{"id":2578,"date":"2019-03-18T00:00:16","date_gmt":"2019-03-18T04:00:16","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/magazineampm.com\/?p=2578"},"modified":"2023-04-10T16:18:30","modified_gmt":"2023-04-10T20:18:30","slug":"chocolate-mc-perfil","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/magazineampm.com\/en\/chocolate-mc-perfil\/","title":{"rendered":"The Gospel according to San Choco"},"content":{"rendered":"
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"I am a schizophrenic fan of Elvis (...)\u00a0<\/span><\/i>I do not want the name to be ignored. "
\n<\/span><\/i>Yosvani Arismin Sierra Hern\u00e1ndez (Chocolate MC)<\/span><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

<\/p>\n

Verse I<\/b><\/h2>\n

Every night, while their idols were singing, Yosvani must have experienced a sensation very different from that of the crowd that gathered in front of the stage. The women wagged their hips and the men shook their shoulders with sudden movements, back and forth, fast, as stipulated by infamous <\/span>tranques<\/span><\/i> so fashionable. Perhaps, on the side of the stage, Yosvani moved his feet secretly to the rhythm of the songs. Nothing else. His ecstasy was not that of the uninhibited and wild body that continues as bewitched by the sound of the basses, but more calm, meditative, an epiphany reproduced a thousand times in his head that revealed: \"someday you will be there, singing\". <\/span><\/p>\n

When reggaeton began to incorporate the pails, Yosvani felt the real weight of his work as a prop. Before and after the concerts he carried instruments, microphones, cables, horns. Sometimes, when there was no other choice, he would stop at the door of the enclosure and control the entrance of the public. His skinny body as a teenager should not inspire much respect as a disco gorilla, the truth, but Yosvani knew his suburban and marginal environment well; he could talk like a handsome man, pose as handsome even if he was, in the background, a cheerful boy, almost childish.<\/span><\/p>\n

In 2007, some of his classmates excelled as urban music stars, <\/span>underground<\/span><\/i> no place in the media that, despite everything, had the country dancing its compasses. Some friends took others and Yosvani ended up frequenting the private downloads of El Micha, Adonis MC, Pipey, Samil, Jhona, Dj Jerry and Elvis Manuel. Of all, according to Yosvani, Elvis was the best.<\/span><\/p>\n

Elvis Manuel Mart\u00ednez Nodarse was what could be called "a prodigy" of urban music. When he was 17 years old, he had the whole of Cuba dancing at his feet and singing his lyrics. A few months were enough for him <\/span>The Mulata<\/span><\/i>, <\/span>Wait for it<\/span><\/i>, <\/span>The bass horn<\/span><\/i>, <\/span>The Dit\u00fa<\/span><\/i>, <\/span>Give him mambo<\/span><\/i> and many other songs will "stick" in the streets. Any small holiday motive moved at his own pace.<\/span><\/p>\n

Despite his fame, Elvis Manuel remained the same as always, a poor boy from Los Pinos. Amateur to raise pigeons, he received in the dovecote of his roof the same friends that representatives. It was, to put it in some way, his office. He also liked the clandestine fighting of roosters, so common in his area of Arroyo Naranjo. For the rest, the "king of the streets" was a strange and somewhat arrogant guy who lived in the limits of the sociable and the lonely. At least that's what Yosvani saw, his biggest fan. <\/span><\/p>\n

Although they did not recognize it, between Elvis Manuel and Yosvani there was always a very strong bond. Both were consecutive links in a chain of ambitions, bound by the desire to succeed in their world. Each one intended, simply, to take another step. Elvis dreamed of recording a true album, in a respectable studio with wooden walls and not covered with old egg cartons. He wanted them to recognize his title of "king", not to hear him alone in the streets but on radio and television, to interview him, to make video clips for the Lucas Awards. All this obsessed him to despair. A singer is not a star until he comes out in the media, he must have thought. Yosvani's aspiration was another, something realistic and mundane. He just wanted to be Elvis.<\/span><\/p>\n

During the first days of April 2008, Elvis stopped going to the concerts and private parties of the reggaeton show. He had not explained why, but he was always that reserved and very few worried about his absence. Yosvani was still working as a prop, promoter, gorilla or whatever it was needed, always behind the scenes, until one day, while enjoying a quincea\u00f1era celebration with Jhon and Adonis, some boys arrived agitated.<\/span><\/p>\n

-Hey, Jerry just arrived from the sea and Elvis does not appear! - they said.<\/span><\/p>\n

The high volume of the music meant that nobody heard the news. Nobody except Yosvani, who left running to the house of DJ Jerry, frequent musical accompanist and intimate friend of Elvis Manuel. <\/span><\/p>\n

Jerry came out the door. His face and shoulders showed serious burns that had just begun to heal, long flesh-colored spots and pockets caused by the sun and salt of the ocean. When he saw Yosvani, he started crying.<\/span><\/p>\n

-Jerry, asere ... and Elvis?<\/span><\/p>\n

Jerry lowered his head between sobs and said: <\/span><\/p>\n

-Brother ... Elvis ... we do not know where he is.<\/span><\/p>\n

Jerry told him the details about the disappearance of his friend, or at least those he could catch from the desperation of a shipwreck. They had left for Florida in a small boat, they were lost, they were caught by bad weather, the boat sank, the waves, the cries, the absence. They were crying for a long time until Yosvani decided to return to the party to inform the others. But when he arrived everyone was already very drunk and they only managed to smile.<\/span><\/p>\n

The disappearance of Elvis never happened of a simple tragedy that could happen to anyone. Irioska Nodarse, the mother, had returned to her little house in Los Pinos and swore that her son was alive, only that she did not know where. Some Miamian television stations, which until then had spoken little or nothing about him, now speculated with ridiculous theories and placed him on an island in the Caribbean or kidnapped by the government. The friends did not react either, many of them took advantage of the context to seduce the Elvis women. <\/span><\/p>\n

To top it off, in the famous concert of the 100 cuc tickets that gathered at the Hotel Capri to the then fractionated Clan 537, the rapper Insurrecto, joking about the subject, began to sing <\/span>Under the sea<\/span><\/i>. <\/span><\/p>\n

Yosvani boiled inside. He could not stand the ungrateful disdain of the fanatics or the hypocrisy of the small intimate circle of his idol. He did remember him, he was mourning him. He had never dared to imitate him, but the pain gave him strength to take a microphone; not to transport or adjust it, but to sing. <\/span><\/p>\n

Loaded with courage he went to the beaches of Marazul, east of Havana, and on the seashore, facing the horizon, he spoke to Elvis. He promised that he would become famous and talk about him at all times until people remembered his existence. Then, humble, he asked for his blessing.<\/span><\/p>\n