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Okay, recording.
Today, April 20th, 1977,
my brother bought his first Spanish guitar.
We had my grandfather's grungy old guitar, but anyway...
My brother tried all 57 guitars in the shop
and right when the owner was about to kick us out,
the chosen one appeared, like a ray of light.
Anyway, this recording will go down in history
as the day this guitar made it into our hands
because we'll use it to compose wonderful songs
that will travel around the world.
Sometimes my brother insults me, hits me, says things I don't want to hear.
It's time for him to pick the song he wants to play,
which will be immortalized, recorded for the first time,
our first contact with this guitar.
My brother appears to be looking for inspiration...
What a dummy, what you're hearing
is the Reveille,
the song soldiers wake up to in the morning.
Come on, Pedro, show them what you can do.
Yeah, the next one's coming in and 33 is already in the waiting room.
The guitar,
before it was a guitar, was simply a tree.
And that country wood
must have greeted on its branches
all kinds of birds over the years,
with winters, springs, moons,
scary moments, rainbows, always with love...
And this is how that sensitive wood
became "interpenetrated" with that sound.
It's the guitar that picks out its chosen ones,
lending them its infinite mysteries.
Man and guitar find each other,
because maybe, one day,
they were part of the same star.
Get up, shorty.
We're leaving.
Guitar, help me.
I want to shine a light on my people
and walk beside you.
Walk
towards a world of brothers.
THE BLUE STAR
Mauricio! You okay?
Coming.
Bravo!
Thank you very much.
You're in a clapping mood, despite my voice tonight...
Since you're in a clapping mood...
ZARAGOZA, SPAIN THE NINETIES
...let's hear a big hand for Miguel's vest.
Yes, sir.
Wonderful.
Sure, today we're presenting new songs,
he also had to present... that vest.
Because vests are coming back in style, right?
- He looks great. - Yeah, yeah.
Fashion is funny that way.
Isn't it?
I heard on TV the other day that smoking isn't cool anymore.
Okay, then.
We won't smoke anymore. What do I know?
What's cool now is...
techno. Yes, sir. That's right.
Techno is wonderful, you just don't understand it.
I'm a big fan of Don Quixote, and sometimes I think:
"Damn, what would Quixote think of techno?"
Seriously. More than techno and the chumba-chumba, I mean...
of how people hook up in a disco nowadays?
We all know, late night when you're desperate...
Quixote was wonderful at it, really.
The guy fell in love before he met the lady,
which I think is very noble on his part.
Sure, the object of his love would come later, right?
Dulcinea herself.
But the guy would stand on a bridge across from another knight
and make him swear that his lady was the fairest
and he hadn't met her, ladies and gentlemen.
Now that's love.
- Am I right? - Yes!
Nowadays it's like love is going in another direction.
It's like, I don't know, nowadays it's more like
a flea market, I need to see the merchandise before I love it.
The hamburger culture, right? Use it and throw it away.
Anyway, the skimpy version. Buddy...
Seriously, how many more photos are left in your roll?
You've already taken like thirty.
You make me feel like a landscape, I'm serious.
If you take photos the whole time, I don't know what I'm singing.
Sure, man. Do you take photos at a play?
Or in mass?
Can you imagine the priest with the cup and wafer and all that stuff
and people taking photos?
It's unacceptable. Well, the same goes here.
It's unacceptable.
I had lots of friends, all but two blew me off.
The first, tobacco. The second, this damn cough.
God didn't make the Earth for me to roam.
I'm nothing but a man without a home.
Riding down the road, at every crossing she will be...
hitchhiking, whistle her song and soon you'll see...
that girl named Solitude.
What the fuck? What is he doing?
His brother just went in to talk to him.
Really? Over a fucking photo?
The people from the record label must be flipping out.
He's using again.
Is he using again? Yes or no?
Shut up, man, you're a pain in the ass. Stop, already.
What's the problem?
I'm here, they're there, there's a wall that won't...
Okay, whatever.
Give me the guitar, I'll make the sacrifice for my little brother.
Look, I work in a fucking shoe store, you know?
You think playing "La Macarena" at a wedding
is fulfilling for me?
Tell me.
- No. - No.
The problem is you're an artist.
Right? That's it, isn't it?
Shorty.
Okay, sorry about that.
I had lots of friends, all but two blew me off.
The first, tobacco. The second, this damn cough.
I carry my home in the cab of my truck.
My load is distance and goodbye, goodbye.
I start with coffee, to get going, a cigarette.
Tango makes me remember, whiskey makes me forget.
God didn't make the Earth for me to roam.
I'm nothing but a shadow without a home.
What's wrong with me, Mara?
What are you doing, kiddo?
Hey, my little tiny thing, come to me.
I've made a decision.
When I grow up I want to be like Atahualpa Yupanqui.
That place was my silence.
Silence is a way to stop,
if possible, the pulse of thought
so that later one can fly.
A few steps from where I am,
there's a little spot I call "The Silence."
The temple I needed
to learn life,
world, Earth and constellations.
How did it go?
Did the people from the record label go?
Yeah, well, they were with Luis. I didn't even see them.
- You're not sleepy? - No.
A coworker was telling me
that the hand has connections to almost every organ.
And...
this spot is for going to sleep.
It's called "reflexology."
We should go to America, Ana.
They truly experience music there.
And with a different joy.
Before the mountain overshadowed Mother Earth...
Mauricio, did you take drugs?
What?
You're shooting up again. What's this dot of blood?
Damn, your pupils are tiny.
It was only once, I didn't buy any today.
My parents were right. I'm a fucking idiot.
Where are you going?
Fuck the whole rehab, fuck everything!
Here you go.
Thank you.
Bye.
ARGENTINA COSQUÍN FESTIVAL
Please, let's not crowd together.
Excuse me.
Anything by Atahualpa Yupanqui?
Let me see.
I had something around here.
A great singer.
He was also a great writer.
Spanish?
Huh? Me, yeah.
I was over there.
In Seville. Andalusians are nice.
We don't get many Spaniards here in the country.
- Coming or going? - Going, going.
Not staying for the festival?
I've already been a couple days.
And?
Not impressed, actually.
Why not?
A little too much cardboard for me.
- Cardboard? - Yeah, like with no soul.
"The Bible."
Where next?
Cerro Colorado, Yupanqui's house, in fact.
- How much is it? - 20 pesos.
You've been to the main stage, right?
Yes, I have.
