Signs of life
(A subjective point of view)
I
5754 of the Jewish calendar.
Nahui toxtli of the Mexica's or something like that.
1994 of the Gregorian in brief words.
Indigenous rebellion in Chiapas, the departure of the first world dream, expense National Free Trade Agreement in with many seem to believe, elections, political assassinations, rumors, plot, drug traffic, a new woman in my life who responds to a name of the past: Illiana.
México, awakes, goes on.
The story of mine goes the same: strings and bars. Some boleros, Chava Flores and some more Rock (urban mostly). The duty of being host and clown in front of a bunch of people whom doesn't mean anything to me and –as a matter a fact- they don't care a shit about my job. The money isn’t too much but I make a living.
In the middle of the year I meet up with Juan Carlos Briones in a rock concert in with both performed. His band has disintegrated; mine –on the contrary-, claims to survive a complicated delivery.
It won't.
We talk about working a band without musical prejudices and deeply experimental. To get into musical codes, the excesses, the blow out words. Further on would concert three or four calls with vague results.
Despite of all, it's a beginning.
II
Illiana moves in my house in seek of company; the sheets of the calendar won't have changed months when she's gone.
Following my pathological behavior among the names I invite another Juan Carlos –surname Berdón– to temporary join the band. He still was the guitar player from the band I left. The freedom almost anarchy, about the music we execute, would end up hopelessly joining together us, at least for a while.
Full bars, sometimes yes, sometimes not. Get crowd of muttering while I sing. It's because the money that I’ve get used to do this, nothing else.
The band’s music starts its definition: progressive rock. The rhythmically and harmonically changes that drive us (evolutionists) towards the unexpected. The pleasure of the unpredictable. Rehearsals that last up to 4 or 5 hours until we get tired out: enough therapy.
III
September the 15th, 1994, a –ret– effervescent scene of Puebla's rock, would gaze the birth of the group Hongo Psilocybe Mexicana toward public life. About 50 people more or less, did listen to the sound, the silence and even the politician watchwords that would identify the group for the following two years.
The ideological questioner about the recent events was one of my continual concerns: does a rock band have the need of commitment? Is it just music and fun? Is it because far away from the “real activismâ€, they (the audience) and I (the musician) have a few ideas in common? Is it useful?
In opposition, our new musical position doesn't seem to show any conflict: we're a good team which like to perform complex acts, for the pleasure of the music and the execution; in other words we tried to transgress self indulgence space, the fame and success, if it comes to be, must be a direct consequence of it and not on the opposite; remarkable belief from my point of view.
Would the three of us agree?
IV
Psilocybe Mexicana: scientific name for the magic mushrooms of the region of Huatla de Jiménez, from Oaxaca. The drug produces, in the individual's mind of the consumer a disorder perception of the surroundings, perhaps the same “realityâ€? Magic and religion. Syncretism. Entheogens, “The meal of the godsâ€, in the words of Gordon Wasson.
V
The singleness of the phenomenon Hongo; from the experience among the musical creation, there's our personalities, environment and consequently our dissimilar problems that converge in the music. Mirror of angels and demons, fears and hope, particularly taste about progressive music, the jazz, metal and even new age. The consequence of this singular mixture, and as it strange, is careless important the total for the current union.
There exist –of course- recognizable and undeniable influences, which nevertheless procure an expression of ours. Simple premise: experience and assimilation.
Explosion.
Implosion.
Improvisation.
It praised be.
VI
In occasions, musical experimentation goes on frontiers, is then that body; pitcher and recipient of the person, the soul – would say mystics- transforms in a laboratory, and the individual – conscious or unconsciously – throws oneself to emptiness, giving in the mazes of subconscious in a searching for answers or abandon, happiness or pain.
Juan Carlos Berdón exceeded the limits - and somehow- He auto-excluded from the band.
And turning back to obscurantism, to the Methodist and Medieval Times.
By those days I am invited to participate in a covers band. Tired of lonely troubadour routine and looking for extra money, I decide to accept. Juan Carlos Briones forms a fickle band. (“chuchanquero†I mean.) One of those that make parties pleasant.
I feel the ending.
VII
In Strata (my new group and parallel project as Hongo) I meet Olinto Montiel, almost legendary guitar player in Puebla – as I would know later -. After some practicing; where shyness goes ceding to show our true masks, I shock about his ability and his good taste, as shocked as his kilometric solos.
During shows, we all wonder – in the most hermetic silence- when is he going to stop? At that time, I still couldn't imagine all the stories that destiny provides to us together.
Hongo's crisis is evident, Berdón doesn't reply our calls and when he does, we wait during hours in vain. We plan to record not professionally the songs and look for a new guitar player; however, the prevailed situation makes us think in impossible.
