Play Public List
Information about plays
list: List of plays
retrieve: Information about a specific play by ID
GET /v2/plays/?format=api&offset=24300&ordering=-airdate
{ "next": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/?format=api&limit=20&offset=24320&ordering=-airdate", "previous": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/?format=api&limit=20&offset=24280&ordering=-airdate", "results": [ { "id": 3629887, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3629887/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-03-16T21:33:15-07:00", "show": 66201, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/66201/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "song": "Afuera Esta LLoviendo", "track_id": null, "recording_id": "121aba83-2385-41de-8953-1a42c312bebf", "artist": "Guerra Fría", "artist_ids": [ "8b5144d8-c1ef-44a8-80f9-8613c419d624" ], "album": "De los Recuerdos y el Odio", "release_id": null, "release_group_id": "4da65fa5-a0f8-4037-9cd0-4443e72af6df", "labels": [], "label_ids": [], "release_date": "2022-04-30", "rotation_status": null, "is_local": false, "is_request": false, "is_live": false, "comment": "“Afuera Está Lloviendo” understands one of pop’s oldest truths: weather is never just weather. Guerra Fría released the track as part of De los Recuerdos y el Odio, and it sits within a cycle that already sounds emotionally loaded by title alone. “Outside it’s raining” can be read literally, of course, but songs like this usually find their power in the way exterior climate mirrors internal drift. That visual simplicity is part of the track’s strength. Rain songs endure because they make isolation visible, and this one seems built for that kind of recognition. Guerra Fría’s name already suggests distance, emotional freeze, or historical pressure, so the song’s gentler meteorological image introduces a beautiful contrast. Coldness becomes water, conflict becomes atmosphere, and mood settles over the arrangement like a gray film. Whether the track leans dream-pop, indie pop, or a more melancholic electronic register, its title suggests intimacy with ordinary sadness rather than melodrama. That intimacy matters. The song does not need grand symbolic machinery. It only needs the listener, the window, the rain, and the sudden realization that the outside world has become an exact model of the inside one.\nListen: https://guerrafriamusic.bandcamp.com/track/afuera-esta-lloviendo", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3629886, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3629886/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-03-16T21:30:35-07:00", "show": 66201, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/66201/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "song": "Empty Process", "track_id": null, "recording_id": null, "artist": "Prismatic Shapes", "artist_ids": [], "album": "Gloomy Afternoon", "release_id": null, "release_group_id": null, "labels": [], "label_ids": [], "release_date": null, "rotation_status": null, "is_local": false, "is_request": false, "is_live": false, "comment": "“Empty Process” comes from Gloomy Afternoon, the 2018 EP by Prismatic Shapes, the Mexico City post-punk and darkwave project built around a sense of cold elegance and emotional distance. The title alone tells you a great deal about its appeal. This is music fascinated by systems that continue to operate after meaning has thinned out, by routine as atmosphere, by motion without consolation. Prismatic Shapes have a gift for making restraint feel dramatic. “Empty Process” suggests bureaucracy of the soul, ritual after disillusion, the repetition of gestures that once promised transformation and now simply echo. That could sound overly severe on paper, but the band’s darkwave sensibility gives the idea a seductive shape. Minimal structures, shadowed melodies, and a disciplined pulse allow the song to inhabit detachment without becoming inert. There is something beautiful about the way post-punk can turn alienation into architecture, and this track seems to understand that deeply. The process may be empty, but the experience of moving through it is not. In fact, that contradiction is where the song likely finds its tension. To feel trapped in routine is still to feel intensely. “Empty Process” captures that paradox well, sounding mechanical and wounded at the same time. It is a song for fluorescent nights, reflective windows, and the strange emotional afterimage left by systems that keep running long after belief has drained away.