For next time, the cantinas are nicer.
Hey, we should have left already!
What did you say?
The girl's ticket?
- What? - The girl's ticket?
- No, they don't pay. - Only one...
Come on, bro! Only one kid under five can ride without a ticket.
I've always traveled with both and never paid.
What?
I've always traveled with both...
Always, but not today.
He's not even two years old.
I don't think I have enough for another ticket.
Let her get on, brother!
I've got it, I've got it.
You have to buy at the ticket window. I'm sorry, we're late.
- But I can't lose my ticket. - I can't wait for you.
She wants to pay! Let her get on!
Stop, stop, stop, now.
Nobody's in a hurry!
Ma'am, it's okay. Get on the bus.
- Thank you very much. - Please!
Damn, bro. I hope you're a better bus driver than a person.
Come and say that to my face.
No, I can see you're very brave.
- Here, for you. - Thank you.
Thank you very much.
How can you leave him?
Thank you, brother!
Goddamn it!
My backpack.
Look, ma'am.
Wouldn't it make sense to call the station so they know
the backpack is coming?
But write something down, like an address or something.
Sir, I already told you we'll handle it. Next in line, please.
When's the next bus to Cerro?
- Tomorrow at the same time. - Tomorrow?
- One? - Yes.
You're not from around here, are you?
Not from Argentina, are you?
Did you notice because of my face, or because of how I said "yes"?
Because of everything.
- Have you got cigarettes inside? - I think so.
Thank you.
- May I? - Yes, go ahead.
- Mauricio. - Pleasure.
Evening, boss. Have you got cigarettes?
No.
Okay, give me a soda or something.
We only have fernet, beer and wine.
But people here mostly drink fernet.
And what are you drinking?
- Nothing. - Hey!
- My Spanish friend! - Hey.
What's up? How are you?
- Weren't you going to Yupanqui's house? - Yeah, but I missed the bus.
- Are you alone? - Yeah.
Come, come.
Have you got any cigarettes?
No, I don't. But here. Coca to chew.
No, I don't want any. Because of a pill I'm taking.
This is the best medicine!
After Cerro Colorado where are you going?
I don't know, I'll probably go to Chile.
I really like Violeta Parra and Víctor Jara.
Argentina isn't big enough for you?
Good evening.
We're going to sing some chacareras by my father,
Carlos Carabajal, the Father of the Chacarera,
I always come with him.
He didn't come this year, he stayed in Santiago,
resting...
Incredibly, he's never been asked to play the main stage,
I don't know why.
But all of his chacareras flow across that stage,
justice will definitely be done.
chacareras from Santiago. Anyone here from Santiago?
- Here! - The party is guaranteed.
Let's go!
I was struggling, far away from home.
Always in a hurry, never getting anywhere.
And what I was looking for was right there where I was born.
Friendship is gold, it can't be bought or sold,
It only happens when you feel it in your chest.
Not something to be used only when you need it.
This is how we make friends in this land.
With bread and maté in each hand.
The flower of modesty fills their homes like perfume.
My life is on loan and I have to return it.
When the Creator comes to claim it...
may my bones, skin and salt fertilize my homeland.
Second!
Go Santiago del Estero!
Singer stop singing if your verses say nothing.
To quiet the silence is the wrong choice.
Silence also sings with spirits in its voice.
Only a few will be able
to hear the voice of the gods
who circulate through the blood of our America,
dazzling and mysterious.
SANTIAGO DEL ESTERO BEWITCHED PROVINCE
...Argentina's biggest song festival.
We hereby inaugurate the fifth moon
on Cosquín's main stage
where Argentina's biggest artists...
Not the biggest, it's the same singers as every year.
...we have a huge crowd...
Wasn't there a match on today?
Since we're here,
why don't we talk about the late taxes?
I already told you, there's no news.
They pay song royalties every three months.
It's impossible until next month.
Excuse me, does Carlos Carabajal live here?
- That's me. - Nice to meet you.
Sorry to just show up like this, but I was with your son Demi
in Cosquín and he said I had to come and meet you.
Why do you talk so funny?
You don't know how hard this is for me.
When we grill meat in Spain the pieces are smaller.
We don't get a lot of Spaniards around here.
They're in the sky.
They fly from Buenos Aires to Iguazú.
Right.
Do you like Barcelona or Real Madrid?
I'm from Zaragoza, but I'm not a big football fan.
That was some goal at the cup, eh?
By the Argentinean.
Oh, right.
- Juan Eduardo Esnáider. - Yeah, yeah.
Tasty.
Mauricio, come here.
- May I? - Yes, yes.
Hey, don't play with the fire. You'll burn yourself
like Telesita.
So what happened to your suitcase?
Nothing, they said they have it. I told them
to send it to the terminal here, but I don't know.
Don't worry about it, we have clothing.
No, it's fine, I'll buy something.
No need to buy!
- Hi. Look. - Hi.
- He's Spanish. - Hi, how are you?
Mauricio is his name.
He says he's here to learn the chacarera.
Nice to meet you.
Oh, sorry, in Spain we kiss twice.
- I didn't know that. - I know that trick, eh?
- He's looking for "La Salamanca." - He says he was in Cosquín
in a cantina, heard Demi play and Demi rerouted his trip.
How's that?
No, I asked him about a song I loved and...
- "The Blue Star." - Yeah.
And he said if I liked folk music so much I should come to Santiago
to meet don Carlos. And here I am.
Good idea, only the trendy ones play in Cosquín.
They nicknamed Carlos
the Father of Chacarera here in Santiago.
Yeah, I can't get rid of that name.
I already have tons of kids and they credit me with one more.
Mauricio, do people in Spain know anything about the culture
here in Argentina?
Generally they think everything is like Buenos Aires.
Because of movies.
Once in Buenos Aires I ran into
two little girls and one said:
Why do you sound Argentinean if your face is Bolivian?
And the other said: "Hey, don't say that."
- Like she was offending you! - Exactly.
Mauricio.
Show me your guitar.
Watch out for the repo man, he's taking the guitar!
It's not my fault I have a shitty job!
It's not great, but...
It's the guitar my brother and I learned on. I think it sounds okay.
- Musicians in your family? - Well,
my brother. Yeah, my brother.
And on my mother's side, she's German, her father played the cello.
Play something for us.
No, I'm just here to learn and listen.
The Spaniard chickened out.
No, I don't know.
Okay, let's see if we accept
- the student. - Okay, let's see.
