Critics say the Ecos tour is not Soda Stereo. Theyre missing the point

As the first chords of Soda Stereo’s De Musica Ligera started on April 6 at the Movistar Arena, the public roared in a way I’ve only experienced when the “Star Wars” logo appeared during the opening of “The Force Awakens”, or Argentina came out to the pitch against Brazil at the Monumental football stadium. Lead singer Gustavo Cerati had already hyped up the audience with his iconic introduction, “Tengo una buena canción para cantar, a ver” (I’ve got a cool song to sing, let’s see), just as he had in Soda Stereo’s original final tour in 1997, and everyone there knew what came next. But Cerati, of course, wasn’t there. Not in physical form at least.  He was only represented by a video image of him playing alongside his bandmates and recordings of previous concerts. Soda Stereo’s new tour called Ecos has been followed by controversy at every turn ever since it was announced last September, and the reason is easy to understand: Cerati passed away on September 4, 2014, at 55, after spending more than four years in a coma caused by a stroke he suffered in 2010. Critics suggested that drummer Charly Alberti and bassist Zeta Bosio, the two remaining members of the band, were — for lack of a better term — pulling a “Weekend at Bernie’s” with their former colleague. The two founding members had already been in the spotlight during the making of a 2017 show with Cirque du Soleil, and the band’s previous 2020 “Gracias Totales” tour, which featured guest singers to replace the band’s frontman.  The new concerts, relying entirely on recordings of Cerati to fill the gap, felt like a bridge too far for many, who questioned their legitimacy and ethics. This, of course, mattered little to the 15,000 fans at the third show at Movistar Arena, but the question remains whether this was Soda Stereo at all and whether these concerts were anything other than a cash grab. One of the best concerts by Soda I’m here to tell you that this was Soda Stereo, and that these concerts are some of the most important — even if not the most creative — the band has ever given. Let’s first get over the semantics. Soda Stereo is far from the first band to perform without one or more iconic members on stage.  Nobody would suggest it’s not Black Sabbath without Ozzy Osbourne, nor The Who without Keith Moon, or Alice in Chains without Layne Staley. Even Queen performed without Freddie Mercury.  But beyond that, the sum is way greater than the parts. “Gracias Totales,” while a worthwhile and interesting take on some of the band’s greatest hits, showcased that even the spirit of Cerati, his voice from a time past, far reached into the fans’ hearts more than any host of talented musicians could. Not even Coldplay’s Chris Martin, who sang De Música Ligera. Few fans would deny being brought up to tears at one point (or several) during Ecos. For me, that happened during one of the band’s greatest hits: En la Ciudad de la Furia. While I’m far from being the most dedicated Soda Stereo fan in the world, I’ve done my fair share of listening, from the entire record catalog to all official live recordings and even some bootleg audio straight from the console. Imagine my shock, then, when during the guitar solo that closes the song, I noticed something I had never heard before. From beyond, Cerati had plucked notes I had never heard before, wrapping the composition in a way I had never previously heard. Contrary to what many feared when the tour was announced, this wasn’t some AI slop generated from listening to hours of Soda Stereo live performances. It was the real, breathing Gustavo Cerati performing, playing alongside his bandmates, generating genuine emotion. If that’s not a live music experience, what is it? For as many feelings as it evoked in me, so it did in a kid standing a few seats down the line. No older than 10, he sang his heart out and jumped through the whole concert, at many points embracing his father. As Cerati’s son Benito said after his performance in “Gracias Totales,” Gustavo may be gone, but he lives in the fans.  That’s why these concerts are incredibly important. What they ultimately lack, they more than compensate for with what they give.  They allow a whole generation of fans, from me (who narrowly missed out on the 2007 reunion tour) to kids for whom Ecos is the only possibility to build bridges and shared experiences with those who instilled in us a love of Soda Stereo, a band that far transcends its own era. Denying those fans the legitimacy of these concerts is a borderline gatekeeping attitude and a short-sighted view of what constitutes a band and what their music conveys. And what it conveys is enough to have 15,000 people on their feet, jumping and singing their hearts out to De Musica Ligera. With over 30 sold-out concerts across the American continent and in Spain, they will do it again. I don’t know many dead guys who can rock a place like that.