Mushka’s great night: “It’s like a Champions League final” | News from Catalonia

While the strident screaming invaded everything and she ran from side to side of the stage, dressed as a street like what it is, a normal kid, it only missed that on the scene it would fly over Buzz Lightyear screaming “towards the infinite and beyond.” Having passed from the Sidecar to Sant Jordi Club, full, with a Mixtape and a first album, with a pose and attitude very similar to that of its immense parish of followers, many of them with the first time look amazing the face, that first time in a concert, or almost, in which everything is magical, in which each song is a celebration, each chor and stalls. “It’s like a Champions Final,” she shouted in the first measures of the night. And yes, as with Lamine Yamal there is only nothing to spoil the precocity of this urban figure. Even the rolls of toilet paper trembled in their supports in the distant toilets.

Hour and a half to dispatch a repertoire that was sexy sensitive to the bossa and never before before such a kid, youth delivery singing that “xocant, xocant” repeated and replicated in cumbia key by them, knowing what can mean what it can mean “com that m’has dit that m’estimes / jo ja no t’estimo tant”. Good luck that young women are only for frivolities. There were many more guests and invited, a cheerful gang of collaborations whose list would occupy more than one paragraph to summarize can go to the complicities that Mushka has woven in his career. Many and varied. And she greeted as host and as “Patroness” by 31 Fam after singing “no sóc in Carles Porta, però the cul that wears if it is a criminal” and have the entire enclosure making the windshield with the arms. The patron saint. Handling that coquetry without alharacas, without fatuity, with the naturalness of what it is so because it is.

On stage several musicians making band to sound not only digital. Keyboards, with alone, guitar, with alone, percussion and bass, trumpet and saxon, chorister and accordion. The mixture between analog and digital sounded somewhat disheveled, a little to Barahúnda, without too much polishing, but observing it was only a scope. Like the difficulty of sounding such a guest squad, especially them, singing fully, enjoying the moment. They, for example Julieta, Don’t love me, Vaya Liada or Maria Jaume, there will be no way, More rest, letting them take the right for the euphoria of an almost coral concert for greater glory of the local urban scene, enjoying enthronement in an Olympic resonance space. Moments of glory and self -affirmation. Dance on the track, mobile phones only when it was strictly necessary, because it seemed that despite what is said, he looked better with the eyes than with the cameras.

These appeared with Apabullo and under a screaming of great consideration, Greta, singing Sign of respect. The family in the epicenter, the power of twinned women, the strength of current music, call it it and reggaeton, but also bachata and salsa, those rhythms that the parents might dance and that now return properly tinned by the daughters. The background music never just left, only breaks are taken from time to time, but in the end they are always there, perfectly recognizable as in the Mushka concert. A full -fledged youth celebration, topped with a samba to all rag and with everyone on stage thanking the moment. The night only missing Buzz Lightyear.