There were no more talking points in the Basque provinces: When will the next movement revolutionize the musical scene? When does the soundtrack the size of these new times demand? The PhD students were fed up with energetically reinterpreting the New Basque Song and the RRV, reproducing the same playlist that the tabernacles had been going on for decades, and the most enthusiastic melodies, who know the innermost sounds of the insides, had no choice but to confess the fascination of the panorama. Certainly, anyone who had eyes wide open and ears raised would see it in the air: a whole nation, with its parties, lobbies and choznas, with sweaty teeth, waiting for a new movement that would shake the music. And of course, the whole structure of the media, with its cultural journalists, Tertullians and musical critics, with their greased feathers, was willing to open a gap in the Basque scene to evict the next one. In the end, canonized artists also came to light proclaiming in the newspapers that this people needed to recover the spirit of Ez Dok Amairu. A new rupture at the macro scale. No one was alarmed, except for the resins of all times. By then, the consensus was total: like spring mushroom and moisture, Basque music needed great abrasion.

The wind couldn't blow more strongly. All the ingredients were on the table, only the equipment that was going to pop the picture was missing. And then the Huntza threw it uphill and opened to the four winds, like from the late success of Hemendik At to the present day nothing was spreading. Not a single ear escaped: the hit, capable of diabolical everyone who surprised him on the road. “Of course, this was what we needed,” the people said, imagining that the triki-pop was about to revive, the romerías would flourish again with the new Maixa ta Ixiar or Alaitz eta Maider. But it's already been almost eight months and you don't see a succession. Yes, that of Ivy has been a joy, but that of revival, a nostalgic joy of the one who wanted to repeat as such the beautiful times he had once lived and, therefore, with an expiry date. The triki-pop, for the time being, is not going to save us.

Despair took hold of every corner. Many surrendered, thinking that tearing was more difficult than ever, that a true revolution in music was no longer possible. And that is, how can we be today an aesthetic transgressor when capital has more capacity for assimilation than ever before? Is there still any painting that can make real art? Tests on these kinds of questions began to reach the bookstores. Meanwhile, from great concerns to years of light, Kau Kori sang “Today I woke up speaking in Roncalés”, sang Ttun Ttun Brigad, claiming that La Rioja is the Eighth Basque Province. They were distant nuts, but one of them approached and realized that they had similar characteristics: songs without great elaborations – that anyone can record with a computer and with very basic synthesizers –, desire to experiment, and the philosophy Do It Yourself.

More mushrooms appeared on the curb. In the absence of reasons to make a long series of documentaries about the sociology of Hondarribia, Corpus Christi gangsters began to trap, with their arsenals, singing that they achieve a cheap abiyua. The fresh breath also came to Bizkaia: to hear, if not, brief and quick songs from the cyber hosts of the Robotic Group Magnetico, or the Dantza Tribe of Zazkel, claiming the Basque Pop Radical. Those who made punk always took it out of the pamphlet and turned to satirical words. Pecozza United de Irun offered songs, among others, to blogger Bugattiko Konstgunea or the Center Palentino de Durango. On the contrary, the members of the Txemak anal-core group of Donostia-San Sebastián complained that they had El Corte Inglés in Eibar, and not in Donostia-San Sebastián.

Someone will say that the link between musicians is too forced, that they are of very different kind – electro pop, trap, punk, freak, anal-core, etc. – and that it is not appropriate to put the Errezil and the Golden apple in the same bag. Obtuse reading, as it does not take into account the most essential integrator of artistic currents: attitude. Spirit. The worldview. And it's clear that groups have a similar look. Not new, but not widespread on the margins, let alone in Basque. It is an ironic attitude, which sometimes approaches sarcasm, parody, often with an iconoclastic point. Between laughter and discomfort, they leave the listener, because he doesn't know how much that voice he's listening to is real and fictional. And, above all, they have no vocation to save Euskal Herria.

Members of Bergara's Txapa radio smelled all that before anyone else. The Halabalooza Festival was held on April 1 in the Old Jail and invited several bands from this new wave: Ttun Ttun Brigade, Magnetico Grupo Robot, Zazkel, Dr. Krzyc… The festival had a foundational form, because for the first time it brought together in a space and at the same time several artists who until then acted in a similar way, but who used to act on their own. Even the most undecided saw it clearly after that night: yes, there was a movement there. A movement that took another form -- more dispersed, decentralized, no fixed march, very diverse -- but a movement. They've made a hammock with less tuna.

We just had to name him. The label should be “Basque”, short and inclusive. But what is the characteristic that encompasses all these groups? In addition to the aforementioned attitudes, the historical moment in which they have emerged. If to understand all art one has to look at the context, all groups are created after the armed conflict. How was it not going to work? Not so much, as you might think of the boycott, because before you could not freely parody some subjects, such as Cycles Iturgaiz or Lendakaris Muertos. Surely the key is another: with the end of the armed cycle a whole narrative has been finished, and there is a feeling that it has not been replaced by a naif optimism that splashes everything. On the other hand, in these groups it can be seen as a little more sceptical. Faced with this optimism of Demas, they prefer to take distance and take a severe and ironic look at the environment.

It is time to baptize this group of voices that are forming after the era of violence. Post Pum arrives. In the coming decades, it will take all the bars, txosnas and popular meals. It will be heard from the bafles of the Korrika van, Herri Urrats and Usopop. Soon they will put him on Radio 3 and with a little luck in Gaztea. It will complete the pages of Wikipedia. Round tables, conferences and discussions will be held. T-shirts, documentaries and doctoral theses will also be carried out. It's going to go to museums. In graduate studies it will be taught as an example of cultural transmission until it becomes reactionary to erosion and someone dares to oppose it. Meanwhile, long live the Post Pum!