Me, myself and I, chillin’ at MdF, cumps
Another year gone by and here we are, August coming and still the memories of a fully enjoyed weekend at Barcelos, Braga, Portugal. Yes, it’s Milhões de Festa 2013 and its post-depressing nostalgic memories. But enough fussiness, what’s left of the past weekend? Here’s what, in the first of four parts of the festival’s journal.
First act (also and formerly known as Act Zero)
After the memorable day-zero-made-day-minus-one at Xispes Bar, with a party in charge of Coronado Collective, responsible for lots of beverage and – you know what? Forget the “memorable” back then, because I’m scarce in details. I do remember listening and loving the best Phil Collins’ cover of “In the Air Tonight” (SAUR to blame) and few less. Oh, what a night. And a morning to fully recover, because a day of quality shows from afternoon to all night long at Taina Stage was ahead. And while first I was agog regarding the conditions of Taina for the evening shows, quickly these doubts fade away. I have to fess, the stage switching places with the food tents was not only efficient in grouping a larger crowd in front of it, but also logical in the direction where people arrived to the belvedere. And the illumination! Finally some quality light for those who would like to see the face of the people who they were talking, not that last year’s lame Christmas decoration. So basically, this year, the spot was pretty functional, although still lots and lots of people. Really a lot. I keep the compliments none the less, so as you can see, this didn’t ruin the fun. Au contraire, as we’ll see.
So, how has the lineup behaved? Impeccably! Canzana and Cangarra were giving a politeness-free however competent rock jam. Too bad I miss the clash of the titans (translating: the tag team duel of both bands) due to dinner time. You know, the stomach got better since morning, make use of it while it’s possible. As I was returning, I got to catch some traces of Killing Frost’s performance. It seemed violent enough, so that’s okay. But soon the madness was about to begin. Spacin’ in a first look was presumably sane and safe, with its revival rock glued with garage influences. But as soon as these guys became insistent with their simple guitar riffs and much stripped drum beats, your head would start agreeing (in other words: headbanging) with the approach. Repetition is a virtue, and Spacin’ knows it like no one else. Terrific gig.
The madness proceeded and almost peaked with Holocausto Canibal. And actually the “almost” part by no means it’s their fault, because good lord. There’s brutal violence, and then there’s this. If they told me somebody got thrown to the river while crowdsurfing I would totally buy it. But no, luckily the band got to be much sadistic than the audience. Release your inner demons, metalheads!
And finally, we’ve made it to the pinnacle of the madness: Claiana. Please, feel free to explain me why does a Caribbean Michael Jackson impersonator, with nothing much other than a borrowed DJ to play his fruity loops compositions (and a big thank you, Mariana, for a simple but important job) and his occasional staccato guitar playing in the middle of a few does work and it’s so damn good. Please, try to find an explanation. Because I still won’t care for it, I loved every minute of it. Clearly the winner of the night, and not much else to say. If you still didn’t attend a Claiana show, here’s my recommendation: 1001 concerts to attend before you die list, entry number #NOW.
Thankfully, Sabre decided to put a break on the freakiness but still driving fast on the dancing. The theme remained tropical, but with a lot more chilling feel and drooling beats. Sabre was the missing tonic on your gin ice on your margarita, while your body would already be on the rocks. The only warming up present was in the dance pool, but the moves were rather simple and metronomic. Time for the host DJs. And personally, here’s my two cents of the set: DJ Quesadilla ruled them all. Ok, sure, the rest of the DJs – namely DJ Lynce, DJ Pedro Beça & DJ TOFU for the sake of recognition – also got more than a word to say, but come on. First, it was his birthday, and in fact we did get to party like it was his birthday (relax, they left that cliché song home), with a delicious like fuck birthday cake and all. Second, the choosing of the playlist was charming as hell, I mean, Novos Baianos? Gal Costa? Rita Lee? Nossa, do caralho. And of course, the set closer “Quero que Vá Tudo P’ró Inferno”, Roberto Carlos original. Happy birthday, Quesadilla. And happy opening Milhões de Festa. Already worth it.
Second act to come, stay close!
Photos courtesy of Amílcar R. (more to come)