Empty Heart

The night of San Juan in 2017, the day when the Vicente Calderón stadium in Madrid closed definitively before selling its soul to the picket and exchanging it into luxury apartments, was magical, like all summer solstices. Alejandro Sanz gathered 50,000 hearts in its stands to sing as one his most famous hymn, which turned 20 years old, and that, more than a concert, was an of emotions, I say collective communion. The artist, full of vocal faculties and others at the gates of the 50 tacos, took the umpteenth bath of masses and euros since he became a global idol with his guitar and his songs of love and conscience, and his audience thanked him for the services rendered more inflamed if possible than himself. Yes, the divo looked euphoric. More than walking, he levitated on the stage. But he was only noticed touched to the marrow when his friend the cantaora Niña Pastori sang to his Cai, sentimental cradle of both, demonstrating once again that one belongs more to the place and time where he was young and happy with one hand in front and one behind than to those who saw him make solid gold.

Just a few days ago, six years after that night of glory, and a quarter of a century after having composed that parting Heart that chanted ecstatically that stadium that no longer exists, Alejandro Sanz confessed in his social networks that, today, he has his not so broken as empty. He is sad and tired and feels "a hole in his chest", as he told those who went to see him in his last performance in Pamplona. There are already those who have come out to explain to us that the fault is their economic problems and their break with their last partner. He himself has said that it is not for anything or anyone but himself. There are those who do not fit in the head that a billionaire who fills auditoriums and provokes in the neighbor desire to mate and eat the world does not want to get up in the morning. I do understand. In December he turns 55, he is no longer young without being old, they shoot closer and closer and that lost paradise is getting farther and farther away. Just as what makes a world is that vertigo.

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