Glockenwise

There is a before and after Plástico, the addictive 2018 album, when the Portuguese language, in place of English, gave them an eloquence that proudly exposed a sense of belonging to a culture and a place. Those who have seen them live know that Glockenwise are "a band from Barcelos", and those who witnessed the epic concert they staged in our venue upon the release of Gótico Português, understand how much that geography is identity-forming and shapes their songs. That's why, after yet another return home, Glockenwise speak of the common world again through their own struggles, after looking inward, recovering a past that, being theirs, ends up being all of ours. Born after the "kaolin war" — an activist social movement in Barcelos in the late 1980s that fought against land expropriation and the exploitation of clay rock — they show us how history seems to force us to repeat cycles, inevitably postponing the future that insists on slipping away from our horizon. That a song can be a weapon, we already knew; what's left is to receive from Glockenwise the coordinates of this collective mission, where "anything goes to get somewhere", at last.