{"id":3629868,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3629868/?format=json","airdate":"2026-03-16T20:37:20-07:00","show":66201,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/66201/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"Nancy","track_id":null,"recording_id":null,"artist":"Las Pijamas","artist_ids":[],"album":"Nancy","release_id":null,"release_group_id":null,"labels":[],"label_ids":[],"release_date":"2021-11-02","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“Nancy” has the peculiar charm of a song that seems to smile with its teeth showing. Las Pijamas come out of Mexico City’s punk-adjacent underground, and even when the band leans toward lo-fi pop or garage melodicism, there is still a sense of mischief and abrasion under the surface. That tension animates “Nancy.” The title sounds simple, almost innocent, but the song itself feels like a character sketch delivered through cracked mirrors and smudged eyeliner. It plays with familiarity while keeping its emotional motives slightly obscured. The result is memorable not because it explains itself, but because it creates a vivid atmosphere around a name. Musically, “Nancy” sits comfortably in the lineage of scrappy indie and punk-informed pop where catchy does not mean clean. The hooks have a tossed-off immediacy, but there is enough distortion and attitude in the framing to keep the track from ever feeling lightweight. Las Pijamas are part of a wider ecosystem of Mexican underground acts that value personality as much as precision, and “Nancy” reflects that sensibility well. It is a song with a face, a posture, and a little bit of lipstick on its collar. Whatever story it tells, it tells it sideways. That obliqueness becomes part of its appeal. It feels flirtatious, bratty, and faintly haunted.\nListen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6c4FaGk9GBc","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"}