Guys, keep it down.
Okay...
Night is falling on me
in the middle of the afternoon.
I don't want to become a shadow,
I want to be light and stay.
I don't want to become a shadow,
I want to be light and stay.
I went burning in the night,
following the same path.
Always behind a guitar,
I turned off the last star.
Always behind a guitar,
I turned off the last star.
I don't know what luck I look for.
Oh, what a chimera.
What zamba took my sleep.
What night, my springtime.
I don't want to become a shadow,
I want to be light and stay.
Florsita.
He passed, huh?
You're a great "reacher."
- Is there a drum around there? - Yes.
Wine, Mauricio?
Oh, no, no.
You won't find "La Salamanca" drinking water.
Okay, I'm going to sing a song
by my brother Cuti
and a poet from here.
Here in this house, songs are like beds.
Whoever arrives first gets to keep it.
Who went through Icaño, there in Santiago?
Forgetting the forgotten countryside.
There in Santiago.
Where the moon rains its white trail.
There in Santiago.
Santiago del Estero to Rosario.
The endless mountain and neglect.
The poor people
waiting for death which sometimes comes.
Which sometimes comes.
So much land lost seems like a joke.
Uncultivated horizons, men without a fight.
But in Santiago
the coming days grow ripe.
The coming days.
Santiago del Estero to Rosario.
The endless mountain and neglect.
The poor people
waiting for death which sometimes comes.
Which sometimes comes.
No luck today either?
Life is hard for a romantic, my friend.
You bet.
- What time is it over there? - Five hours more.
You say the craziest things.
Hey, what nonsense!
Okay, see you tomorrow.
Have a good one, boss. Good luck.
In Spain are the kids
- the same as here? - Yeah, sure.
But they all live in the treetops.
Do you believe me or not?
No.
Hey, very cool drawing, I love it.
It's turning out great.
Is that you?
No, it's Telesita.
- Who is Telesita? - A little girl
who was very miraculous,
and who didn't have a mommy and daddy,
and she went to the festival
and when she went to dance,
she tripped, fell into the fire and got burned.
Wow.
We have parties for her,
people ask her for things and she gives them to them.
Did she really exist?
What?
Did the little girl really exist.
She exists.
- Okay, write it down. - Okay.
44.
32.
20.
24.
10.
Okay, let's see.
I can almost see the head.
The mate is ready.
- We have a spy. - I didn't want to disturb you.
Hey, come over here.
Very pretty song.
Yeah, Zita is putting me to work.
With no new songs, money isn't going to walk in the door.
And what was the number thing?
That's an invention of mine.
For example, 14 is the first string
and fourth fret.
That's a good one.
Well, how's that strum going?
I don't know, let's see.
Hi.
Okay, Mauricio.
The simple chacarera always starts in dominant.
Yeah, right.
I don't quite get if it starts already like this...
or like this.
What don't you get?
You're playing too flowery.
You're moving those fingers too much.
I'm going to confiscate the guitar, Mauricio, I'm sorry.
If I may.
The thing is, the strum in folklore
is not about understanding it.
It's like an accent.
It sticks to you.
If you try to copy it, it won't come out.
But if you stay here for a while you'll be talking like a local
without realizing.
It's better if you get used to the beat first
with the drum.
Feel the beat in your body.
Feel the vibe. When you've got it, I'll give you back the guitar.
Jeremías, show him how to play.
This is the basic beat.
And this is the other one.
- Good. - And the drum roll.
Very good.
- How about it? - Okay.
Let's see.
- Don't rush. - Oh, sorry.
Good, you're getting it.
Pops, when are we going to see Froilán?
Froilán is a craftsman who makes drums and has a lovely patio.
What a character!
One question: Am I the only one who burns himself drinking this?
Damn.
Did that sign say "Turtles and glass eyes for sale"?
There's one by my house that says:
"Photocopies, beef sandwiches
and burn treatment."
We need gas.
There's a gas station back there.
Well...
I left my money in my other pants and they don't know me here.
- I have money. - Don't worry about it.
I think we'll make it.
Look at the Sweet.
- The name of the river is Sweet? - "Mishky mayu."
"Mishky" sweet, "mayu" river.
Two guys from Santiago are crossing the Carretero Bridge,
one had a demijohn of wine in one hand
and a guitar in the other.
The one crossing says:
"Are you going to a party?"
"No, I'm moving."
Okay, a true "santiagueño" has to swim in the Sweet River.
We'll go and see the Indian another day.
Have you ever felt like
everything you write has lost its flair?
This is like with women.
The true conqueror isn't the one who gets women
after insisting a lot.
It's the one who gets them to come to him.
Yeah, sure.
And how do you do that?
You have to relax.
After that the songs come to you all by themselves.
Mauricio.
So you don't mind lending me some pesos for gas?
No, of course not.
- I'll pay you back in three days. - There's no need.
- Mauricio! - What is it?
- Come in the water! - No, I can't.
Yes, please, come!
I don't have a bathing suit! I'm not prepared.
What? Are you afraid of showing off my underwear?
Okay, then. Say no more.
Did you know that we Spaniards
turn into crocodiles in the water?
Here comes the crocodile
all the way from Spain!
He grips her in his jaws,
which, if I remember correctly, are similar to an Iberian wolf.
And, since you ask,
we're observing Florsita, the animalum chiquititum.
The white man is leaving
to take a walk.
Hi, crocodile.
Yeah, an albino crocodile.
We have a river like this one back home in my city too.
But nobody swims in it.
Why?
I don't know.
It's kind of gross.
It leaves you like new.
Mauricio, have you got a girlfriend back in Spain?
Ow, damn, there's something there.
No, nothing. River stuff, river stuff.
Well...
I don't know, really, I don't know if...
I've called home several times and...
nobody's answering, it's a little strange.
What do you mean?
Well, we were going through kind of a strange moment before I came.
Strange?
Yeah, I was...
a little depressed, but anyway...
Your grandfather infects you with his joy, that's what matters.
Well, you all do.
Your visit has been a good thing for him too.
He always has a rough few days during the Cosquín Festival.
We don't understand why they've never invited him.
He's being very generous with me.
Yeah, he's like that, sometimes too much.
You've seen that our house isn't exactly a normal house.
It was a bar before, right?
Yeah, a cantina.
Now that they're older they've stopped doing it,
but he always dreamed about his home being a place of music.
Zita told me about the mess with the roof and all that.
