La historia comienza en 1969. Dos amigos Charly García y Nito Mestre y en la casa de Charly, unieron sus ganas de hacer algo diferente. Para los primeros años de la década del 70, aparecía Sui Generis. Con un maravilloso talento para escribir las letras y con conocimientos de música clásica, un genio en toda su magnitud, Charly, indiscutiblemente, posee en su historia, las más contestarías y profundas letras, que se hayan escrito. Nito Mestre, con una voz mágica y angelical, guitarra y flauta traversa, comenzaban el camino a la eternidad. Fueron referentes de toda una generación. Hoy son un icono de la música Rock en Argentina. Esta foto me llevo a pensar en una canción que podía representar la imagen. Mi Humilde homenaje al más famoso grupo de Rock y a una canción: Confesiones de Invierno. La letra tiene mucho, de aquella época tan compleja políticamente hablando. Una pequeña historia en la vida de un individuo, como cualquier otro, donde su fracaso, fue no poder insertarse en la sociedad, con sus consecuencias.

Había en esa época, un clima peligrosamente creciendo, donde la violencia comenzaba a ser ejercida desde oscuros grupos dentro de los servicios de inteligencia. Comenzaban a crear el terreno, para lo que fue en Marzo del 76 el más sangriento golpe militar y la más oscura época que vivió Argentina. Por supuesto, como resultado del rumbo que muchos veían acercarse, se formaron Montoneros y el ERP, que en definitiva, eran el otro extremo ideológico. Muchos de sus miembros con ideales muy arraigados en el humanismo, pero lamentablemente tuvieron que recurrir a las armas, para defender lo que era las políticas que permitieron que nuestra sociedad tuviera la mejor distribución de ingresos por cápita del siglo XX. Tal vez, por eso, el golpe militar vino a cambiar las reglas de juego.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=3I_fWtEYE5A

The story begins in 1969. Two friends Charly García and Nito Mestre and in Charly's house, they joined their desire to do something different. In the early 70's, Sui Generis appeared. With a marvelous talent for writing lyrics and with knowledge of classical music, a genius in all his magnitude, Charly, unquestionably, has in his history, the most answering and deepest lyrics ever written. Nito Mestre, with a magical and angelic voice, guitar and flute, began the road to eternity. They were a reference for a whole generation. Today they are an icon of Rock music in Argentina. This photo led me to think of a song that could represent the image. My humble tribute to the most famous Rock band and a song: Confesiones de Invierno. The lyrics have a lot to say about that politically complex time. A small story in the life of an individual, like any other, where his failure was not being able to insert himself in society, with its consequences.

At that time, there was a dangerously growing climate, where violence was beginning to be exercised by obscure groups within the intelligence services. They began to create the ground for what was in March 76 the bloodiest military coup and the darkest era Argentina had ever lived through. Of course, as a result of the course that many saw approaching, Montoneros and the ERP were formed, which in the end, were the other ideological extreme. Many of their members had ideals deeply rooted in humanism, but unfortunately they had to resort to arms to defend the policies that allowed our society to have the best per capita income distribution of the 20th century. Perhaps that is why the military coup came to change the rules of the game.

 

www.youtube.com/watch?v=3I_fWtEYE5A

 

Lyric:

Winter Confessions

She threw me from her room screaming

"you have no job!"

I had to face my situation

In winter there is no sun

 

And though they say it'll be very easy

It's very tough to be able to improve

It's cold and I have no coat

And the hunger of waiting weighs on me

 

Who will give me something to smoke

Or a house in which to live?

I know that you must be in the streets

But I don't know how to leave

 

And the radio confuses us all

Without money I won't do well

If the wolves eat my flesh up

I won't able to steal half from them

 

God is employed at a counter

He gives to receive

Who will give me a credit, my Lord? I only know how to smile

 

And maybe I hoped too much

I wish you were here

They'll close the doors of this hell

And I might possibly want to leave

 

I got some liquor and I got drunk

In the bathroom of a bar

I went to give the street a kick

And I felt very bad

 

And although I never had drunk

In jail I had to stop

A friend paid the bail

The wounds are from the officer

 

I've been here for four years now

And I don't want to leave

It's no longer cold and I'm happy

My room faces the garden

 

And although sometimes I remember her

I drew her face on the wall

I only die on Sundays

And on Mondays I feel well again.