calle 13: súbele el volúmen a la música satánica

i am going through major calle 13 withdrawal.

oh, you didn’t know that i was getting down like that this past weekend? mayhaps then you also don’t know that now there’s an iPhone-shaped space in my soul that is filling all of the internet needs i used to vent fullfil through this blog. yes, that may just be why there has been less posts.

mayhaps then, if you did not know that, you should now know that because of said iPhone, you should follow me on (nadstina). and there, you can look at all the things that i find pretty/tasty/sonically sound.

except for the calle 13 show.

not that the show was sonically unsound…but you’ll see what i mean.

see, this past weekend, i went to get my spanish hip hop groove on with my two hermana friends, and yes, we saw all the hotness that is René Pérez Joglar’s nude torso. and yes, we jumped around to the badassness that is PG-13/Ileana’s rad hiphop womanhood. and yes, i tried to take photos to put on with my new toy. and in my head, they would look like this:

but IRL, they looked like this:

and yes, although Residente glows in my heart, you can’t see him. you hear me, steve jobs? that’s why we have remezcla.

this calle 13 show was one of the most energetic shows i’ve been to in NYC. the crowd pumped, René pumped. he drank Puerto Rican rum on stage and talked some well-directed political jive–calling for better education, supporting my halfies in Chile, taking a Costa Rican flag (the first of many, many flags) on stage, and my whole self vibrated.

Visitante delivered it, constant and well-placed. the show was impeccably mic’d and the energy made up for the times that Residente screamed slightly off-beat.

La PG was my biggest surprise. by the end of the night i was totally gay for her. her voice carries more than Til Tuesday can ever express. she shared the stage but was not opaqued by Renés killer figure, which is no small task. and she is, in my humble opinion, one of the most badass tiny women i have ever seen.

the thing about this show that got to me is that between all the shaking beats, killer rhymes and political scatting, i was reminded of that feeling i got when i first heard “latinoamérica.” and i had that itch that is such a part of me, that itch to walk streets in spanish again. that need to see faces that are so undefinably like mine. that deep feeling in my chest of immense pain for a larger whole that i get every time we talk about the desaparecidos that my family is trying to never forget. that my family is a part of. that i am a part of. aquí se respira lucha. and i found my balance again.

this has resulted in a feedback loop of nothing but calle 13 songs from tangos del pecado to fiestas de locos to get my fix of the calle 13-shaped hole in my heart that these boricuas left.


~ by nadstina on October 20, 2011.

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