Radio Chat

Every Tuesday at 9 PM, *DJ_Rulo* connects from a flat in Lavapiés with the mic open and the speaker volume at maximum. No warning, no sound checks: he just lets out a *"Can you hear me, guys?"* and starts with a cumbia villera set that gets half the room debating whether Los Palmeras are better than Damas Gratis within five minutes. He's been doing it since 2012, when he first came in looking for people who could handle his obsession with 90s remixes. Now it's an unwritten rule: if you're not here on Tuesdays, you miss the only moment of the week when the room smells of virtual beer and debates about whether Celso Piña's accordion is more authentic than the Kumbia Kings'.

Here, we don't talk about music in the abstract. Someone asks *"Which version of 'Ojalá' do you prefer: Silvio's or Marc Anthony's?"* and within three lines, there are already three factions: the purists who spit out their coffee, those who defend Marc's *"soulful salsa"*, and those who say *"meh"* and change the subject to ask *"Does anyone have the bootleg of Soda Stereo's 87 concert?"*. The debates heat up —*"Current reggaetón is just pop with autotune"* vs *"You're just nostalgic for the old days"*—, but nobody leaves without sharing a YouTube link with *"listen to this, ignoramuses"*. There are also musical aid nights: *"I have a song stuck in my head about a train and a guy crying, does anyone know the title?"*. Sometimes it takes hours to solve, but someone always comes up with the answer and a *"Don't you know Joaquín Sabina?"* thrown in for free.

What no other room has is the *Friday ritual*. At exactly 12 AM, someone —always anonymous— uploads an unexpected 80s song, like *"A quién le importa"* by Alaska or *"Marta tiene un marcapasos"* by Hombres G, and the room falls silent for two minutes. No comments, no memes: just thirty people listening as if they were in the same bar. Then, the first person to speak has to tell a bad joke or say *"this is for those who had acne in the 90s"*. There's also the *unwritten glossary*: if someone says *"that's older than the black thread"*, everyone knows they're referring to Mecano; if they write *"14/02/97"*, it's the day Ricky Martin released *"María"* and half the planet went crazy. And if you mention Chayanne, be prepared: you'll either fall in love or get kicked out.

Join with any nickname, no registration required, from your mobile or PC. ChatZona has been on IRC since 2007, so don't expect emojis or stickers: here, we write like in the old days, with haste and spelling mistakes. There are no rules, just one: if you ask *"What are you listening to?"*, someone will respond before you finish writing. The weird thing would be if nobody told you to *"put on your headphones and shut up"* within the first two minutes.