They were married for years with no sheets on their bed
because every peso that came in was for another chair.
And he almost never charged his friends anything.
He even organized a festival at a soccer field
to attract all the big names to sing in Santiago,
but he lost the money which would be the equivalent of three cars.
Because it rained every day and nobody forgave his debts.
When he calculated his losses, he said:
"Why do I want three cars if I only have two hands?"
Mauricio, how long are you going to stay here?
Well...
My return ticket is in ten days.
That's all?
I would delay it, really, but...
I can't, I have concerts.
Well, you're still here.
Trick four.
Trick three.
And finish it...
- Let's run away... - That's it!
Girl, to the sea.
There's no dawn in this city.
I don't know if I was born to run,
but I might have been born to gamble.
I can't give you my heart anymore.
I lost my bet on rock and roll.
I lost my bet.
It's the debt I have to pay back.
And giving up makes no sense anymore.
My heart beats.
Very good, man. Fucking awesome.
I'll tell you something.
There are several kinds of musicians:
bad ones, good ones, very good ones and sons of bitches.
And you, my friend, definitely belong to the sons of bitches category.
May your mother forgive me, she's a saint.
Hey, there!
- I see you found the house. - Yeah, I'm practically a local now.
If you were a local, you'd be taking a siesta.
- How are you, brother? - Great, great. Here playing.
Nice to see you.
So what's your plan for tonight?
Very cool riff, man.
I heard one the other day... How did it go?
How did it go, damn it.
"Silence sings with spirits in its voice."
That's incredible, man.
What a lyric.
Magic, Santiago magic.
And your father, for example, did he help you write when...?
You're too far away, come closer. I've never had a Spaniard in my bed.
- God... - Too much.
My dad is very simple.
He's simple, he'll say, for example:
When you write a chacarera,
think of God creating a person.
Head, body, legs.
The opening, the head. The verse, the body.
The chorus, the legs.
And you add rhythm which is the heart
and the melody is the soul and that's everything.
- You understand? - Yeah.
And he made everything easier for me.
Play one of your songs, Mauricio. Pass him the guitar.
No, no. After a song like that, I'll spare you my grief.
I'm too embarrassed.
- And his dad won't let me play the guitar. - I can't believe it!
I swear, he's forbidden me and I'm very obedient.
There was a bill here.
- Okay? - Yeah.
Are you famous over there?
More or less.
I love your accent. Will you talk to me here?
Talk to me up close.
- Talk to me up close. - No, thank you.
She's getting closer and closer.
Yeah, too much.
- There's no way out. - No, no.
Ever been with a girl from Santiago?
Actually, no, I haven't.
And?
There it is, there it is.
No, no, no.
- Can I buy tobacco around here? - Yeah, one block away.
- I'll go with you. - No, that's okay, I'll go alone.
- For some air. - Don't get lost.
- No, I'll be right back. - Don't get lost, Spaniard.
I'll be right back.
- See you in a few. - We'll be waiting.
Let's dance, Spaniard.
No, seriously...
Let's dance, let's dance.
Okay, I'm going, seriously. I'm going.
- Good evening. - Evening.
- Have you got cigarettes? - Yes, what brand?
Any brand you want.
Okay.
- Here you are. - Thank you.
- Thanks. - Thank you.
I'm leaving, man.
- Excuse me. - Yes?
Which way is Carlos Carabajal's house?
Straight down this street.
- Thank you. - You're welcome.
Mauricio, you know what?
I had a dream about you and Supay.
Who is Supay?
He's a devil who lives in a cave, but sometimes sneaks away.
And brings messages from the dead.
- Is he a bad devil? - Kind of.
He likes musicians.
And what did you dream?
He was teaching you how to play the drum,
you were talking a weird language
and I didn't understand anything.
"La Salamanca" is getting closer, eh?
Damn, you scared me!
Yes.
My mind was very far away.
You earned it.
Light of my dark nights, comfort for my loneliness.
Thank you very much, Mr. Miyagi.
After all the drumming, the pitch sounds higher.
It's not higher, you've started hearing more things.
We'd like some lemons and guitar strings.
- Or guitar strings and lemons. - No problem.
- I have it both ways. - Great.
- Which strings do you want? - The best for my friend Mauricio.
- But I'm paying. - No, no.
- I want to pay because... - No problem.
I'll charge you both.
Okay.
- Okay. - Anyway...
- Did you read the news? - No.
Let's see.
Hey!
"For me rock and roll
isn't a style, it's an attitude.
Carlos doesn't have a pompadour, but what he does is pure rock and roll."
Yes, sir.
"In Spain we feel true devotion
for the Father of the Chacarera,"
the artist said proudly."
What do you think?
What a liar!
"I only hope we can
organize a tour of Spain very soon
so that his many followers can enjoy
seeing him in the flesh."
- All that, man? - Very nice.
Carlitos, congratulations, buddy.
Can you believe they called me today
to play at the carnival in Atamisqui?
That's great. We'd better rehearse.
What do you mean, rehearse?
I need my car to work today.
It's a busy day.
No problem, brother. Take my car.
Carlos, I'd better go home to finish packing.
Okay, go.
See you after at the Indian's.
Every driver knows his cargo.
I need my car!
Hey.
Your mommy's looking for you.
She's crazy about you.
Look what a cool drawing she gave me to remember her by.
Do I fit in there too?
I'm glad you got it back just in time.
Yeah.
Although I was getting used to your grandfather's clothes.
You dress like a rocker but now you're a santiagueño in disguise.
- Are you staying in Buenos Aires? - No.
I want to go to Cerro Colorado to see Atahualpa's house.
So I'll get there just in time for my flight.
I never asked you where that passion came from.
You mean Yupanqui?
When I was a very young kid,
someone gave my mother an Atahualpa record with her detergent.
You're joking.
I swear, she chose his record over a record with Christmas carols.
We'd listen to it whenever my dad left the house.
Well, that and classical music. My crazy brother
only listened to classical music and we'd take turns.
Why whenever your father was gone?
Well, because... he didn't really like music.
In fact, when we turned 18, he informed us very nicely
that if we wanted to be musicians
we had to leave the nest.
So listening to don Ata
reminds me of how nice things were at home when we were alone.
Does your brother play with you in your band?
No, he plays in one of those bands who do covers by other groups.
Very good.
My brother is a real character.
He's super-gifted.
He taught me everything.
I remember I was...
three years old, he was five.
