For many was the year of Mecano. They published Between Heaven and Earth and all those people we despised turned them into gods. We were starting to have fuzz on our mustaches and we just knew that it wasn't for us. Neither Duncan Dhu nor Mecano nor Men G ever meant anything. That wasn't our music. We still didn't have the money or the age to go to concerts or to buy music or to return home after dark. But it was no longer necessary for anyone to tell us our lives were made up of other realities and we were beginning to no longer fit into the costume of children even though we were still children.
That or a few years later since records then did not expire so quickly someone appeared with a pirated tape of a group called Kortatu and sang in Basque. Anathema. Anathema. Anathema. We learned to eavesdrop on a portable cassette player in the CXB Directory park. Kortatu will always belong to that time when we opened our eyes and began to understand “The State of Things”. Always the same shitty song. We learned to sing in Basque and bounce in the park dreaming of being older and walking through the night. It was never so beautiful as then.
Collect the first teenage payments to be able to buy the vinyl and play it over and over again when you leave school. Bad boys. Anyone would say that exams are the end to which you dedicate your own life. The assembly of majaras on Radio Bigarda Libre declaring sun and good weather. We were already grown up or we thought so. Kortatu and La Polla as flag. Revolt in the phrenopathic.
From then on everything was Kortatu. Through them we met the Clash punk ska freedom and also a lot of shit that left so many people gutted in the gutter. It took them five years to become the biggest group in the history of our rock but they didn't give us time to grow up to be able to see them live. We will always blame him. City shit.
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