a friendly and playful show at the Palau Sant Jordi

The transition from candidness to a pelvic stroke, and “from childhood to affairs” (as the wise Raphael sang), is not new in music, and among pop stars the gradual lyrical warm-up is common: already in their day, Britney, Christina, Miley… And now, Aitana Ocañaturning on moral (and moralistic) debates with the ‘alpha tour‘, which this Saturday served entertainment, initiation strokes and some nice tunes on the first of two nights at the Palau Sant Jordi.

The discussion about whether it is reasonable or not for a six-year-old girl to dance happily with refrains like “the more you eat me, the more I like it” (‘Los Angeles’) we will leave it for other sections of the newspaper. All this promotional game (not very new in the end) covers up the artistic evaluation of Aitana, who in ‘alpha’ has taken a turn from guitar pop-rock to a dance-house script with an electronic feel anchored in the 90s. Songbook of irregular inspiration, it must be said, but bearer of some graceful choruses that caught on in the room, like ‘AQYBE’ (praise for flirting without a bad conscience: “now that you’re gone, I’m going to kiss someone else”) and ‘In the car’, which Aitana defended by strutting around in her high-heeled boots and singing (well) with her childish voice, pleased because the stands and the track listened to her and dressed in white. The color of purity and that of her brusa (which was not changed throughout the ‘show’).

In horizontal position

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She shows herself as a reflection of her fans, announcing that He is going to cry a lot because of the emotion of singing at home. (and so it was when presenting the ballad ‘The Killers’, inspired by his ‘partner’ Sebastián Yatra) and talking about the six years that have passed since his entry into ‘OT’ with credible naturalness. “Damn, I’m 24 and a lot of things have happened.” Of course: Now Aitana moves (although not much: she is no stage beast) in a stylish montage in the shape of an alpha letter, with a dance troupe that accompanies her in her carousel of insinuations. Or something more than that: in ‘miamor’ she placed herself horizontally on top of one of the dancers, threatening with movements that would have delighted the Madonna of the ‘Blond ambition tour’.

Aitana is not a pop diva nor does she try to impress us; her ‘sexy’ profile doesn’t even go beyond the naughty choreographic gag. It retains something of the next-door neighbor who rehearses poses in the mirror (or on Instagram), and the concert was more varied than the album, with other records in the repechages of ‘Mon amour’ and ‘Mariposas’. Among the novelties, the high of ‘Pensando en ti’ and ‘Another night without you’, more successful than that derivation of ‘Las babys’, based on the 90s Europop hit ‘Saturday night’, by Whigfield. Current pop does not lose sight of recycling.

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