2024-04-14 03:01:00
In March of last year, Virus played for the first time at Luna Park. Although the collective unconscious assumed that the band performed there with Federico Moura in life, it is logical that at this point so much data accumulated on the hard drive causes confusion with the stage Sanitary Works. In that other temple of Argentine rock, the people of La Plata not only achieved consecration, but also recorded his first live album: Vivo (1986). Before putting body and mind into action, once again, the three members of the original lineup announced that this show in Bouchard and Corrientes would be part of their new tour. However, It was not very clear if it was a farewell or a celebration of 40 years of its creation.
During that presentation, which had as a precedent a handful of recitals in 2022 after seven years of ostracism, this new incarnation of Virus ran through his songbook through two blocks with no apparent narrative. Beyond alternating hits with classics, plus some dusted rarities. That’s why his story jumped around in time constantly. If in the first segment the guest was Manuel Moretti (to do “I can program myself”), in the second it was Benito Cerati (sang “The tester”). They also invoked their eternal frontman on a couple of occasions. Through the screens, appealing to the resource of featuring that urban music left behind, Federico performed “Happy Bliss” and “You have to get out of the inner hole.”
A month later, they began to refine the show and repertoire proposal. This happened at the same time Marcelo Moura the vocal role was shared with Julio Moura, who showed that not only is he a great viola player, but he also knows how to get under the skin of those stories that deal with transgression, provocation, eroticism and debauchery. As timeless as they are current. After appealing to the heuristic method (the one that professes “trial and error”), Virus redoubled the bet and he got on the mass train by putting tickets for his first Movistar Arena on sale. On the public road that circulated through Buenos Aires, one could also read that this only function would serve to register its new live album.
Marcelo warned him again, shortly after starting the show on the rainy night of last Friday. This time they had as a guest Fernando Samalea on the bandoneon, in “Surfaces of pleasure”, although the recital dynamics that they had been showing were maintained. After the musicians accompanying them appeared on stage (Ariel Naón on bass, keyboards and backing vocals, Patricio Fontana on keyboards, and Agustín Ferro on guitar and backing vocals), the drummer burst in Mario Serra, followed by Julio and Marcelo Moura. The first block started with “Plastic Man”, a song included in his first album, Denial Denial. Then Marcelo gave the lead voice to Julio to take charge of “Ausencia”.
In the midst of this give and take, “I Take What I Find” emerged, starring the first emotional outburst of a packed stadium. While “Give me a signal” incited the initial “olé, olé”, as well as the only passage of the show in which that crowd accompanied the nostalgia with the lights of their cell phones. Next, “Love or Deal” paved the way for a trident of great songs: “Circular destiny”, “In my garage” (he got people out of their seats) and “The banquet”, an ode to the irony born in the Malvinas War. Although that song called them frivolous, Roberto Jacoby, the brain behind the band’s lyrics, achieved what even today very few national artists can achieve: take over the art of confusion.
Although Julio intensified that new wave with his viola, this return of Virus respects, at least musically, themes that in themselves are perfect. And they even maintained that in a medley of which “Se zarpó” and “Bandas chantas scratch the nothingness” stood out. After a brief interlude, the group returned with Federico singing on the screen the sublime techno pop “Encuentro en el río musical”, which had as aesthetic henchmen “Sin disguise” and “Amor disposable”, where the three Mouras joined voices. The frenzy was unleashed by “Pagan Images”, a prelude to a raid de hits made up of “You have to get out of the inner hole” and Wadu wadu”. When “Prompt Delivery” began the encore, a man from the audience said wistfully: “What a good time.”