VIII
My new love, my friend besides, confident and formidable hugger when the situation calls for it, she's called Darine. Doesn't stop to amaze me the celibacy I kept for practically one year.
In spite of the certainty that a sexual contact between us would never happen; no matter how many times I have erections.
Someway or another, loneliness. Desolation, expands to all moments that I am not beside her or playing in a band, in vain common situation during those days.
Alcohol flows constantly by my blood torrent, depression looks like is getting chronic. Outside it rains. At nights and until early morning, I write an autobiography novel as a psychoanalysis way.
I have no friends, or at least, I feel them far away.
Emptiness bores me...
IX
A friend tells us there are possibilities of going to Cancún and play with Strata.
December 1995, we smile. Habituated to mirages of daily life that a musician faces, we need facts. A month later, we receive the confirmation. In some way Caribbean represents three things to all: money, women and a wonderful beach; probably in that order.
Disappointment would come later...
I talk with Juan Carlos. Berdón is still disappeared.
Money, the opportunity; we'll see on my returning.
A day before departure, I quit my celibate with some small breasts and a wonderful ass. Unforgettable. As the rythmin of bolero and Luis Alcaraz: Pretty as those toys...
My Caribbean stay extends for seven months.
Hongo sleeps
X
Cancún: place of snakes.
Hostile city.
Land of no one.
Country without arm.
XI
On September 1996, after singing on a ship merengue, reggae and cumbias, on my returning from Cancún, I receive a phone call of some friends who I formed –years ago - a pretty dysfunctional society, to install audio crew.
They want my service.
Hongo shakes.
On October I re-active contact with Juan Carlos. He comments his experience with a band called “La Mamá de Adán†(Adan's mother), form recent disappearance.
I ask him if he knows something about Berdón. He is still in trouble. We rescued some practically inaudible tapes and I talk to Olinto. He is not sure, he wants to quit music. At last he decides, he talks about the band as a hobby. We, take the bet.
Hongo shakes...
XII
The dialogue between Darine and me has been lost with distance and time; I assume with resignation and happiness the character: I’m a mushroom.
Olinto enters the band. His style is – definitively – very different form Juan Carlos Berdón's, distortions based on chords (musically more ample about their color and texture) and a more harmonic and re-structured thought. Brings itself a series of ideas to modify songs; it needs - by other hand – some concretion from our part for extremely volatile sections of our last project.
Music starts to acquire a different dimension, without losing its progressive spirit: it renovates. The coupling is natural, it seems like we have been playing years together.
The re-apparition of the band has place On November 11th, 1996 in a bar of Cholula called “Cartujosâ€. The answer from the audience is, more than warm, comfortable.
Olinto is surprised because this kind of music is not really popular accepted around here. Now is not just a hobby, he is with us.
XIII
After many intense talks where we discuss about the inclusion of the other two members, a vocal and a keyboard player, we decide that we can get an interesting work vocal level with no one else in the band. By other hand, the keyboard player represents the opportunity to enrich harmony the work of the band and project some atmospheres that we believe necessary for it.
Decision: We wait until we find someone with the ability to fulfill our expectations and that doesn't seem a conflictive guy.
December 1998, we found him.
In Fugazzi Rock Bar, a small place – for almost 100 people – had place a contest where we were invited as jury. The band: Santo CavernÃcola (Saint Cave-man), same that caused in us a great impression, when they played the same covers of Frank Zappa and Vandergraf Generator, music with a lot of progressive shades of 70's. At the end of eliminatory, we talked with the keyboard player: Marco Castillo and a new project goes on...
Later we will say – we are sure - that Hongo revitalizes.
Me, at the mercy of dysfunctional of society with my pals, I have decided to enlarge the unemployment lines. I hope to find a job in the near future.
XIV
Abandoning the romantic idea of transformation of the World by some chords and words and assuming that the change is an implicit decision and decidedly personal, I must clear that phrases and notes follow something: necessity of expression – wrong or not – of four individuals with an instrument on their hand. Further than obviations, the decodification and assimilation of the message are not our responsibility, even when our points of view coincide in occasions with yours.
Truth is, the expressed in words and music by the band corresponds or agrees to a subjective and particular vision of the World, even if it’s correct.
I smile when I say it, the concrete fact is that Hongo makes music, the rest is in psychology, sociology and academic territory in general, included Hollywood of course.
We need to project ourselves, not because of our ego but because we believe in music, as a life option that; prey of a mercantilist society, needs to trade.
Unfortunately.
Our look, still assumed from the art’s point of view, needs it. We believe in this and we hope for the arrival of a miracle. Maybe tomorrow, may be...
