Sunday morning, listening to the probable repertoire that they could play that afternoon Stool in the Euskalduna, we got carried away, we came up: with such a songbook, if they did it half well, they could give one of the best concerts of the year. And at the start of the appointment, of 21 songs in 101 capicua minutes attended by 600 singing souls who they exhausted the legal pandemic capacity and that more than 80% were adolescent girls, it was already perceived that Stool would have it difficult due to two handicaps: the volume, super low, with the power apparently calculated so as not to reach the heights of the palace because it is not necessary (since that part is empty), a shortage of watts that made the kids sing louder than the group (To make matters worse, the lyrics sung by Willy Bárcenas, the son of the ex-treasurer of the PP, you know, were hardly understood), and the very poor lighting of the stage, with so few lights that we came to think that it was premeditated, so that it would look better the logo of the Dominican rum sponsor of the tour, a tour of more than 20 concerts by theaters that, coincidentally, Stool ended this Sunday in Bilbao (rebound, because the show was scheduled for Sunday, April 25, but was postponed for the happy setbacks of the pandemic). The next date for the Madrilenians will be on June 26 in Granada, in a sports center with 2,000 seats.
Stool, in ochote (the trumpet was quite the protagonist of the Navarrese jazzman Patxi Urchegui, whom Willy called ‘Don Paco’ and who came on stage blowing the Athletic anthem, which the kids began to sing, of course), they finished in Bilbao the theater tour of their fourth album, ‘The infinite joke’ (Voltereta Records, 2020), from which all the songs sounded, thus capped by the low power of the team brought with them by the Madrid co-led by Antón Carreño and the aforementioned Willy Bárcenas, who assured his collaborators: «This is not a group of musicians, but of friends. We like to travel, sing … This is not a job, this is God’s! ». Amen!
The Sunday concert went to more, although the kids did not stop singing from top to bottom all the songs. And he also participated, interacted in various ways: turning on the lights of his mobiles at least three times, clapping rhythmically again and waving his arms up. And in such hedonistic communion from the loving to the tavern, Stool triumphed from start to finish, and we are going to prove it.
At the start we were a bit limp because it lacked punch. It was not bad, there were no rebounds or echoes, but the sound that was sensed within the stage did not exceed those limits. Thus, with the wet gunpowder, Stool suggested its potential in ‘Mexico DF’ (a passport to the markets on the other side of the pond with verses like “And America is my house”), they trampled on it in ‘El rey del contrabando’ (linked to ‘El fin’, in a tone of Latin miscegenation that to the Azpiazu evoked the Valencians La Pulquería), they surpassed their great influence Café Quijano in ‘Salto al vaca’, and they sang to all the girls in ‘Ella’.
The second part had much more chicha, from the soul ballad of ‘John Ford’ to the also quijanesque ‘Madame Ayahuasca’, from the eternal party of ‘Willy Palmeras’ (“A character who is with us from the beginning and does not understand curfews or anything like that”, introduced his namesake Bárcenas) to another growing and loving soul like ‘Abierto en vena’ (dedicated by Antón Carreño to his girlfriend, present in the stalls as he claimed) and to the waltz of the false ending ‘Brindo’.
And what to add about the spectacular and community encore with four songs: the first starring Willy for his ‘Mom’, and the other three so round and invoking and identifiable even though you’re not posh as ‘Sirenas’, where the voices of the public transported us to post-pandemic normality; ‘Amos del piano bar’, far superior to the Arnau Griso who performed as an acoustic duo at the Campos Theater at the same time (and those who we wish had also sold out); and the final farewell with ‘Caminito a motel’, a true story with a chorus as simply brilliant as this one: «And I start drinking / And I start dancing and it begins to grow on me / The folly, give me a drink / Give me to drink”. A thousand times better than La Polla Records, right?