Play Public Instance

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{
    "id": 3591560,
    "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3591560/?format=api",
    "airdate": "2025-12-15T19:27:30-08:00",
    "show": 65389,
    "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65389/?format=api",
    "image_uri": "",
    "thumbnail_uri": "",
    "song": "Alacrán",
    "track_id": null,
    "recording_id": null,
    "artist": "Vuelveteloca",
    "artist_ids": [
        "42031b27-41b2-4f2a-b926-e901dba4a936"
    ],
    "album": "Metales Pesados",
    "release_id": null,
    "release_group_id": null,
    "labels": [],
    "label_ids": [],
    "release_date": "2025-11-21",
    "rotation_status": null,
    "is_local": false,
    "is_request": false,
    "is_live": false,
    "comment": "Alacrán is a title that carries immediate symbolism: the scorpion as warning, seduction, defense, and poison—beauty with consequences. The song works well when you hear it as a portrait of someone (or some feeling) you can’t safely touch but can’t stop approaching. That tension makes for great rock: push-pull dynamics, lines that feel like a dare, and an emotional center that stays sharp even when the track opens up. Vuelveteloca’s strength here is momentum with personality—music that feels like it belongs to a scene, a night, a specific kind of heat. The best scorpion songs aren’t just about danger; they’re about attraction to danger, and the thrill of being close enough to get stung. In a playlist, Alacrán functions as a turning point: it raises intensity without becoming chaotic, and it adds narrative flavor—a track that suggests drama is happening off-screen.\u2028Listen: https://open.spotify.com/track/0LiATNAr6OLvFJYZ8cdwec",
    "location": 1,
    "location_name": "Default",
    "play_type": "trackplay"
}