It’s 10 p.m. at Café Berlin, an intimate concert venue in Buenos Aires. The servers are frantically rushing bottles of wine and empanadas to the tables of people chatting at the top of their lungs.
In Argentina, rock isn’t a nostalgic throwback to its former glory days but an alive, mutating rock revolution. Ramones T-shirts are virtually a national uniform, Marky Ramone became an honorary ...
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