\nListen: https://prismatic-shapes.bandcamp.com/track/empty-process", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3629885, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3629885/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-03-16T21:27:35-07:00", "show": 66201, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/66201/?format=api", "image_uri": "https://coverartarchive.org/release/add51b72-0aa4-4ab9-ad0b-5fe15810b8be/40739211055-500.jpg", "thumbnail_uri": "https://coverartarchive.org/release/add51b72-0aa4-4ab9-ad0b-5fe15810b8be/40739211055-250.jpg", "song": "Los otakus no van al cielo", "track_id": null, "recording_id": null, "artist": "cacomixtle", "artist_ids": [ "f67d9e96-6b94-4bff-8834-8340453b2a24" ], "album": "Flora y Fauna del Estado de México", "release_id": null, "release_group_id": "e0eaa875-a398-44a3-833a-d0ce05ff8d82", "labels": [], "label_ids": [], "release_date": "2024-12-06", "rotation_status": null, "is_local": false, "is_request": false, "is_live": false, "comment": "“Los otakus no van al cielo” arrives with a title that is funny, abrasive, and a little tragic all at once. cacomixtle is a rock project from Ciudad Satélite, Naucalpan, in the State of Mexico, and its Bandcamp page roots the project explicitly in Estado de México identity. The song itself is a 2026 release, issued as a stand-alone single and clocking in at just over two minutes. That brevity feels important. The title suggests satire, scene in-jokes, and internet-age melancholy compressed into a fast emotional burst, the kind of track that lands before it can overexplain itself. Even without an extensive public biography, the available release trail and the project’s surrounding catalog point toward a young rock act with a distinctly local imagination, where geography, subculture, and absurdity are all part of the songwriting texture. There is something compelling about the way the title turns a niche identity marker into a mock-apocalyptic statement. It sounds unserious until you realize how many contemporary anxieties move through that kind of joke: belonging, exile, cringe, self-recognition, and the fear of becoming ridiculous in public. The best underground songs often understand that comedy and alienation are close relatives, and this one seems to live squarely in that space. It feels sharp, fleeting, and very online, but also oddly sincere beneath the punchline.\nListen: https://cacomixtle.bandcamp.com/track/los-otakus-no-van-al-cielo", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3629883, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3629883/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-03-16T21:25:15-07:00", "show": 66201, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/66201/?format=api", "image_uri": "https://coverartarchive.org/release/bb8451d4-c304-4b94-9f0d-b3e12603b4c5/24199580114-500.jpg", "thumbnail_uri": "https://coverartarchive.org/release/bb8451d4-c304-4b94-9f0d-b3e12603b4c5/24199580114-250.jpg", "song": "Blues Del Atajo", "track_id": null, "recording_id": "61e4db69-ebf8-4645-99cb-f95c59d3c6b3", "artist": "Real De Catorce", "artist_ids": [ "0b2d2175-e4e5-43d0-99bf-e6a4f2b02d59" ], "album": "Contraley", "release_id": null, "release_group_id": "b8646e2c-3574-4568-8619-69d562e45331", "labels": [], "label_ids": [], "release_date": "1994-01-01", "rotation_status": null, "is_local": false, "is_request": false, "is_live": false, "comment": "Real De Catorce have spent more than four decades building one of Mexico’s most enduring independent blues legacies, and “Blues de Atajo” stands as one of the songs that makes that legacy easy to understand. The song moves like a dusty road taken for reasons that are equal parts necessity and instinct. A shortcut, after all, is never only about speed. It is also about risk, improvisation, and a willingness to leave the sanctioned route behind. That makes “Blues de Atajo” an ideal title for Real De Catorce, whose work has always carried the feeling of autonomous travel through cities, bars, nocturnal revelations, and the hard-earned philosophy of the street. The band’s blues is not imitation imported whole. It is translation, adaptation, and lived practice, filtered through Mexican urban experience and the literary gravity that has long marked J. Cruz’s writing. In “Blues de Atajo,” there is movement, but also reflection; weariness, but also sly confidence. The music feels inhabited by people who know that detours often reveal more than official maps ever could. That is why the track endures. It offers blues not as a museum style, but as a way of reading the world: alert to damage, rich in detail, and stubbornly committed to making beauty out of what the long road leaves behind.