{"id":3624518,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3624518/?format=json","airdate":"2026-03-02T20:29:15-08:00","show":66075,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/66075/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"Todavía DF","track_id":null,"recording_id":null,"artist":"Belafonte Sensacional","artist_ids":["2fa364f9-8c12-46bd-8846-437a5dbfdc10"],"album":"LLAMAS LLAMAS LLAMAS","release_id":null,"release_group_id":null,"labels":[],"label_ids":[],"release_date":"2025-05-30","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“Todavía DF” is a love song to a city that won’t stop changing, told with the tenderness of someone who knows every version of the place lives on in the body. Belafonte Sensacional have a gift for turning Mexico City’s daily intensity into melody—songs that feel conversational, funny, bruised, and deeply alive—and “Todavía DF” carries that gift with a quiet glow. The title says “still DF,” a phrase that holds nostalgia and insistence at once: the idea that a city remains itself even when names shift and streets get repainted. The track moves with a gentle momentum, letting the vocal sit close, as if the singer is speaking to an old friend across a table, naming what’s left, what’s missing, what still makes the heart recognize home. There’s an emotional realism here: affection without idealization, pride without blindness, grief without collapse. “Todavía DF” feels like walking familiar blocks and noticing both the ghosts and the new lights, accepting that memory is part of the architecture. The chorus lands like a soft declaration of belonging, and that softness is powerful—because in a city built on noise, choosing tenderness is a form of resistance. The song doesn’t try to freeze the city in time; it honors the fact that you can love something precisely because it refuses to stay still.\u2028Listen: https://open.spotify.com/track/465yg7FtqxBOmZgdjsirPu","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"}