And I saw him crying while listening
to some classical music my mom had put on.
And my mom said:
"Pedrito, why are you crying?" And he said:
"Mom, it's so beautiful."
Does he write songs?
No, because if it's not as good as the Beatles
he thinks it's fucking crap.
He has no middle ground, he's like...
He's never said to me:
"Damn, bro, what a great song."
Never.
That's what he's like.
It's also true he never misses a concert. There he is, with his empty face...
Completely neutral, but...
he's always there.
And why was I talking about this?
I'm glad your mom didn't pick the Christmas carols.
- Absolutely. - Or you wouldn't be here.
Yeah, she's good at picking music.
But when she picked a husband, she won the lottery...
They got separated two years ago.
So everything is quieter.
I feel like now is when I'm getting to know her.
Anyway...
That's roughly the story of the Aznar Müllers.
And the moral is, Andrea, don't fall in love with a short man.
They're very difficult people.
It's not worth it.
I'm very sad that you're leaving.
Can I have my glasses?
What do you think? Nice, huh?
Damn, when you said the Indian's patio I imagined something smaller.
Luana's mother has gotten lost.
Her mommy is lost. Please leave your drink and come get her.
Indian!
- Indian. - Hey, Carlitos!
- How are you? - Fine.
- How are you? - Fine, fine, fine.
- It's good to see you. - Thank you.
Sorry, my friend Mauricio.
- What's up? - Mauricio, where are you from?
- Zaragoza, Spain. - Zaragoza, Spain.
- Welcome. - It's his last day in Santiago.
How nice when dreams sometimes come true.
An old train that left me in the station of my hometown.
And the sun burned me with its threads of fire.
Until I get home along the deserted path.
I'm beaten by memories that were life at one time.
And today I return with my dreams because I know they're not dead.
Here is where I left my dreams, where I left my hopes.
Wrapped in the longings that sometimes never come true.
But also the flame of faith that never goes out.
I return to sing to my people everything I'm feeling.
Those quiet siestas that smell like homemade bread.
I return to love my people, I return to say I love you.
Very pretty!
Today you can't get out of having a drink.
- Okay. - Cheers.
- Congratulations.
Now you're Mauricio Carabajal Müller.
- Take care of yourself. - And to Mother Earth.
Hey, Mauricio.
- We have to dance. - Dance? I'm too shy.
Come on. Why won't you dance?
In a little while.
What's the point in life of our laws and science?
If you have to choose between reason...
...the bottom of existence?
When we reach the bottom of existence...
The mystery of childhood has ignited on the fire.
Dance, Telesita.
Do you need help?
- Mauricio. - Hey.
You hold the guitar like a guitarrero now.
What?
When you first got here,
you held it with the neck pointed down.
Guitarrista.
And now with the neck pointed up. Guitarrero.
Good.
The Southern Cross is very bright tonight.
Which is it? I don't know which it is.
Well.
See those four stars that form a cross?
The one below,
the brightest, the smallest,
that one points
to the south.
Okay, okay.
In Spain we see different constellations.
I didn't realize until I came here.
It must be nice living over there.
Well,
yeah, it's nice.
But somehow I think you're better over here.
Yeah, even though things are tighter for you.
They say people from Santiago
feel nostalgia for Santiago before they leave.
Before they leave.
Hey, Carlos.
I have to tell you that before I came here I was not well.
And I have to thank you for what you've done for me.
- Don't mention it. - Well, yes.
You've made me remember
songs I hadn't sung in ages.
The truth is I've squeezed a lot out of you
without thinking twice.
I feel like an orange.
Did you get your flair back?
Well, let's see what the master says.
Okay.
It's for Telesita.
You found it.
Now you're going to leave a real man.
- Cheers. - Cheers.
No, I'll make a fool of myself, I'm an awful dancer.
Who cares?
We dedicate this song to our friend Mauricio!
Stay strong, Spaniard!
Now a chacarera: "Alma de rezabaile"!
First!
Come on, come on!
Follow me!
The dance has begun in Santiago del Estero.
Spin!
The whole jungle echoes with the beat of the drum.
Turn!
It's like a Jota!
Turn!
Stomp your feet!
Partying all night long to the sweet glow of the stars.
- Careful! - Oops, sorry.
Telesita danced, she was the dance, she was the queen.
Turn!
That's it!
Stomp again!
My God, this is piece of cake!
Look, look!
Let Telesita dance! Sweet and fragrant like a flower.
Last spin!
Shouted the people drunk with love.
Good, Mauricio!
What is my poor thing looking for? Maybe dancing comforts her.
Show me the turn.
Her skirt, a whirlwind, her bare feet, spinning fire.
That's it!
What a dancer!
- I've got it! - Perfect!
The dance floor is ours!
You've become country flower, the breeze that gives me aroma.
Andrea, I love you!
- What? - I love you like crazy!
And your girlfriend?
- I love her too! - Too cheeky!
Many years have passed but my people never forget you.
Dancing and praying that your soul will stay lit.
Let Telesita dance! Sweet and fragrant like a flower.
Shouted the people drunk with love.
And this is how boys and men
and crickets and guitars elevate their voices in the Argentinean night,
returning grace to the sky.
Poor is the man unaware of the beauty of song.
Life, the darkest, the most painful,
will always find comfort in song for its sadness.
CLOSED
- Hi, there! - Hello.
This is the Atahualpa Yupanqui museum, right?
Yeah.
- I came to visit it. - No, you can't.
We're doing repairs.
I don't know if you could make an exception...
I came all the way from Spain just for this and I have to leave tomorrow.
It would be very important for me.
I'm sorry, but I can't let you in.
But, man.
Can I see the yard? "The Silence," where he used to compose?
Hi.
Oh, my love, whoever could live in your thoughts.
Be the blood in your veins running through your body
and spend a lifetime...
- What are you doing, sir? - Sorry, you're absolutely right.
How about we go for a stroll? It's nearby.
I should be there already.
I know I sound crazy, but I can't get the idea out of my head.
I've got to do it.
- Were you able to write? - Yeah, but stuff from over there.
- From there? - Yeah, Argentinean stuff.
There's one I played
and they liked it, they thought it was good, it was very exciting.
I'd like to record them here, but record them right, because
the trip cleaned me out.
I can't go to the concert tomorrow
because they gave me tickets to see Michael Jackson.
Damn. Michael Jackson's playing in Zaragoza?
You're the only Spaniard who hasn't heard.