\nListen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fKUxk-9ogGY", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3629882, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3629882/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-03-16T21:19:45-07:00", "show": 66201, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/66201/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "song": "Ojalá Fuera tu Voz", "track_id": null, "recording_id": null, "artist": "Santa Sabina", "artist_ids": [ "a8542271-1d5a-426e-b098-8aeecd197523" ], "album": "Mar adentro en la sangre", "release_id": null, "release_group_id": "f68b44ca-b0f8-37fb-a48d-ade4513e2656", "labels": [], "label_ids": [], "release_date": "2000-01-01", "rotation_status": null, "is_local": false, "is_request": false, "is_live": false, "comment": "Santa Sabina built one of the most singular catalogs in Latin American rock, drawing together gothic atmosphere, art-rock ambition, jazz-inflected movement, and the unmistakable voice of Rita Guerrero. “Ojalá Fuera tu Voz,” from Mar Adentro en la Sangre, belongs to the later chapter of that journey and remains a powerful example of the band’s ability to make longing sound both spiritual and earthbound. The title alone is devastating. It imagines not just hearing someone, but becoming the sound that reaches them. That is a profound form of desire: to erase distance by inhabiting the medium of intimacy itself. Santa Sabina were uniquely equipped to carry such a thought into music because they rarely treated emotion as merely personal. They gave it ritual, architecture, and a sense of elemental scale. In “Ojalá Fuera tu Voz,” the ache is unmistakable, yet it never collapses into sentimentality. Instead, the band surrounds it with dramatic musical space, allowing the feeling to echo, darken, and bloom. Guerrero’s presence is central to that effect. She could sound commanding and fragile in the same phrase, turning the song into both invocation and confession. What remains so striking is how naturally Santa Sabina combine poetry and force. It does not simply describe yearning; it stages yearning as an atmosphere one must move through.\nListen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kjjRTPWjmYE", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3629881, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3629881/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-03-16T21:14:22-07:00", "show": 66201, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/66201/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "song": "Colisión", "track_id": null, "recording_id": "c3e8d719-1809-4b40-a0c3-d94ef10f3791", "artist": "Nadie Te Escucha", "artist_ids": [], "album": "El Culto de Magdalena Solis", "release_id": null, "release_group_id": null, "labels": [], "label_ids": [], "release_date": "2025-07-25", "rotation_status": null, "is_local": false, "is_request": false, "is_live": false, "comment": "Nadie Te Escucha began in Mexico City in 2022 as the alias of Gabriel Albuerne before expanding into an ensemble with David Campos and Josune Vizuet. Their Bandcamp description points to a blend of progressive rock, jazz, shoegaze, Latin rhythms, and underground Mexico City energy, and “Colisión” feels like an apt title for a project built from exactly that kind of convergence. The song’s power lies in its suggestion of impact without reducing everything to noise. A collision can be violent, but it can also be revelatory: two trajectories meeting, two textures scraping against each other, two emotional states refusing to stay separate. That is the atmosphere this track evokes. Rather than sounding committed to one scene or one inherited structure, Nadie Te Escucha seem interested in the unstable places where genres push against one another and produce new emotional weather. “Colisión” therefore reads as more than a song title. It becomes a compositional idea. The likely tension between haze and precision, groove and rupture, dreamlike drift and sudden force, gives the track its appeal. There is also something psychologically true in that metaphor. Human feeling often arrives as a crash between incompatible desires, and songs like this are compelling because they let contradiction remain audible. “Colisión” does not seem interested in smoothing everything into consensus. It values friction, and in that friction it finds movement, identity, and a compelling sense of becoming.\nListen: https://open.spotify.com/track/2gccWIXEG5URtiZKsZEmEM", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3629880, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3629880/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-03-16T21:12:15-07:00", "show": 66201, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/66201/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "comment": "", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "airbreak" }, { "id": 3629879, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3629879/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-03-16T21:07:29-07:00", "show": 66201, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/66201/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "song": "Perro rabioso", "track_id": null, "recording_id": "5954fb40-0da2-4928-89dd-bf6cbc3b4509", "artist": "los esplifs", "artist_ids": [ "83ddc7d2-c4a5-4341-a69e-40b0d792622e" ], "album": "Electroshow 1", "release_id": null, "release_group_id": "f4e0db26-f4b7-4397-a47d-8763aa2d96fb", "labels": [], "label_ids": [], "release_date": "2012-01-01", "rotation_status": null, "is_local": false, "is_request": false, "is_live": false, "comment": "“Perro Rabioso” by Los Esplifs is a fiery, garage‑punk burst that showcases the band’s irreverent energy and raw melodic instincts. Hailing from Argentina, Los Esplifs have carved out a space in the Latin alternative scene with their mix of punk attitude, catchy hooks, and humorous storytelling, and this track is a perfect example of their punchy, no-frills style.