Mr. RÖCK!

It starts with Led Zeppelin IV on rainy autumn Sundays in the mid-80s, and a radio that never went off — FM 106.3 Rock & Pop from Buenos Aires. He woke up with it and fell asleep with it, and it left him two things: an eclectic ear for rock, and a lifelong habit of pulling songs apart to trace the influences behind every sound.

A teenager with particular musical taste, he found his place in Buenos Aires' passionate, bursting live scene. Football stadium or dirty little room under the highway, he was dead center in the front row, in the thick of the moshpit, wringing everything out of the night. He still is — at any concert, anywhere in the world, the front row is where he belongs to something bigger.

By the late 90s he had his own internet radio show, squeezed through a 56k dial-up modem that topped out at about twelve listeners: friends, trash talk and great records before heading out on a Friday night. Airheads and Wayne's World, basically. On the side he fronted a string of cover bands that never took off — happily impersonating the singers he admires and destroying the songs he loves.

The mid-2000s found him in Paris, a regular at the Black Dog — an extreme-metal bar in the centre of town, in the days when rooms for rockers, metalheads and sinners were thin on the ground. He took over the basement and gave his weekends to loud rock and metal, for fun and no profit.

By the late 2000s he'd landed in Amsterdam and found a haven at the Rock Club The Cave, where the Black Dog routine ran for over a decade — he ended up co-owning the place and booking its nights for a spell. When The Cave went, the nights went with it. He hung up the headphones and stayed retired, until the passing of the late, great Ozzy Osbourne in 2025 pulled him back behind the decks.

Now he's back — and he wants Amsterdam to have the kind of fun it's been missing for far too long.