The family-oriented group sat on the floor and waited, unintimidated by Mabel’s snappy “Don’t call me” unleashed by surrounding voices. Groups of teenage boys and girls nervously made their way from the Kursaal Promenade while taking selfies to capture the moment. A few rambunctious couples walked into bars in the area, and it was quiet for those who normally attend such parties. “Except for the ‘El Drogas’ concert, none of the others attracted many supporters,” one manager told us. Wednesday is no exception.
75% of Sagüés Esplanade is listening to BULEGO, an Azkoitiarra quintet sung in Basque that permeates the youngest levels of our pyramid. They’re the authors of some lively music that’s still taking off — they’ve got one big album and two smaller ones — but that’s already given them the chance to hit the big stage at our August party.
Their menu is varied. Lively screens and shocking lighting accompany Basque radio-style local pop-rock, now modernized with digital hits and keyboard sounds, and we like to turn them off on a few songs for their riffing sound. With a touch of eighties European techno (less dark than Zetak), epic without the final fireworks and the essence of the Basque mainstream. The list ends with his hits “Kantu bat”, “Bueltan Da!!!”. -Leaving room for more classic ballads instead of sweaters tied around the neck. Over time, this mix has made sense, demonstrating the enjoyment that creativity can bring, rather than seeking to be pinned down to any particular style.
Big Week Concert
Much of the “fault” in the band’s health lies with the group’s frontman, Tomás Lizarazu. “Tom” in some modern media interviews. Career wise, an optimist. In his thirties, a “product manager” in a machinery company. Happy family father (whose daughter gets a dedication in “Entera daitezela”), and above all chili peppers.
A boy full of energy left Zetak early on Monday at work. He came up with everything anyone in there could imagine for a show: applause, arms raised, cell phones turned on, turning the Esplanade into a burning sea, stinging locals with biscay slang, stooping and standing up , a thousand and one onomatopoeia (“uooo”), shut up and let the people sing, get to the front row and sing. If I keep one, it’s the result of forgetting, not because the boy didn’t offer it.
But Lizarazu is a great vocalist first and foremost—he plays all the guitar riffs in formation, which is very unusual. Arriving in Donostia, recovering from pneumonia and barely noticed (the Rottenmeyer was not on, we just caught the tone error), it deserves mention and applause. Just like his lyrics. Lots of love and good vibes without being over the top. If the child insists on asking “Ta hori zer da?”, there is little reference to passionate sheets, which are easy to explain. Defending the Basque language (“Irulegiko esku”) or lyrics against sexist and homophobic attacks. In the future, our region will be hard-pressed to find a bigger and freer scene than yesterday. It wouldn’t be a surprise if they ripped it at the seams next time, though.
Danny Ocean, seaside urban pop
Do you like shaking big cows? Well, don’t miss your appointment tonight at the Sagus Corniche. Semana Grande saguesera will offer modern urban melodies that spread between Latin and rap, with the label “reggaeton” or “moombahton”. Daniel Morales, better known as Danny Ocean. An artist who became a global phenomenon with the song “Me Rehúso”. The theme was at the time (2016) the most listened to song of the decade in Latin America.