\n\nThe song hits hard from the first note, with jagged guitar riffs and punchy drums propelling the narrative forward. Vocals are delivered with a mix of snarling urgency and playful exaggeration, giving the song its “rabid” character—fitting given the title translates to “Rabid Dog.” Despite its raw edges, the band maintains an underlying sense of melody that keeps the track infectious and memorable.\n\n“Perro Rabioso” captures the DIY spirit of garage punk while threading in a distinctly Latin sensibility, from the lyrical humor to the rhythmic bounce that drives the chorus. It’s a track that feels immediate and alive, the kind of song designed for live shows where the energy of the audience and band feed each other.\n\nAt around three minutes, it’s brief but exhilarating—a perfect snapshot of Los Esplifs’ ability to blend aggression, humor, and melody into something both catchy and chaotic.\n\nhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F0u2Yt43Ykg", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3629878, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3629878/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-03-16T21:04:53-07:00", "show": 66201, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/66201/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "song": "Kumbia Tequendama", "track_id": null, "recording_id": null, "artist": "Conjunto Media Luna", "artist_ids": [ "b9ad296e-c7a7-462c-b906-6e42754db401" ], "album": "Kumbia Tequendama", "release_id": null, "release_group_id": null, "labels": [], "label_ids": [], "release_date": null, "rotation_status": null, "is_local": false, "is_request": false, "is_live": false, "comment": "“Kumbia Tequendama” feels expansive before it even begins. The title suggests movement across regions, histories, and musical lineages, joining cumbia’s deep circulatory life with the name Tequendama, which evokes Colombia and a longer geography of ritual, travel, and symbolic landscape. Current release pages identify the track as a 2026 single by Conjunto Media Luna in collaboration with Amantes del Futuro, and profile data points to Conjunto Media Luna as a project founded in 2020 by musician and producer Iván. That is enough to hear the song as part of a living contemporary cumbia conversation rather than a nostalgic gesture. What is appealing here is the sense of continuity without stasis. Cumbia has always thrived through migration, mutation, and local reinvention, and “Kumbia Tequendama” sounds like another vivid example of that process. The title alone suggests ceremony and dance sharing the same body. It hints at a song that might carry romance, mysticism, and street-level motion in equal measure, the kind of track that can move a room while also summoning a broader cultural memory. The collaboration aspect matters too. A song like this benefits from collective energy, from the sense that it is being built not only as a composition but as a shared space. It reads as music made to circulate, to gather people, and to let rhythm carry history without weighing it down.\nListen: https://open.spotify.com/track/0kGj7SEmA1yEORCJLQ6uxk", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3629877, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3629877/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-03-16T21:02:00-07:00", "show": 66201, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/66201/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "comment": "", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "airbreak" }, { "id": 3629876, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3629876/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-03-16T20:58:12-07:00", "show": 66201, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/66201/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "song": "Fuera del amor", "track_id": null, "recording_id": "6588332d-9b8d-4085-afeb-55ded3bed00e", "artist": "Belafonte Sensacional", "artist_ids": [ "2fa364f9-8c12-46bd-8846-437a5dbfdc10" ], "album": "Gazapo", "release_id": null, "release_group_id": "edf69212-29b7-49ef-a6de-83267d1fcae1", "labels": [], "label_ids": [], "release_date": "2014-06-17", "rotation_status": null, "is_local": false, "is_request": false, "is_live": false, "comment": "Belafonte Sensacional, led by Israel Ramírez in Mexico City, has long occupied a singular place in Mexican independent music by drawing together folk, punk, literature, barrio speech, and a kind of emotionally unruly storytelling that always feels rooted in real streets. “Fuera Del Amor,” from the 2014 album Gazapo, is a beautiful example of that sensibility at work. The song feels worn in, like a phrase scribbled on a wall and revisited years later with