Vamă, Vamă
The moment when I discovered E.M.I.L. is lost to time by now, but I do know that I was young and had only just found Vama Veche. From that moment on, they became one of those bands that, whenever I hear them, takes my mind straight back to those white nights spent under the bulb at Stuf — dancing barefoot, sand between my toes, far from everything that passed for ordinary life. Beer, smoke, happiness and total freedom — precious illusions in the middle of a world that seemed to grow louder and heavier with every passing year.
The years went by, we all grew up, Vama is no longer what it was — but in our memories it stays exactly the same, and E.M.I.L. grew with us too. After 25 years, they brought us together at @expiratclub to say goodbye, and to remind us once more of those times when we braved the cold of seaside nights just to feel free. And for a few hours, Vama was again what it once was. We felt young again, beer in hand, as the band carried us through 25 years of songs we had essentially grown up inside. The sand wasn’t there — but if you closed your eyes, you could almost feel it.
It’s incredible how time passes, and how suddenly we find ourselves watching the bands that shaped our youth say their farewells. But perhaps this is simply how things go. The music will stay with us always. So will the memories. Thank you @emil_trupa for the unforgettable nights.
