Mi Vidu Loca

Rocio Flores in a blaze of colour at Tijuana's Festival de la Ciudad

FESTIVAL DE LA CIUDAD @ PLANETA TIJUANA / MULTIKULTI. (2007-11-16)

We got there when the natural light of the sky had already faded. The ticket line seemed lost in the confusion of the gathering people, engrossed in their talks, saluting each other, lighting cigarette after cigarette; showing a preconception of ideals, turning their heads on what seemed a natural musical habit; communication in perspective, music to love, loving music. The public dressed almost entirely in black, Doc. Marten’s boots, “Punks Not Dead” T-shirts, colored mowhawk-like hair, oscillating mostly between twenty and thirty years of age.

It was a very cold Friday night. The place: a marvelous old cinema building, now transformed into a communion hall, where music of all gustos will soon fly, genre after genre. I hadn’t been into this “cinema” since I was a little girl. At the moment we made our entrance I remembered when my parents took my brother and I to watch a matinee of Superman I and II films, I recalled how my brother and I were amazed by the mastery of this marvelous and huge movie theater. I still recall this as a fascinating story.

And now, entering again after more than twenty years is a very nice experience. Now, the place has lost its movie theater charm, and acquired another one; dressed without a concrete rooftop, a huge transformation has taken place. Where there once was charm there is now a ruin-type atmosphere with a sense of absorbing feelings, cultural statements too, a place made by the people for the people.

Now it was time to enjoy the beginning of el Festival de la Ciudad, with the bands, TJ Groove Station; Moyenei; Somos Uno Sound system; Sinalokos Tropa; BocaFloja; Solucion Mortal; Calavera; and Tijuana NO.

Our first sounds came floating out of a TJ Groove Station saxophone, jazzy, bluesy, groovy, just the right tone, giving emphasis to the beginning of a long musical night, a night of artistic feelings where local artists will display their creations as an important part of the stage performance, in a concrete mural full of the vivacious colors of old school graffiteros and muralists of the streets of Tijuana. Bafflement and inventiveness, pretty much awarded by the lights of every well managed color, where the yellows, oranges, greens, and blues, danced in unison with the played music.

Then, people placed their strength in the reggae syndrome of Moyenei, with an encompassed voice, especially for all of those who love these Jamaican cadenced sounds! Hip-hop, being here a movement where the Chicano or the Mexican outcasts displayed their feelings, their tolerance towards themselves and the others, accepting stoically “Mi Vida Loca” (My Crazy Life) as their main motto, as a philosophy of living, as a choice. This would take the name of Sinalokos Tropa from Culiacan, Sinaloa.

After this raspy introduction, came the time for BocaFloja (Easy Mouth) from the Distrito Federal. Spoken word, hip hop from the suburbs, from the heart of the streets of our outcast Mexico; he spoke about people living on the streets; gender issues, and non-affordable stigmas. I liked his style; he’s one of those persons, who live life trying to put people into thought, this, being an activity which for some people requires a lot of strength, because it takes a conclusion, a responsibility towards life, people, and our surroundings. A much more of a reggae-party continued then with Somos Uno Sound System, good songs, from a quartet of groovy staccatos singing about having fun.

By this time, people were already gathering more towards the stage, the feelings were flourishing out of the musical appreciation, moving into a more eclectic stage. The mural so and so was looking more like a whole in itself, the spray painting was making a huge figure of cities, flowers, sounds; faceless expressions, tattooed streets, a true expression of Mexican and border culture, a freelance spirit taking place at the sight of everyone’s illusions to become part of a common philosophy.

After almost three hours of music, it came the time to listen to a pair of local legendary underground punk bands: Solucion Mortal, and Calavera; old school punk, hardcore-sense in itself. Solucion Mortal is a band I recall with gusto from my teenage years. Singing about immigration, church hypocrisy and the Pope, the media, the environment, in a very raw and accelerated scheme; this was a rapidly and very energetic. Calavera, a little bit more relaxed and funny, was remembering the classic punk songs from those years when we used to visit the streets out of adolescent fury. A swing-y-punk style I call it. A musical common sense willingly named: Hardcore.

It was almost 2 o’clock in the morning when Tijuana NO touched the stage; everyone was looking tired but never the less enthusiastic. Playing with a vibe that only musical maturity can give, we enjoyed of this band’s long awaited performance in a stoicism that not even the cold, the late hours, or the fatigue could diminished.

© 2007 Rocio Flores

© Miwsig