fresh heartbreak. There is a restless tenderness to it, but also grit. Belafonte Sensacional has always excelled at making urban life feel lyrical without cleaning it up too much, and “Fuera Del Amor” carries that quality in every turn. It does not treat love as transcendence. It treats it as weather, damage, memory, neighborhood rumor, and private collapse all at once. The music supports that emotional complexity with a sound that can lean ragged without losing purpose. Folk shapes are present, but so are the scrapes and shouts of rock en español and the loose, lived-in cadence of songs made among friends, books, cheap drinks, and hard histories. “Fuera Del Amor” is moving because it sounds inhabited. Nothing about it is sterile. It carries the texture of a life already underway before the recording started, and that gives the song its weight. Rather than asking to be idealized, it asks to be felt in full, bruises and all.\nListen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JMHoRCaZfTY", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3629874, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3629874/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-03-16T20:53:20-07:00", "show": 66201, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/66201/?format=api", "image_uri": "https://coverartarchive.org/release/f7b89847-2231-4a46-b4bb-74e2b36032cc/38448518629-500.jpg", "thumbnail_uri": "https://coverartarchive.org/release/f7b89847-2231-4a46-b4bb-74e2b36032cc/38448518629-250.jpg", "song": "Vivo", "track_id": null, "recording_id": null, "artist": "Fobia", "artist_ids": [ "43732dda-0963-4bf6-bc09-c657d44be875" ], "album": "Amor chiquito", "release_id": null, "release_group_id": "7fb86343-e0be-32f8-8eef-d5774838eeaa", "labels": [ "BMG Ariola S.A." ], "label_ids": [ "bd06e4b3-29ed-406a-bfbd-3226a6990dca" ], "release_date": "1995-12-22", "rotation_status": null, "is_local": false, "is_request": false, "is_live": false, "comment": "“Vivo” is one of those songs that explains why Fobia mattered so much to Mexican rock in the first place. Appearing on Amor Chiquito, the band’s 1995 album, it captures their gift for balancing sophistication and immediacy: polished enough to feel precise, strange enough to avoid predictability, and catchy enough to live far beyond its original release moment. What gives “Vivo” its staying power is the sense of motion inside it. Even when the arrangement feels controlled, there is nervous energy underneath, a pulse that keeps the song from settling into comfort. Fobia were never interested in brute force alone; their brilliance often came from tension, wit, texture, and the ability to make alt-rock sound elegant without draining it of personality. “Vivo” reflects that beautifully. The title suggests vitality, presence, survival, even a sharpened awareness of being in the world, and the song carries all of that with an almost elastic confidence. It moves with intelligence but never feels academic. Instead, it sounds playful and sleek, alive to detail, alive to rhythm, alive to the thrill of holding emotion just slightly at an angle. That is where Fobia often excelled: not in blunt confession, but in shaping a sonic atmosphere where feeling arrives through movement, phrasing, and design.\nListen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oceiPsWDObo", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3629872, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3629872/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-03-16T20:50:11-07:00", "show": 66201, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/66201/?format=api", "image_uri": "https://coverartarchive.org/release/64061e66-ba3b-42fa-9cdb-f40f7ed43898/41172750458-500.jpg", "thumbnail_uri": "https://coverartarchive.org/release/64061e66-ba3b-42fa-9cdb-f40f7ed43898/41172750458-250.jpg", "song": "Te voy a dormir", "track_id": null, "recording_id": "7f53a173-c73d-47bf-86fa-83674b02a1e0", "artist": "San Pascualito Rey", "artist_ids": [ "cb9dd7c8-f240-4816-a2a2-731090ae880e" ], "album": "Sufro sufro sufro", "release_id": null, "release_group_id": "554af920-f1e4-3878-b44c-9d5f5e003a20", "labels": [ "Intolerancia" ], "label_ids": [ "5cb2998e-8327-4c3b-9d7e-b176e7fe0315" ], "release_date": "2003-06-21", "rotation_status": null, "is_local": false, "is_request": false, "is_live": false, "comment": "“Te Voy a Dormir” stands near the center of what made San Pascualito Rey such a singular force in Mexican rock. Formed in 2000, the band emerged with an aesthetic that folded bolero, lounge, trip-hop, rock, and Mexican song traditions into something lush, nocturnal, and emotionally severe. The track appears on their 2003 debut Sufro, sufro, sufro…, and it quickly became one of the songs that defined the group’s early reach. Pascual Reyes has said that Radiohead was a principal influence behind the song, and that clue helps explain its particular kind of ache. “Te Voy a Dormir” is not heavy in a blunt way; it is heavy with atmosphere, with the sensation of being slowly submerged by tenderness and dread at the same time. That contradiction is one of the band’s great strengths. There is romance in the song, but it is never innocent. The arrangement suggests old-world intimacy while the emotional temperature feels far more unstable, as though desire were shadowed by exhaustion and spiritual unease. San Pascualito Rey have often sounded like a dance hall caught inside a fever dream, and this song remains one of their clearest examples of that gift. It seduces without reassuring, and it hurts without becoming melodramatic. That balance is why it still feels haunting rather than merely nostalgic.