But we can talk soon and you can tell me all about it.
Of course, of course.
You look very pretty.
You too, you have a nice color.
- I took Rubidio, but left the fishbowl. - Okay.
Because I got a bigger one.
- Your keys. - No, keep the keys, really.
Just in case. I brought you a little gift.
A very sweet old lady made them. Handmade.
Pretty.
Look, Anita.
You are my North, the star of my destiny, I want to be with you.
I'm clean, I swear.
Cleaner than Christ's conscience.
I hadn't felt this good in ages, just wanting to love you.
- I want to be your family. - Mauricio.
I know I've said it before, but this time I really mean it.
Mauricio, I just want to have a normal life.
So do I.
Mauricio, you're the person with the least normal life I know.
I like you for who you are, but...
I'm not the same anymore.
But neither am I.
It's one second, you'll like it. Will you play it or not?
No, drop it.
This is awesome.
I like... Excuse me, eh? I like my chorizo from the supermarket.
I don't get that bullshit that chorizo made by an old lady in a small town
with grimy hands...
Look, when we play in small towns and they want to give us a conserve...
"This is great blood sausage, you'll see." And I say: "Look."
"Haven't you got anything with a plastic package?"
The pigs, all their shots...
- Pedro. - What's up?
Damn, shorty...
You know this bum?
What did you say?
- Do you know him. - Yes, I heard you.
Calm down. Calm down.
Let's take it easy.
I made a baroque mix tape and the bastard won't play it for me.
- Let's go home. - We're more into Beethoven.
- More into...? - Listen, come home.
I'll tell you about Argentina, I learned a lot.
Yeah, but let's have a drink, you and me, right now.
- I don't want one. - No, let's have a drink.
- Sit down. - I don't want one, Pedro.
- Do you mind? Yes? Okay. - I don't want one.
- Give me an anisette, okay? Sit down. - Pedro.
I have my guitar, let's go play. Don't be stubborn.
Give me some money. I'll drink one and fix this.
Can't you see that tape won't play? Don't you see?
And they'll never play baroque music here.
Are you going to fuck with me now too?
Don't give me this good person bullshit. You?
You're not interested in anyone.
Five hundred pesetas, damn it.
I just want to have one more fucking drink.
There!
Give me an anisette.
Here, I'll serve it.
Go to bed, shorty.
Give me the last one.
- Last one and sleep it off. - Yes...
"Blood sausage from home!"
Blood sausage...
Guys, tomorrow's another day.
They love it when you dedicate a song to them.
It gets them hard.
The people who listen to that kind of music,
which is the kind I play,
I'd make them build somewhere like the Valley of the Fallen.
But instead of a giant cross,
a giant Bach head.
Like the ones the Russians have of Lenin. Menacing.
That's what you get for dancing "Paquito el chocolatero."
You thought you could be a dumb ass your whole life...
Now you get the chain gang! And no bullfighting this year.
"Dedicate a song to my friend who's getting married!"
Will you shut up?
Let us do our job
and listen.
For once in your life.
This tape will never be played again.
Hi, Mauricio, how are you?
It's Enrique Bunbury from Héroes del Silencio.
I'd like to propose something.
I'll call you back. Big hug.
What's up, Mauri. Stop by the office, there's interesting news.
This characteristic has made the rice manufacturer...
...he was spotted at 7 PM.
You can imagine the customers' faces when they saw him pass
with his mask among the frozen...
He asked about our portable radio cassette players.
He asked if it had auto-reverse and I said no.
But then his manager said yes, that he would take it anyway.
Then he asked me if it worked with batteries.
Yeah, yeah. It was incredible.
- One, question, did he pay? - No, he didn't pay.
- Were you able to talk to him? - That I love him.
I imagined him a little whiter.
Is he how you imagined him?
He's even more perfect than I imagined.
He's very humble...
Little kids still crawling playing the violin.
I swear, they've got magic.
It wore off on me in the patio
playing the drum...
Let's get to the point, did you get laid or not?
- Next question. - Okay.
Can we add some nicotine here?
Let's go, everyone together. We'll film and check the lighting.
This song wasn't written to be heard on TV.
Since we got democracy, they'll give anyone a mike.
But there's ideology in beer too.
Children of Spain, turn off the TV and listen to your grandparents.
Come on, we're running late.
- Come on, the concert is starting. - What do you think I'm doing, clown?
Is there any better show
than ten empty beer mugs sitting in a row.
I worked the whole month, got to the bar and spent it.
How about if we drink tonight?
I want to drink,
drink with you, until I forget.
Tonight I'll fill myself with beer.
- Business man! - How was Madrid?
Great.
Give me the guitarist again.
Camera 1.
Zoom on the singer.
I want to drink, drink with you.
Hey!
Your attention, our manager here says
he brings good news.
Talk about it after, please.
We have one more band to test and the doors are opening.
Weekend all the way...
Hairdresser on Monday.
Good evening, Zaragoza.
Nice to finally be back home.
I told your father
how I found your brother the last time
and he says:
- "That bum..." - Spare me, Mom.
And you, son? How are you?
Fine, why?
It isn't exactly normal to show up at this hour.
It's never too late if luck is on your side, Mom.
How did the concert go?
Fine.
Fine?
Well...
We got offered a big contract for three records.
That's great, isn't it?
You'll love me the same if I don't sign, won't you?
Why not?
Nothing, we'll talk tomorrow.
Okay.
- Shall we pray? - Sure.
Our Father, who art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done...
I have to play the lottery too.
Damn, Héroes del Silencio sold half a million records only in Germany.
Maybe we should stop laughing at them and accept it.
Right.
- Here it is. - Okay, your masterpiece.
Name: Mauricio Aznar Müller. Marital status: Married?
Well, I'm in the process of reconquering.
Now that's what I call optimism.
Besides, that makes me sound serious.
Languages: Spanish, English?
- And German. - Knowing German is a plus.
Hey, at risk of sounding pragmatic,
which God knows I'm not,
couldn't you finish the tour,
make the money, spend it on whatever you want...
Get out of my friend, Satan!
Professional experience: Mailman, summer season.
Yeah.
Two years, waiter in a nightclub.
Ten years, singer in a rock and roll band.
I wouldn't even put this.
Stop hurting me, man.
Education: High school, junior year included.
Music theory.
A year and a half.
To end the resumé. A magnificent climax.
Music theory: A year... and a half.
