“Hello, they won’t let us play anymore, so we’re going to play two more songs and we’ll leave. ‘Bloody Grim Reapers’ and the hippies to die!” It was 1982, the Malvinas war was still fresh and music in Spanish had carte blanche to do and undo. Bass in hand, Ricardo Iorio bullfighted an audience that, between reluctant and indifferent, turned its back on V8’s incendiary proclamations at the BA Rock festival.
Those initiatory days formed the genesis of a legend that today became extinct at the age of 61. Iorio was much more than the debater who assaulted the screens with at least explosive definitions. Iorio was a visceral and thoughtful artist, who earned the love and respect of his colleagues. From Babasónico to León Gieco, from Flavio Cianciarullo to Kapanga, everyone loved them.
An avid singer, Ricardo placed emphasis on the national, even when the manifest destiny of a Nation swimming in shallow waters seemed to be in the north. “We are the blacks, we are the fats, but not conchettos,” harangued the hordes that took over each of the Hermética shows throughout the country, a manifesto against the abyss towards which they were heading.
Behind the rude man, the bad words and scandalous ways, lay a sensitive heart and a generous mind. Iorio brought new generations closer to the work of Strong soul, Macedonio Fernández, José Larralde, Rubén Patagonia and so many more artists. He sang and told stories of the gauchaje, of the native peoples, of the forts, the indiada, the “frontier” and also of the afterlife.
Its three bands -V8, Hermetic and Almafuerte- forged the identity of a national heavy metal that, thanks to it, knew how to link itself with folklore and native music, opening the door to fruitful crossovers of styles and narratives.
If in V8 fury prevailed against a system that had wreaked havoc with blood and fire, Hermetic was the reflection that resonated in the foundations of a country on the verge of collapse. “Gilworker”, “You are your security”, “Masa anesthetized” and “Del colimba” are some generational anthems that reflected a reality in which it was no longer worth fighting for anything.
In the midst of this existentialist and nihilistic search, rays of everyday life filtered through. “I’m from the corner” or “In the streets of Liniers”, for example; postcards of an urban landscape outlined by a decadence in which the only thing left to do was take refuge in the simple. When others saw fantasy as her field of creativity, the H reflected an overwhelming reality.
Almafuerte, Iorio’s last great adventure. From there he contributed more pieces to the Argentine popular songbook. He was master and lord of the band but he had “Tano” Marciello as his squire, an exclusive figure when it came to understanding the phenomenon. With that platform a nationalist vein was exploited. The city environments turned towards rural settings and a traditionalist cleavage.
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In parallel, his solo role left “Yesterday I wish, today reality”, an accomplished solo album where the singer had the luxury of paying tribute to Spinetta, Billy Bond, Color Humano and Pappo, among other giants.
Ricardo Iorio died. Rivers of ink will be written about the controversies, tragedies and comings and goings that marked his last years. It is not the intention of this note to dwell on them.
Each and every one of us, good and bad, heroes and villains, go through this plane trying to do our best. Transcending is for few.
“It is love that is responsible/the only guide of the imperfect spirit/it is love that is responsible, I believe/it is the truth, it is the meaning, our father.”
Source: Ambito
I am an author and journalist who has worked in the entertainment industry for over a decade. I currently work as a news editor at a major news website, and my focus is on covering the latest trends in entertainment. I also write occasional pieces for other outlets, and have authored two books about the entertainment industry.