\nListen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H4d7vOpFKZQ", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3629871, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3629871/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-03-16T20:45:28-07:00", "show": 66201, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/66201/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "comment": "", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "airbreak" }, { "id": 3629873, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3629873/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-03-16T20:44:15-07:00", "show": 66201, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/66201/?format=api", "image_uri": "https://coverartarchive.org/release/33717eae-8686-4aa4-a1e0-8856a6a5c02e/33480019852-500.jpg", "thumbnail_uri": "https://coverartarchive.org/release/33717eae-8686-4aa4-a1e0-8856a6a5c02e/33480019852-250.jpg", "song": "I want ya (in my cell)", "track_id": null, "recording_id": "f9051dd4-5317-4f50-b9e3-28ec26314cd5", "artist": "Prison Affair", "artist_ids": [ "85d53d76-8191-42b8-8512-88267cffa694" ], "album": "Demo", "release_id": null, "release_group_id": "d5b14a79-3be9-49e9-a8db-a56846899ac6", "labels": [], "label_ids": [], "release_date": "2019-11-15", "rotation_status": null, "is_local": false, "is_request": false, "is_live": false, "comment": "is a blast of wiry, lo-fi synth-punk that barely crosses the one-minute mark but leaves a lasting impression. The track originally appeared on the band’s Demo release from 2019, a short collection that helped introduce the Barcelona group’s frantic, off-kilter sound to the underground punk scene.\n\nThe song moves at breakneck speed. A buzzing bassline and tightly wound drum machine rhythm kick things off before jagged guitar lines and distorted vocals jump into the mix. Everything feels deliberately rough around the edges—recorded with a DIY immediacy that recalls classic cassette-era punk demos. But underneath the chaos there’s a strong sense of melody, with hooks that flash by so quickly you almost want to replay the track the moment it ends.\n\nPrison Affair sit comfortably in the world of modern “egg-punk,” a corner of punk that mixes garage rock energy with quirky synth textures and a sense of playful absurdity. “I Want Ya (In My Cell)” captures that spirit perfectly: it’s frantic, catchy, a little weird, and completely unapologetic about its scrappy production.\n\nClocking in at just over a minute, the song feels like a hyperactive jolt of electricity—short, sharp, and addictive. It’s the kind of track that embodies the charm of underground punk: fast, funny, and impossible to ignore.\n\nhttps://prisonaffair.bandcamp.com/track/i-want-ya-in-my-cell", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3629869, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3629869/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-03-16T20:42:10-07:00", "show": 66201, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/66201/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "song": "Ya no está", "track_id": null, "recording_id": null, "artist": "Raya", "artist_ids": [], "album": "Raya 2", "release_id": null, "release_group_id": null, "labels": [], "label_ids": [], "release_date": null, "rotation_status": null, "is_local": false, "is_request": false, "is_live": false, "comment": "“Ya no está” comes from a recent release associated with the Spanish band Raya and issued through DIY punk channels. That release context is useful, because the song makes the most sense inside the loose, wiry grammar of contemporary egg punk and garage punk: short forms, nervous momentum, jagged melody, and a refusal to overexplain. At just over two minutes, “Ya no está” feels built for impact rather than exposition. The phrase itself carries absence in blunt terms, and Raya turns that absence into motion. Instead of mourning with grandeur, the track sounds like it is pacing the room, bumping into the walls, trying to metabolize disappearance through velocity. The production favors immediacy over polish, which helps the song keep its emotional bite. There is something almost comic-book bright in this kind of punk, but beneath that brightness lives agitation, disappointment, and the sickly glow of things falling apart too quickly to narrate cleanly. Raya’s sound thrives on compression: ideas are delivered fast, hooks arrive half-shouted, and the arrangement leaves no room for ornamental drift. “Ya no está” benefits from that economy. It takes a simple phrase and loads it with instability, turning a statement of loss into a burst of resistance.