When Bafo de Baco opened in 1992, at Rua Afonso de Albuquerque nº26, in Loulé, it left the youngest residents of Loulé expectant about what would develop there. The location didn’t bode well, especially for those who were used to everything happening in the city center.
From the outset, despite initially being thought of as a space for “covers” music, Bafo de Baco also marked itself out as a place for “originals”, experimentation and new musical proposals.
The use of a decorative space, merchandising and a dynamic that pushes us into the atmosphere of French “caveau” and Liverpool pubs, Bafo de Baco maintained the objective for which it was created. A difficult task, in such a dispersed region and time.
The madness of this dream, which currently goes beyond the country’s borders, was that of Horácio Costa, the “Major”, who continues to be the helmsman of this boat, sometimes at risk of drifting, when recognition is scarce. Other times almost sinking, when there is no more room to hear and see names like Nashville Pussy or Tim Vantol (and so many others, Portuguese and foreign). Always full, always opening. For two, three, four generations. And more will come.
Text: Luísa Martins
Bafo de Baco
When Bafo de Baco opened in 1992, at Rua Afonso de Albuquerque nº26, in Loulé, it left the youngest residents of Loulé expectant about what would develop there. The location didn't bode well, especially for those who were used to everything happening in the city center. From the outset, despite initially being thought of as a space for “covers” music, Bafo de Baco also marked itself out as a place for “originals”, experimentation and new musical proposals. The use of a decorative space, merchandising and a dynamic that pushes us into the atmosphere of French “caveau” and Liverpool pubs, Bafo de Baco maintained the objective for which it was created. A difficult task, in such a dispersed region and time. The madness of this dream, which currently goes beyond the country's borders, was that of Horácio Costa, the “Major”, who continues to be the helmsman of this boat, sometimes at risk of drifting, when recognition is scarce. Other times almost sinking, when there is no more room to hear and see names like Nashville Pussy or Tim Vantol (and so many others, Portuguese and foreign). Always full, always opening. For two, three, four generations. And more will come. Text: Luísa…