We are five minutes away from the start of the concert and there is nothing to indicate what is about to happen on the Vueling del Cruïlla stage. Cruz Cafuné is still on the main Estrella Damm stage, located at the entrance to the venue, and her processed voice moves some of the attendees who are waiting impatiently on the track parallel to the sea. The expectation reigns among those who meet, the Spaniard with Belarusian roots has not stopped climbing positions in the independent music scene since he began his project in 2018. Ruslan Mediavilla, known as Rusowsky, has become one of the representatives of the underground recording songs from home.
The five minute wait doesn’t exhaust the public’s patience, they turn it on. Images of Russia appear on the big screen on stage, is it an advertisement? While some try to guess, the star appears on the scene in winter clothing and smoking a cigarette. The situation is strange, today has been a hot day and, despite the forecast of rain, it is over twenty-five degrees. A thunderous blessed with a violent rhythm gives way to okrO, the theme that opens the concert. The bodies move out of step trying to follow him and it is difficult to classify the style. Thanks and indecipherable presentation of the DJ who will accompany Rusowsky, presiding over the huge table on the stage. The Cruïlla beats instinctively.
Some hi-hats introduce the next song, don’t let yourself be seen, sensual and ideal for hunting down the clueless who are studying the proposal. It is practically impossible to understand the lyrics of the song, but it convinces those who did not know what to see. The space is one of the most welcoming in the festival and the stands with views of the sea make it difficult for the public to escape. “Are you okay?” says the protagonist with an exaggerated vocoder that makes it fun. The beginning of the next song seems to imitate the rain that the sky announced: “I’m sitting here and I don’t worry about anything / talk to me if you want me to tell you that everything is / that everything is wrong”. soft forces to approach the bodies of the mass which has gathered on the track.
little brujita and Goofy sound next incorporating the voices of the collaborators who have participated in them: Saramalacara and TRISTÁN. The assistants raise their hands, ignoring that they are not present on stage. Rusowsky’s vocoder and the image of the artist rolling through space offer a curious photograph. The song has managed to light up some screens that record what is happening. Goofy causes the public to end up jumping with their hands raised and without questioning the change of rhythm that now moves them out of beat. It looks like a lung that swells adapting to the changing punch.
Hits like micro and mwah sound :3: the dancing spreads and manages to lift those who comfortably occupied the stands. “I want a little noise please,” Rusowsky blurts out, prompting a sharp unison response. The disc jockey plays with the machines that invade the table while he savors the beer that is part of the scenery. They are two young people who want to be remembered as alternative punks. “Great,” says a girl who looks at him from a step in the stands.
The blessed takes on a life of its own as the recital progresses. Rusowsky isn’t one to magically fill the stage, but he’s very grateful. “We’re getting to the end,” he says before being swallowed up by the hype of the next track. General freakout and the track transforms into a rave that follows a destructive “start the beat”. The public seems to have multiplied by magic, as if the attendees of an uncontrolled after-party had teleported here. It is not yet black night and the scene does not match the landscape.
What seemed to be the last song, so so, has been a pre-closing announcement. Some have been parading to take place for the next performances, but most have waited to experience a rude VALENTINO that has made them scream and jump like never before. Rusowsky observes him turning on an axis that is impossible to determine and, when the public seems to have fully integrated, he disappears with a brief “thank you very much, Barcelona, ??I love you”. There’s no outpouring of applause, there are more tracks waiting to be conquered.
