Viva el Rollo!

To be or not to be in the Rollo; that was the point. Because under the ferule of a parchment official culture and the ringorrango of other apostolic customs there underlay -in the Spain of 1975- a rebellious flow outside the flyer pamphlet and the party's guidelines. Damn, the Rollo Macabeo! Rock live or canned on FM. Horny comics, Star Books and Ajoblanco. A joint, red wine and two tripis. Vibrations, Popular 1 and Disco Expres. The Burgos festival and the Canet festival. Zeleste and M&M. Clapton Is God and the Mahavishnu Orchestra... Ingredients of a fat broth that was simmered in the kitchens of that traditional and deficit underground. A stew of heavy digestion for the guardians of order and the fundamental principles of the Movement who understood nothing about flash or Mellotron. And as a finishing touch, a synthetic obituary. Four words charged with the future: "Spaniards, Franco is dead"... Immediately afterwards the troops came out for peteneras: Long live Rollo!