\nListen: https://idiotaperecords.bandcamp.com/track/ya-no-est", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3629868, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3629868/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-03-16T20:37:20-07:00", "show": 66201, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/66201/?format=api", "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" }, { "id": 3629867, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3629867/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-03-16T20:35:44-07:00", "show": 66201, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/66201/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "song": "Quema Los Recuerdos", "track_id": null, "recording_id": null, "artist": "Margaritas Podridas", "artist_ids": [ "599f26bc-ccdf-46e3-87a4-350532f782f8" ], "album": "Metales Pesados", "release_id": null, "release_group_id": null, "labels": [], "label_ids": [], "release_date": "2026-03-06", "rotation_status": null, "is_local": false, "is_request": false, "is_live": false, "comment": "Margaritas Podridas have spent years turning distortion into a vessel for catharsis, and “Quema Los Recuerdos” is a powerful continuation of that practice. The trio from Hermosillo, Sonora, led by Carolina Enríquez alongside Erubiel Cuen and Rafael Armenta, has built an international following through a sound that binds grunge abrasion to shoegaze density without losing melodic force. On “Quema Los Recuerdos,” that balance feels especially potent. Even the title sounds like a ritual: not simply forgetting, but burning memory until it changes state. The song transforms personal exorcism into something communal. Margaritas Podridas are exceptionally good at making private anguish feel physically shared. Their music does not tidy emotion; it amplifies it until it becomes atmospheric, almost architectural. Here, the guitars seem to work both as weapon and weather system, surrounding the voice rather than merely accompanying it. Yet for all the noise, the band never abandons shape. There is always a song inside the storm. That is part of what distinguishes them from lesser imitators in the heavy dream-pop and grunge revival fields. “Quema Los Recuerdos” carries the abrasion one expects from the band, but also a sense of release that feels earned rather than decorative. It is raw, but not careless; loud, but not numb. The track burns because it means to cleanse, not just destroy.\nListen: https://margaritaspodridas.bandcamp.com/track/quema-los-recuerdos", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3629866, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3629866/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-03-16T20:31:20-07:00", "show": 66201, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/66201/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "comment": "", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "airbreak" }, { "id": 3629865, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3629865/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-03-16T20:26:34-07:00", "show": 66201, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/66201/?format=api", "image_uri": "https://coverartarchive.org/release/93d2fe35-09a0-4a79-99a2-25fa4801c3b5/34810438631-500.jpg", "thumbnail_uri": "https://coverartarchive.org/release/93d2fe35-09a0-4a79-99a2-25fa4801c3b5/34810438631-250.jpg", "song": "Macabre", "track_id": null, "recording_id": "daee0818-096f-4fcb-9f4c-89a7386b8b1e", "artist": "La bande-son imaginaire", "artist_ids": [ "eb92ba5b-89a3-4e4a-86af-d2e110bfe442" ], "album": "Macabre", "release_id": null, "release_group_id": "63524269-d250-431a-8aeb-d60c109218b3", "labels": [ "Tanat Records" ], "label_ids": [ "6c4956d6-1a40-4ab0-a3af-80c7f43f9d91" ], "release_date": "2020-03-10", "rotation_status": null, "is_local": false, "is_request": false, "is_live": false, "comment": "“Macabre” is one of those songs whose title functions like a door already half open. La Bande-Son Imaginaire, the French-Mexican darkwave project led by Oscar Tanat, thrives in precisely that threshold space where vintage gothic aesthetics, continental cool, and death-haunted elegance can become playful without losing seriousness. Official release and video pages place “Macabre” among the project’s defining works, and one compilation entry notes that the lyrics draw from Charles Baudelaire’s “Danse Macabre,” a detail that clarifies a great deal. This is music that does not merely flirt with morbidity as surface styling. It understands the macabre as literature, performance, and choreography. That distinction matters. “Macabre” works because it keeps death in motion. