It had been about 9 (!!!) years since I last saw them live. Like many others, certain music has a profound effect on me: people, aromas and places subjected to their soundtrack in the past come straight back and remain hanging in the air every time we listen. These two folks, live, were and still are the best they can be. And because of that and the effect they’ve always had on me, the soul of Eliana from the past with her heart broken into pieces and divorced from a specific music scene just couldn’t take what it meant to go see them live again. Of course, I kept listening to their music, playing their songs on my guitar and crying with them on repeat. But by the time I had gathered my courage and put my heart back  together, they had stopped playing. I went out and followed the trail of Prietto’s other project, danced in the soft tides generated by his espiritus, but it wasn’t the same. I needed the space odyssey. 

And then one day I heard the news (living in a tupper I had not heard about the show  in Plasma back in May): on June 23rd Prieto would travel to the cosmos with Mariano once more. And so it happened that on yet another cold, cold night, around 400 (?) people (I am so bad at making out how many people fit in one place) excitedly strolled into the venue, some even sitting themselves upon the floor, feeling at home in the knowledge that what was coming next would not let us down and would be at the very least, beautiful.

And there they were, as always, Maxi in profile facing Mariano and the latter with his drum kit placed at a slight angle. And so we travelled. A slow-motion yet magnetic pogo took hold of the audience, who swayed in absolute and totally coordinated emotion. It was foolish of me to think I could stay out of it and watch it all “from the outside” in the joy that overflowed the lovely Xirgu I found myself right in the middle of it, going with the flow. The long expected ritual was finally happening, we were all back in space. Hearts beating to the drums (which to me are the best live drums in this freaking country) our chests touched and lifted by the vocals only to swiftly land on Maxi’s guitars and take flight once again.

 

Yes, of course, all the expected songs were played. But what matters here is what we feel when at a show: we sang, many of us grabbed our heads at the beginning of every song, we toasted to and with the commanders of our odyssey, and, towards the end, even shed a tear or two.

Smiling broadly we said goodbye, everyone, us and them, so grateful.

And I, with my wounds all healed up (both the old and the new), waved at an old love as I left, thinking about how some circles are closed and others begun and how in that simple and natural flowing synergy things fall into place.

According to the band, “madness is like psychedelia, chaos is like rock n roll, melancholia is like a ballad, and like that everything is like something else, but it isn’t, Prietto viaja al cosmos con Mariano are actually two people playing what they feel like playing.” And for that, we thank them.