A couple of rumbas

Generic Manu Chao-ist dumbagogy in Che Sudaka‘s latest ¡uf!re, but a nice little Raval puppet theatre by Marta Pujol & Joan Picó:


Something with a bit more musical class (tho in playback) from pioneer Peret, Mataró-born and hence the only sensible reason why the genre is called rumba catalana instead of barcelonesa:

I sometimes wonder what would have happened had Peret found God (in his customary residence in Spain: the sumptous halls of the Iglesia Evangélica de Filadelfia) somewhat earlier in his career, and before Manu Chao discovered the marketing appeal of totalitarian mysticism. Would all Barcelona’s guitar-rebel clones be strolling around cursing the Devil instead of Capital and wearing Jesus instead of Che Guevara on their shirts? Would we be better- or worse-off?

Elitist explanation of the traditional strength of libertarian communist (aka anarchist) proselytism in Barcelona: starting in the mid-18th century the city attracts wave after wave of illiterate peasants who are prepared to believe in and get killed for any old millenarian shit, and who are incapable understanding rational politics, so get up on that there soupbox and take their money off them.

José-Manuel Thomas Arthur Chao singing dissolute American music with his first band, Hot Pants:

Hey, it makes the dog laugh.

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