Camilo at Starlite: A Love Letter to Good Vibes

What happens after the nearly two-hour concert at the Nagüeles quarry defines very well what Camilo is ... or the Camilo effect, no matter what you want to call it. Because it confirms one of the most valuable lessons one can learn in life: you have to listen to the artist, not the stereotypes we have etched in our minds about him. And it doesn't matter that he wore pants with a floral pattern that's hard to describe or that some of his monologues with the audience seemed like they were lifted from the notebook of a failed poet.

The Colombian singer starred this Thursday in the first of his two concerts scheduled at Starlite. With this Friday's performance, the cycle closes, at least for the summer season. To give you a hint... The name of Camilo's current tour is 'Our Happy Place'. There, in the midst of a quarry that never ceases to amaze as a concert venue, among the shouting and collective chants of catchy lyrics, a sophisticated translation of the concept was achieved. Or in other words: sorrows at a Camilo concert are less.

With the usual slight delay, he jumped onto the stage without any concessions. Barefoot and with that sharp mustache that in others might seem the result of unresolved personal issues, but which in Camilo has become iconic.

The night started strong. First, 'Una vida pasada' played. It was followed by 'Millones' and 'El mismo aire', a song Camilo shares with Pablo Alborán. Just those three songs were enough to show that you don't always need drugs to levitate to a state where worries rot and fray, even if just for a moment.

With no more scientific basis than that which says music is also a mood, Camilo presented his best-known songs. 'Favorito', 'Vida de rico', and 'Tutu' played. Later, something extraordinary happened. In one of his most recognized songs, Camilo sings the following: "You are the fifty of my fifty, now everything tastes and smells better." The screams escalated, and the temptation to kiss the person next to you increased. A kiss with affection, somewhat naive, not one of deep tongue, but one that stops time and space and invalidates the laws of gravity.

Because Camilo's style is also defined by these things. If communism is sparse in the display of colors, a concert by the Colombian is a sensory and chromatic explosion, heterogeneous sound, joy, rainbows, and a bit of healthy cheesiness. A pleasure for those who know how to move their bones and a danger for the bone stability of the less gifted. But it didn't matter because, by this point, the concert had long been at its peak.

And at this point, one of the great surprises of the night appeared. While Camilo crafted phrases of adulation toward Evaluna, his wife, and dedicated some songs to her, the spotlights turned off for a moment. When the light returned, she appeared on stage as someone who enters your life expecting nothing in return. Intense looks between the two. Magic and a future together yet to be described.

In this trembling mood, the concert entered its final phase. There was even a marriage proposal (why the need?) and it was successful. In the final stretches of this chronicle, there must also be words for the band that accompanied Camilo. Extraordinary. Fine cinnamon. Constant and in harmony, almost perfect, to the point of leaving no one indifferent.

The last song of the night was 'Índigo'. With the lights dimming, the chorus still echoed in the Nagüeles quarry leaving a final conclusion. It's good to breathe and feel your heart beating.