What do I know, man. Maybe I should...
move out.
That would do it. I move in with my mom,
save what I make, in two months...
I can pay for their tickets.
I don't know, man.
I could get 200 or 300,000 pesetas for the Fender. Yes, I'll sell it.
What's the problem? All set.
Goddamn it.
I'll explain what we're going to do.
Since I'm retarded,
I'll give you the money, but you pay me back in two months.
I have to feed the little dictator.
Cream of the crop of loyal friends,
for this act, your name will be engraved in the Temple of Immortality.
- Don't tell Maribel, she'll castrate me. - Nothing.
This is a man who has understood the lyrics of that song that says:
"I walk the land, but my soul is in Santiago."
Hey, a letter from Mauricio!
"Dear don Carlos and family.
Pack your suitcases and passports.
I'll start tuning the guitars.
I'll be waiting for you and your wife at the airport in Madrid.
Your loyal godson."
Don't worry about anything, you'll stay at my home.
We'll sing anywhere there's an ear to hear us
and we'll record an album so that everyone knows
the Father of the Chacarera set foot on the Old Continent,
accompanied by his faithful squire, Mauricio Carabajal Müller.
This guitar is very special to me.
Don Carlos told me that
his father didn't want him to be a musician.
So before he left for work, he left his guitar out of tune.
That's what it was like. So, of course,
they didn't have these tuning devices back then,
and Carlos discovered
that the train whistle was tuned to "mi."
It takes a good ear.
So when the train passed, wherever he was,
he would tune his guitar at the train tracks.
He's coming over soon and you'll see for yourselves what a maestro he is.
We're going to play concerts together and make a record, God willing.
Play some rock and roll already, bigmouth!
Hey, that's enough. Take it easy.
So what was I saying?
The train.
The train. Thank you, Miss.
Anyway, over in Santiago,
lots of songs talk about their myths and legends.
I mean, people believe in miracles. Not like here,
where fables are only for kids. No, there, fables...
- You quit Más Birras for this? - That's enough.
Buddy!
I'm going to tell you something, if I may.
I think...
whiskey will help you get over it.
- Don't bust my balls! - That's enough, get out.
- Get lost. - Let there be peace.
One less.
That's right.
He asked the saintly girl to help with his poverty
to cheer up his soul, sick with sadness
and between every swig plays the chacarera.
A helpless light has ignited on the fire.
Dance, Telesita, we have plenty of pain.
Light a flame in all our hearts.
Crazy and blind butterfly that burned between candles.
Mountain fireflies watch over her blessed soul
and fly so that she will never dance alone.
- It was great, wasn't it? - Well, it could have been a little better.
- Take a look. - Come on, man.
Jesus only had 12 apostles at first, and look how far they went.
But Jesus wasn't trying to sell drinks.
Right.
You man of little faith and vision.
- Mauricio. - Hey.
Isn't it rude to keep your favorite ex here waiting?
Don't play hard to get with me.
You got super nervous when you saw me.
What?
I don't know...
What?
- We know how this movie ends. - No.
Really, no.
I've changed.
I've been clean for a while.
Tell me you haven't thought about me every time you screwed someone else.
I don't know.
And...
I'm going to the bathroom.
Excuse me, Mauricio Aznar?
- Yeah, what's up? - Come with us, please.
What's going on?
Give me my jacket.
What's wrong?
My brother is dead.
- What? - My brother is dead.
- What's up, Mauri? - Hey, what's up.
- Looking spiffy. - Yeah, I had a family event.
That's why I called to change the appointment.
Yeah, this week there was no way, sorry.
I listened to what you gave me and I loved it.
So authentic. All I knew from Argentina was tango.
Yeah, we have no idea what's over there. It blew me away.
Totally.
Let's jump right in because we're having a shitty day.
I'm going to schedule you. And City Hall also has to...
It's our duty to support these things, okay?
On the other hand, of course, for the big days, for the big spaces,
they demand things for a wider audience.
- But we'll find somewhere cool. - Wait, hold on.
Why don't you see it for a wider audience?
- They fill stadiums in Argentina with this. - Yeah, sure.
Obviously, in Argentina.
- I mean... - Look.
Don't you think...? I mean, I think the fact that
October 12th is Zaragoza's Patron Day
and also Columbus Day... That's a crazy coincidence, right?
Alberto, I think we have a responsibility
to do something like this, brotherhood with Latin America
and highlight its importance. In Pilar Square.
Yes?
Did they come or did you go there?
Give me five minutes. Okay.
Bye.
We'll schedule it, we'll find somewhere.
Alberto,
in 20 years they'll make a movie about this moment.
And you have the chance to do something
that will change the course of history and close wounds with Latin America.
That will make us brothers.
I'm talking about something of cosmic importance.
I'm going to die in three scenes
and you'll be the civil servant who washed his hands.
You're going to regret it.
Very much.
So if we do this, are you freelance or how would we bill it?
I don't know.
The day I go to The Silence,
I'd like to become anonymous.
Somebody unknown,
without a name, without an image. Who wrote it?
I don't know.
I would like to some day be
that "I don't know." Yes, I would like that.
What's up, man?
Meet for a drink or what?
No.
Oh, okay. No, I didn't look.
Okay, then. Should I stop by the shop tomorrow?
Fine, fine, I'm still whole.
Okay, then.
Give Maribel a kiss for me.
Okay, bye.
Hi, son.
Let me know if you're coming to lunch tomorrow
so I can pick what to make.
Hi, Mauricio. Look, I know this is a bad time, but...
we have to talk because there's a problem
because of the two concerts we cancelled. Call me when you can.
Mauricio. I heard about Pedro.
I don't know what to say, really.
I'll call you later. Kiss.
Hi, Mauricio, how are you? It's Enrique Bunbury.
I keep missing you.
We're leaving for Germany on tour tomorrow so I'll fill you in.
I wanted to ask you for permission
to do a cover of "Bet on Rock and Roll" with Héroes.
You know we love it and we'd like to play it on tour
and also put it on a record.
It would be the only cover we've done,
so let us know what you think.
Pito, our manager will call you to talk about money.
Don't hold back, we'll be fine with whatever you decide.
I'll talk to Gabriel about it too.
I hope you're okay.
I heard you were in Argentina, I'm looking forward to hearing about it.
Anyway, big hug.
Hello.
- Give me a whiskey on the rocks. - Which one?
Which is your best?
- This one? - Okay.
