In almost two decades of visiting and living in Buenos Aires, I’ve spent a decent amount of time at after-hours spots and dive bars. Nights have unwittingly turned into mornings at the likes of Omm and Salón Pueyrredón, but I’d never set foot in Mamita Bar. This live music venue was so far off my radius that it didn’t even make it onto our live music venue’s guide. A couple of weekends ago, things changed for the better.
The chance to meet Mamita came when a friend invited us to watch him play with his new band, Fedv. We arrived around 10pm to find the bar in its early-evening incarnation, as if it had just risen from a hungover siesta in preparation for the night ahead. A handful of people, mostly friends of the band, were scattered around the room while the bartenders stood chatting among themselves.
Upon entering, it’s obvious that this is a place that’s been more accumulated than decorated. A giant Homer Simpson shares space with drawings and photos of Led Zeppelin, Maradona and blues legend Pappo, while legs of cured ham hang above the bar. The bathrooms are an attraction in themselves, appearing unashamedly untouched since opening night. Graffiti and tags cover the walls, giving off the appearance of a New York subway station scene from the cult movie The Warriors. It’s not trying hard to achieve bohemian cool, it just does.
Mamita’s bartenders are as no-nonsense as the venue, yet as welcoming as an aunt. “Pagas en efectivo, ¿no?” I was asked, or for want of a better word, instructed, when ordering a round of beers (from memory about $7,000 for a draught beer or Corona). It’s the kind of service I miss – you go to the bar, order your drink and pay the same bartender. No table service, and no queuing to tell someone what you want, get given a ticket, then queue again to repeat your order. A breath of fresh air, or in Mamita’s case, smoke and sweat-filled air.
Having arrived early(ish), we grabbed a table in front of the stage and settled in. With three bands on the bill, over the next five hours we witnessed the bar’s complete transformation. At 10pm it was a laid-back neighborhood bar; by midnight it was a different animal altogether. It reminded me of The Roadhouse in Twin Peaks, if it had been transported to a corner on the border of Chacarita and Colegiales. There was no admission fee (although some nights do have a charge), there’s no dress code and no single tribe. In fact, nobody gives a flying f@#$ what you are wearing, who you’re with, why you’re there and whether your table is technically still yours.
Our friend’s band brought a Palermo-Villa Crespo looking crowd for a set that shifted from original jazz numbers to well-known rock covers. When Mama Vintage took the stage with its raw, 70s-inspired sound, the demographic shifted to older rockers – many seemingly loyal band followers – and a lead guitarist who could be mistaken for Alice Cooper. By the time the closing act (name forgotten) brought their reggae and ska-influenced rock, the 100 or so punters had morphed again.
We stayed until around 3am, by which time the packed salon had everyone from suited after-office drinkers to music-loving couples and young Chacagiales types looking like they’d casually thrown on an outfit but had, in reality, been planning it all week. A DJ took over from the bands, spinning a greatest-hits setlist of rock classics. Walking outside, the night was still going strong, or maybe just warming up. The corner was buzzing with midnight marauders soaking up the no-limits side of Buenos Aires that only really makes sense in the small hours.
And then there was El Tio Norman, sharing a table outside with friends, including Porcelito, the apparently known son of late comedian Jorge Porcel and a regular guest on the bar’s weekly livestream talks. We later discovered that the long-haired man with the dyed beard and trademark round glasses was Norman Ramirez, Mamita’s owner and something of an outlandish character on the Buenos Aires nocturnal scene. Somehow, but at the same time unsurprisingly, he blended right in with the crowd.
Bottom line: Mamita can be whatever you want it to be, whether that’s a dive bar, live music venue, or neighbourhood hangout. It’s three, five, maybe 20 scenes all in one raucous evening with live music at the core. The bands bring their people, the regulars come with theirs, and everyone ends up in the same unapologetically smoky room. For a no-frills, slightly chaotic night that has no interest in pretending to be anything it isn’t, it hits all the right notes, even if the bands miss a few of theirs.
Location: Av. Alvarez Thomas 487, Chacarita/Colegiales
Opening hours: Thursday to Saturday, 9pm to late, or early depending how you gauge time
My husband's band played there last December and you've hit it on the nose, no notes. From the bathroom to the bar, así es. Y Norman es un capo. 👌💫