at the fair all day and the happiness of others pays for my food”; the most traditional was the automotive romanticism of “Carreteras de pasión” (Roads of Passion), dedicated to the truck drivers and taxi drivers who were there, and there were at least a couple; and the most provocative was that version of “Maricas” by Los Punsetes, and its opening verses “I want to die in a disco full of faggots/I want to die drinking straight from a barrel.” Just four buttons from an ideal repertoire to remember that we are here to have fun without inhibitions, with disheveled sounds, old synthesizers and lyrics that we can focus on. In that, Joe Crepúsculo is a master. From the town, like the ones always do. That’s why he finally brought everyone to the board and the audience ended up dancing on stage.

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