I love the language, that soft bastard latin,
Which melts like kisses from a female mouth,
And sounds as if it should be writ in satin,
With syllables which breathe of the sweet South,
And gentle liquids gliding all so pat in,
That not a single accent seems uncouth,
Like our harsh northern whistling, grunting guttural,
Which we’re obliges to hiss, and spit, and sputter all.

Byron 1818 in “Beppo”

Komisch in Madrid in einer Disco Kaiser Chiefs und dann auch noch 2raumwohnung zu hören…inmitten von Menschen, die dem Berliner Publikum entsprungen zu sein scheinen…im Sala Sol.