Maria Moctezuma & Rayna Avila | Friday, October 26th 2024, Live @ Muztic, Mechelen.

I know. I have said this time and time again. ‘This was the best show I have seen (this year).’ But this time, this time it might actually be true. It is hard to decide when you see so many wonderful things as I do, but this one, this was something else. I’d heard about Maria last year from Ann, who has never steered me wrong in her recommendations, but sadly I couldn’t go that time. After last night and knowing that coincidence doesn’t exist and it’s all about the synchronicitous roller coaster I am on, I understand that it wasn’t the time then. 

We arrive at the location and are immediately blown away. How can this have existed in my city without me knowing about it? The very warm and inviting space, a beautiful outside area and the cosy cellar stage bode well for what is to come. 

Reyna Avila, a Mexican artist who now lives in Antwerp sets off, telling us all about the theme of the night Dia de Los Muertos. Loyal readers of this blog already know how enamoured I am with this concept and how it fit into last year’s purple thread of music I had followed. It won’t surprise you to learn then, that I felt the tears well up from the first impeccable note she sang. There’s no way I can find the words to fully explain the why, so I will let the video speak for itself. 

She follows up with another heart wrenching traditional Mexican song about a cicada. Reyna tells us that the moment you hear the cicada sing is right before it is going to die. She tells it to hush because she doesn’t want it to die, but if it does, she wants to go with it singing into death. I, along with the rest of the crowd are listening breathlessly and it feels like we’re all living in an impossible bubble in time and space. Unencumbered about anything that might be happening outside of it, soothed wholly by Reyna’s amazing voice. 

Maria weaves her way through the crowd wearing a majestic feathered headpiece and blowing a beautiful eerie sound on a conch shell, her gorgeous dress swaying to her delicate movements. She starts setting the scene with her loop pedal, effortlessly tapping the buttons with her bare feet. It creates a magical ritualistic atmosphere and the crowd is listening completely spellbound. The spell is broken for a fraction of a second when she starts to sing, if only because her voice adds another layer to that otherworldly sound.

Maria has an incredibly versatile voice and vocal range that engulfs the audience in a tender, warm embrace. Not to mention the graceful ease with which her fingers dart in complicated, frantic patterns over the necks of her guitar, bass and accordion. There is no better place to be than right here and right now and I’m basking in this moment, hoping it can last forever. 

When Maria invites us to think of the people we’ve lost to sit alongside us and share in the energy I just about lose it. I’m sitting next to Jo who has lost his beautiful wife Binne only ten days earlier. This is what I meant when I said it wasn’t the time to see her last year. The added layer of feeling and hearing the music and incessant symbolism crashing over Jo, comforting him in this difficult time makes this all just that much more beautiful. You can just feel the energy in that small cellar change, it feels like a religious experience. 

I could go on and on trying to find the words to describe this night, but the words truly escape me. During the break and after the show, I can barely string two words together coherently and have to communicate with just sighs and saying what the fuck. (Hence the title of this blog.) I’ll just let the music speak for itself and end this off by imploring you to go see these two breathtakingly beautiful women every chance you get. I know I sure will.