Fernando Samalea and Dermis Tatu in Argentina

Social networks, leisure, tedium and surprises. A trivial walk through Facebook there may be good ideas, or one can be learned from good stories, such as that narrated the Argentine drummer Fernando Samalea in their profile, which tells how was his relationship with the Venezuelan band Dermis Tatu during the visit musicians to Argentina.

Here we share the text published by Samalea:

... After numerous mailing letters arrived from Caracas Dermis Tatu's friends, determined to the core to write his "Argentine chapter". It was November 1993. As we agreed, the doorbell rang early in the morning. Troconis, Castillo y Araujo not only brought their bags, but also a few instruments. Battery included! I'd slept with me for a couple of hours and went down the hall to open up like a zombie. I just closed my door Street San Jose, I received the embrace of Cayayo. While almost one directly on my ear, his sentence left me momentarily deafened:

-¡Pana Forgot guitar in the bar!

He had noticed that one of his two guitars, the prized Les Paul Sumburst, had been the bar on the same street 100, near Avenida de Mayo, where they had phoned me. To make matters worse, I was in a double case with low Hector. The rest we looked incredulous:

I -¿¿¿Quééé ???

There was no time to lose and ran the ten blocks that separated us from the place. Agitated and breathless, staccato voices and contramano transit through the hot morning, we were catching up in terms of news.

-¡Coño, What ladilla! He bellowed Sebastian.

Hey, dude, Sama ... uffff ...

You do not know, corduroy, we came by bus from the airport. We left near the Plaza de Constitution and from there rode a taxi with a driver who looked like a serial murderer. What a place full of transvestites! ' Said Cayayo.

'Everything all right with the disc? Hey, ugh, and how is Caracas? uf, hey, look what Zoca and Victoria are still sleeping ... What good are here!

Luckily, the cafe owner was a decent man and said the guitar as soon as we stopped the march at the bar. He had saved askance at the kiosk next door, waiting for his Venezuelan artist who embraced the case with a retrospective smile.

My loft was already a community shelter. Then there were the three cats, alternating ceilings and cushions: Yuki, Lagrimita and El Cabezon. The neighborhood, not just a select style, brought a spicy halo. They enjoyed the marginal air.

As if this were not enough, four or five days joined the lovely Claudia Larraguibel girlfriend Hector, who crossed the long corridor bag in hand and just arrived from Santiago de Chile, while "carajitos" we climbed roofs and cornices instruments used, surrounded by embattled cats that looked at us askance.

-¡Verga, This is pinga! Cayayo cried with acoustic guitar on his knee, touching songs in the open, pen and notebook by.

Cohabitation was of wonders. We used to eat pasta tomato sauce and boiled or go to the buffets of the area chicken, when hunger was attacked and not feel like cooking.

Come and have comel Chinese food veldadela -ofreció Nancy, the Chinese lady from a nearby Free Fork, receiving us in her small apartment.

Before long, loving Venezuelans much of the Buenos Aires moved won. I introduced to Pablo Sbaraglia, in the house of Hilda Lizarazu Street Honduras, the night we played a radio with Man Ray, and even got a show in San Martín de los Andes as if by magic, boarding a bus for over 20 hours. There offered two concerts, one at a pier in front of a heavenly lake, which is accessed by boat, and another in a pub. Patagonia's bewitched.

Upon return, they were presented with acceptance Prix D'Ami jams and The Roxy, alternating instruments Charly, Fito or Medina. They were in no doubt. Roxy agreed in touch every Thursday and powerful set never started before 4 thirty in the morning.

Touring clubs like Abasto dragon or another after they opened at six o'clock in Federico Lacroze almost Alvarez Thomas. In place he had worked the Argos Cinema and its windows were painted black, as well as how much wall, floor or ceiling was left to the sight. Some scraped glasses service to come different shapes and sunlight from the street, creating a climate of mystery, crowned by ghostly faces from beyond the grave.

Also they frequented the group of girls Mata Violet, Erica Garcia and Flopa, plus Maria Gabriela Epumer. The meetings in the attic of Constitution were current as well as going to the movies or tanguearías, with tango dancers featured as hip flask. The tiny dancer used to visit at San Jose. Particular character, wore striped shirts and high - waisted trousers, also hold gold chains and bracelets.

What a good that chain. It is a Christ, right? Hector asked one night on the couch.

Ma did Christ ... Take a good look! ...

It was the sphinx of a woman whose feet were a sinkhole like a coffee spoon, ideal for taking cocaine slyly.

With Dermis we attended concerts Divided, one of Black Garcia Lopez at a downtown bar and Ricotta Los Redonditos the Hurricane Stadium, where Paul took us almost at gunpoint. LOBO presented loose, tied lamb in that area of Parque Patricios. We entered without tickets, mixed youth pushed and pulled down huge doors as a conquest, as in a film of the Middle Ages. The devotion of his audience was amazing and we had never seen anything like it . They were promoted by word of mouth and concerts absolutely out of the system.

Another good friend, Andrea Lambertini, the often walked in his gray Ford Taunus, leading to its elegant family home in La Horqueta, to counter the dubious charisma of our neighborhood. We also went night for dinner or pasta Corrientes Pippo restaurant in Montevideo street. Endearing Venezuelans were amazed that you could buy books, magazines, videos or discs at three o'clock in the morning.

-Coño, Look what I arrecho ... sell comics and are also open to the public all night-shouted Hector, surprised at the windows.

He bought quantities.

They liked to observe the number of boys and girls who filled the streets and the wild parties until noon, style sacred cows, which were organized on a beach of Olives.

Amid the turmoil, I turned 30 years. But nothing did believe that was going to change my lifestyle.

The sisters Pelzmajer -Marianela and Paola-, and the sisters Francisca and Alejandra Lopez, frequented the department Charly, although minors. That year, egresarían of a majestic building of the nineteenth century, in Bolivar 263. With ingenuity and good intentions, Colegio Nacional Buenos Aires proposed us playing incognito in the celebration of December 11, 1993, in the courtyard itself. Dispondríamos instruments other groups of students. It sounded to glory!

Come on, we enter our star, hidden in the crowd, and we settled in to wait on one of those centenarians classrooms, worthy of film HARRY POTTER. After the set of "The lame Lake Logan", the student group, opened the game the Tatu Dermis, accompanied by the saxophone Willy Crook, wearing suggestive cap, on a stage set up with a huge flag of the Student Center behind.

The atmosphere was served to Garcia lunges with his devastating repertoire, before a student who can not stop clapping his presence. Everyone seemed happy and night morphed into delirium, crowned with spittle hanging ended mango Cayayo Stratocaster, who had committed unconsciousness lend it to Charly for his performance.

-¡Coño Mother, this trickles something weird!

(Excerpt from the book What is a Long Play. In the picture, Charly, Willy Crook, the Tatu Dermis and a server)