The sun has reached the city before it sank underwater. The specimens that have survived during the winter have gone to the surface to celebrate their lives and there you are, among the angry tadpoles, waiting for a concert. If there are not yet 73 days left, I would say that Pamplona is at the gates of San Fermín: charangas, vermut and sunglasses in the Casco Viejo, massive scream of street occupation. Nobody wants to move. Els carrers will be a nostalgia. In fact, entering a closed place with such a nighttime atmosphere seems lazy.

However, you've approached the Central and you've been surprised that the room is so full. You don't know very well why, but you're still amazed at the good musical taste of neighbors. At the exit of Yellow Big Machine, there is little free space to drink a beer with peace of mind. The atmosphere in the room warms up as the list of songs of the bilbaínos progresses, and to finish the concert the audience has been warm, waiting for the departure of Belako. A nervous silence. They zoom in.

You wouldn't know exactly what it is. You don't know if it's that voice that robs you around, the nice noise of the guitar and bass when you look at each other or the infinite force of the battery. You wouldn't know if that's why. And he knows it's a lot more than that. Belako leaves you in love every time you see them on a stage. You cannot avoid that stupid look that is directed at them. At the end of the concert, you're still the same. It will not be a bad sign.

However, I would say that it is not perhaps the Plaza de la Central the easiest for the mungiarras. This has been the first concert in Euskal Herria since the presentation of his new album in Bilbao in February, and at the rhythm of Render Me Numb, trivial Violence, you thought it could get tired for a moment. But what is that for a group that has turned the world around in the last year. The quartet has listened to the handshakes of the first song of the album, Maskenfreiheit I, and has taken the stage hard, bringing forward from the beginning with attitude what the concert will give. Masks out!

Notes that many people in the audience still don't know the new songs, and why fool them, you don't. The first climax of the night comes with the song Alas baleak, from the previous album, and you move your head back and forth with the whole room, hoping that the torticle of tomorrow will give you a couple wings. From there everything has been going up, and the minutes until the end of the session have passed quickly. Mungiarras greet the audience with a sweat and a smile in their mouths, as if they didn't know where that bustling magic that they also produce comes from.

Looking at each other, he noticed a pair of wings near the nape, two barely perceptible whale wings. There is Belako, ready to fly out of this city that was about to fall underwater.