Last Sunday is likely to become one of the most memorable nights of my life thanks to your group’s determined outlook on creating a better world through music. Your ability to fight the status quo through the spiritually healing, sexually appealing and physically invigorating channel, greatly voiced by Ruben, deserves all the subscriptions in the world.
I will admit I was nervous when I noticed the seats would not fill to capacity, thinking you may not give us your all due to the inexcusable empty seats. However, as the lights went low the audience cheered and the opening notes from “Futuro” filled The Crest as my fears vanished without a trace. Throughout the night you would encourage us to feel free and to bask in our own nature, while remaining in the present moment.
If I wasn’t dancing, I was smiling in admiration at the synergy we were witnessing on that stage. While Enrique and Joselo may be brothers by blood, Ruben and Emmanuel share similar features in appearance and expression that come together to form a musical family that has managed to push one and the other into 30 years of successive harmony.
For all its intricate dedications and inspirations, the new album, “Jei Beibi,” could serve as a final blueprint or a grand introduction to your journey as Café Tacvba. Self-inspired, as always, the stories are your own, but the sound, I believe you would agree, belongs to the world.
As a Peruvian-American, the simple addition of your older classic “Olita de Altamar” to Sunday’s setlist left me speechless with rosy cheeks. Since I had the opportunity to speak with Joselo prior to your visit, during which I brought up your recent show in Lima, I couldn’t help but feel like the song was performed as a special memento for me and my plus one.
I brought my father to the show that night. It was the first time we were able to appreciate a concert together for the same reasons of resonance, though layered in different periods of time. He would share with me the first time he heard your sound in Peru and I would remember the time I saw you walking along the Coachella grounds in 2013. We both cheered and danced and jumped and felt the energy we both agreed was rare to find in a live show, considering we have listened to your music for years through smaller mediums.
You have always stood out as “different” in the public eye, but in person you are more in tune with humanity than the average woman or man. Just as you have known how to adapt within your realm and reinvent your sound, you have known how to stay consistent in your message of love–love in the sense of consciousness. Love in the form of universal human rights. “Swimming in the sea of love.” Love for all the children in the world, but especially those who have been “lost.” Love for the women of this world, who give birth and have been birthed from Pachamama.
You saged the crowd and praised natural sex appeal with a hand on your hip. You played the keys while playing the air drums. You played a stand-up bass and signed your letter to Sacramento with your signature dance. You took selfies with the crowd, gave fist-bumps in the middle of songs and warmly embraced a fan who made her way on stage. You made many people happy on Sunday.
For every note and lyric, we thank you for your music.
Until we groove again,
Photos by Cesar Alexander.