Leiva and the infinite posturing

It's time to confess. In the car, which is when you really put on the music you like because no one's there to judge you, lately I find myself listening to Leiva . A lot. A lot, even. I sincerely believe that Gigante , his latest album, is a great record, but I was embarrassed to admit it because it's not what is expected of me, of many of us (I know I'm not alone, guys).

The question is: up to what age does posturing make sense? It's understandable in your teens, when you just want to fit in; in your 20s, when you just want to get laid; even in your 30s, when you just want to think you're still 20 and keep getting laid. But how much of an asshole do you have to be to make it past 40 and still be worried about what another washed-up forty-something show thinks of your tastes? When will I be able to shamelessly admit that I like Notting Hill more than The Godfather (season 1, season 2 is in a different league), Friends more than Breaking Bad , and sex lying down more than standing up?

I look through the music t-shirts I'm currently wearing. Los Planetas , Wilco, Led Zeppelin, Neil Young, Teenage Fanclub, Pulp, Oasis , Tom Petty, Pearl Jam, the Rolling Stones, and one by Carolina Durante that I bought at her concert. But I don't wear it because you have to have some limits, and it's not a good idea to become a meme of Steve Buscemi, who's old enough to get his prostate checked, with a skateboard and his cap backward, saying, "How are you doing, the rest of you kids?"

What would Leiva, a guy who led a fan group called Pereza , have on that list? How could I, a champion of good taste and authenticity, possibly like someone who once wrote, in perfect consonant rhyme, "I feel like a cigarette butt between lips when I smoke, I hang on to anyone who likes to stay up late, how inappropriate it was to tell you 'I have to go.'... aha ?" Well, I like him. I like him a lot.

Because that Leiva was 25 and acted like one. The current one is 45 and writes fantastic songs like El polvo de los días raros and that absolute gem, Caída libre . If Robe Iniesta , a god on earth, agrees to sing a song with you, what the hell are we doing arguing over the legitimacy of an artist, four gentlemen trapped by our past? Malasaña no longer exists! It's a theme park! Let's open our minds!

Leiva, who belongs to that generation that grew up giving music lessons (bothered) to girls (and their guts) in bars, has done what many of us fail to do: grow up. It's time. I'm going to his concert and buying a T-shirt. When I can wear it out on the street, I'll finally be an adult.