No, wait. Make it an anisette.
Thank you.
Mauricio!
Mauricio, we can hear the TV!
We've been calling you for two days!
We're with Ana. We're coming in, we have keys.
Mauricio, we're coming in, okay?
Mauricio!
He's cold. He's cold.
Don't touch him, don't touch him...
God...
Fuck!
Goddamn it!
Police, can I help you?
Hi, look, we entered a friend's apartment and he's dead.
Are you sure he's dead?
Yes.
Give me the address, please.
22 de Junio number 12, apartment 3-I.
- Okay, we're on our way. - Thank you.
SONGS
His mother... How the fuck do we tell his mother?
Forgive me...
YEAR 2020
CASTING THE BLUE STAR
33?
He's very young, isn't he?
Yeah.
Are we ready, Claudia?
Yeah, the next one's coming in and 33 is already in the waiting room.
Okay.
Hello.
I'm María, the casting director. Javier,
the director, and Gabriel, Mauricio's best friend.
THE SONG OF THE WIND BY ATAHUALPA YUPANQUI
What we're going to ask you is kind of special.
Just let yourself go without thinking too much.
Do you know anything about Mauricio's story?
Yes.
Did you know his brother died a few days before him?
Yes.
Okay, I don't know, this might sound crazy,
but I've interviewed several people who say
that when Mauricio died, in the following days,
he appeared before them, both him and his brother.
So, believe it or not, we ask you not to tell, okay? Please.
Okay, then.
We're going to ask you to please stand up.
Let's imagine you're Mauricio.
You're in...
You just died,
you're in a kind of limbo,
and you're going to receive a visit.
We don't want you to force anything,
only talk if you feel like Mauricio is the one talking.
Go ahead.
What's up, shorty?
Man, I don't know whether to hug you or punch you.
Same to you, bastard.
EPILOGUE
It's impossible to know if Mauricio wanted to die or it was an accident.
It was a woman, in Argentina, in fact,
who made me see that it didn't even matter.
She said: "We're not the ones walking towards death.
It's death walking towards us."
You die when your time comes, it's destiny.
In all of America we see death differently.
We celebrate it here. Death is a celebration.
Something burns to create light again.
You pick a flower so that another flower blossoms.
We're here for him now.
Sure, what's curious about him
is he could have been famous and chose not to be
and how Mauricio's story affects other people.
What was it like for you, as protagonists of the original story,
later playing yourselves
and reliving the whole story?
Playing myself in that role
brings back a lot of nice memories.
When he came over to me to show me
his admiration...
which led to all of this we're doing,
it's hard to believe.
Seeing Mauricio walk in is something I'll never forget.
I remember I was her age when he got here.
He watched everything so closely,
the children, the people, actually, in general.
I remember you told me once
that you saw Mauricio dance.
He had so much fun.
He was like a little boy, dancing and having so much fun.
He was playing the drum
and he was getting closer
to "La Salamanca" with his beat, the wind kicked up
and that was when we knew
that he had found it.
Do you remember when news arrived
that he had died, how it felt...?
The first thing he did was grab the guitar
and remember all the songs he had played with Mauricio.
It was almost like, with the guitar
and the songs he shared, it was a release.
I think it was not to cry.
So we stayed quiet, nobody said anything, but he played by himself.
There's a magical side too, you know?
There's a song he wrote that really struck me.
It's like he's literally talking about his death. At a time that
he couldn't have imagined
that was going to happen.
"If the earth calls me, beating to my death,
old, mature verses will watch over my heart.
From the land of oblivion, I came to deliver my pain.
Flag of distance, I'm a handkerchief waving goodbye.
I walk the long night, but I walk towards love."
This is Mauricio's real guitar, be careful with it.
Your attention, focus, everyone. We have the two last shots
- of the movie. - One moment, please...
Are you recording?
Joa, give him the headset too.
I want to propose a toast.
To our Spanish brothers,
to "The Blue Star"
and to me getting the Oscar for Best Actor!
- Best Soundtrack is a lock. - It's in the bag, yes!
Cheers!
- Come on, damn it! - Cheers!
There it is, let's go.
Okay, one minute, please.
We want to sing a chacarera for Mauricio.
He wrote it. "So She Won't Dance Alone."
Shall we?
With joy!
In the sunset clouds a prayer has lit up.
Old and salt-encrusted pagan rituals.
Don't hold back!
The pilgrim calls out to begin the dance.
Let the dance begin, ladies and gentlemen!
Come on, let's dance!
Spanish dancers!
The hair stylist!
He asked the holy girl to help him in his poverty.
To cheer up his soul,
which has grown sick with sadness.
Between every drink plays a chacarera.
You couldn't leave without dancing!
So you never forget this land!
Let's go!
The mystery of childhood has ignited on the fire.
Dance, Telesita.
We have too much pain.
Set every heart aflame.
Crazy and blind butterfly that burned in the candles.
Mountain fireflies
watch over her blessed soul
and fly away so she won't dance alone.
Inside!
In the night of your eyes...
TO THE ANONYMOUS STARS
...like a windmill, where lives the miracle.
Let people dance the chacarera in movie theaters around the world!
What's the point in life of all our laws and science?
If we have to choose between reason and innocence,
Which will mean more to our existence?
A forsaken light has ignited on the fire.
Dance, Telesita. We have too much pain.
Set every heart aflame.
Crazy and blind butterfly that burned in the candles.
Mountain fireflies watch over her blessed soul
and fly away so she won't dance alone.
Hello.
Hello, testing.
Mauricio Aznar has never had a bigger audience.
Ladies and gentlemen, "Bet on Rock and Roll."
I can't give you my heart anymore.
I'll go anywhere my boots want.
And if you want me to tell you what you need to do,
I'll tell you to bet on my defeat.
Take off your clothes, that's fine.
Don't leave anything undone.
If you've come to buy me, go away.
If you're coming with me, hold on tight.
Let's run away...
Girl, to the sea.
There's no dawn in this city.
I don't know if I was born to run,
but I might have been born to gamble.
I know nothing else will happen.
But I'm against the ropes now.
I don't see a single way out.
But I'm going to bet big while I can.
Let's run away...
Girl, to the sea.
There's no dawn in this city.
I don't know if I was born to run,
but I might have been born to gamble.
I can't give you my heart anymore.
I lost my bet on rock and roll.
It's the debt I have to pay back.
And giving up makes no sense anymore.
Oh, no.
My heart beats.