Finding Axl Rose in Santiago

By novoarte  |  Location: Chile  |  11/15/08

There are a few reasons I should say "No" when the Chilean bloggers invite us to go out for drinks after our five hour dinner.

I don't like bars much.

I haven't slept in 36 hours.

I have 56 e-mails in my inbox.

We're getting up at 6 AM.

But as the plan develops for squeezing six people into a twin cab pick-up and driving across town for drinks at Constitucion 61, I hear myself saying, "Sure! I'll go!"

It's a Tuesday night. It's 12:30 and the bar is packed. It's smoky.

A band is ripping out tunes on stage: karaoke with a twist. The band has a 50 song set list and bar patrons can add their name and the song they'd like to sing in a bucket, waiting to be picked at random for their time at the mic.

Some of the songs are predictable, standard Beatles, Rolling Stones, The Cure, and Ramones favorites that seem to have done well all over the world. Then there are some tunes you'd think would be total buzz killers: Radiohead's "Creep," for instance, and Stevie Wonder's "I Just Called (To Say 'I Love You')". But the crowd is equally enthusiastic about every song.

The pisco is good. The vibe is even better. One more drink, and I'd probably toss my own name in the bucket.

As I'm thinking this, the self-appointed emcee steps to the mic and says a name, followed by "Sweet Child O' Mine."
The guitarist, who has just come off the keyboard after playing the Stevie Wonder song, shifts gears. He even has a cigarette dangling out of his mouth like Slash as he thrums out a perfect solo.

The kid who takes the mic couldn't be called a dead ringer for Axl Rose, the lead singer of the popular 90s heavy metal band, Guns 'n Roses. He's got short hair, he looks slightly more functional than Axl, and, well, he's Chilean. But he's just close enough: tall and lanky, scrungy, and intimate with the mic, rocking it back and forth. And his voice is good. He actually sounds like Axl Rose. "Where do we go, where do we go, where do we go now?" he sings in the appropriately gravelly voice that's weirdly discordant and yet somehow strangely seductive. The energy of the crowd rises with the song, and as I look around, I see people dancing, nodding their heads, raising their glasses, and clapping wildly as the Chilean Axl Rose throws himself off the stage and into the crowd.

At this moment, I could be anywhere.

But I'm not. I'm in Santiago, Chile, connecting with people who don't have to be from the same country to know that finding Axl Rose in Santiago is an awesome thing.

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