FITO

Arte por Excelencias - - Cuba -

For my ge­ne­ra­ti­on, Fito Páez is al­most a la­te god, not an un­po­llu­ted god, but a much mo­re dis­con­cer­ting one, that we lis­te­ned to as if the earth split un­der our fe­et and a grum­bling, trans­hu­mant voi­ce with ci­gar and al­co­hol scent said that, yes, that even un­der the cur­rent sta­te of af­fairs «not everyt­hing was lost».

Rat­her af­fec­ti­ve than epoc­hal, and drif­ting betwe­en the end of the cen­tury and the be­gin­ning of the new mi­llen­ni­um, my ge­ne­ra­ti­on trus­ted Fito Páez and his sout­hern and “de­ca­pi­ta­ted” bre­ath, whe­re folk­lo­re and La­tin Ame­ri­can song -Mer­ce­des

So­sa, Víc­tor Ja­ra, Vi­o­le­ta Par­ra, etc.- from which he drew on as a mem­ber of the so-ca­lled tro­va ro­sa­ri­na, we­re mi­xed with the rock sounds of the pi­a­no and the elec­tric gui­tar that we found in ot­her im­por­tant Ar­gen­ti­ne mu­si­ci­ans.

Now that Fito clo­ses the In­ter­na­ti­o­nal Film Fes­ti­val of Gi­ba­ra, I re­mem­ber how we used to pass his re­cords from one fri­end to the ot­her, as if we we­re han­ding so­met­hing pre­ci­ous, and al­so chan­ted in im­pro­vi­sed me­e­tings of fri­ends, whe­re his mu­sic was the per­fect sound­track: tho­se the­mes that now he sang for us again on the sta­ge.

Newspapers in Spanish

Newspapers from Cuba

© PressReader. All rights reserved.