{"id":3591560,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3591560/?format=json","airdate":"2025-12-15T19:27:30-08:00","show":65389,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65389/?format=json","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"}