The Milla Cavern

I think in the last two years I’ve seen more pictures of shows in the Milla than of pictures of me as a baby in my whole life. It’s smaller than I expected, of course. It’s also more dizzying, this concrete floor that fucks up with your equilibrium,it’s pretty intense, dancing here.

The stage is bathed in blue and makes me miss the bright red of all these pics I saw. The little curtain leads to the backstage which should be called upupstage or something.

Murena plays with Tagar tonight, and the nerd in me rejoices at hearing these songs I know by heart in yet another formation. I’ve seen Murena live thrice now, with full band, solo and now with Tagar on drum and effects. It’s fascinating I think, receiving these songs in different colours, every time. Let me actually share some words I wrote after the Murena solo performance at the Platform at the beginning of my trip :

Being right here, right now. Receiving everything so deeply, in a way that probably no one will ever understand… Seeing on a performer’s face way too many things, because I know their music a little too intimately. Covert frustration at technical failures, moments of deep concentration… Everything becomes graceful, when you get to see someone twist and turn a song, live.
I sometimes wish it was possible to hear every possible version of a song. Hear its whole history. Maybe that’s the gift and the curse of the musician, right here : you have the knowledge, but you alone have it.
So right here, right now, participating in the history of a song.

Participating in the history of a song. Actively, as Dizzy Errol and I delivered surprise back vocals on Party Pussy, making Murena laugh over his lyrics.

Changeover. Gutfeeling is so good with visual promotion that I actually can recognize band members lingering in the audience. Know who will play what as they appear from the backstage curtain. I take a picture of Fastforwardmonaco taking a picture of Señor Ernesto.

The venue is full as the thirteen-headed band starts playing. Dissatisfied with my spot as nobody dances around me, I make my way to the front row, where I find the cool people and the amazing view of the stage. Dancing ensues. The Gutfeeling family once again prooves that happiness comes from great company and great music, and the playfulness on each musician’s face is communicative. G.Rag y Los Hermanos Patchekos is a great ensemble, in number and in talent, and every choice they make is always the right one to deliver the best of shows.

The Milla cavern-like walls turn to orange and red as the house tech gets into the dance, too.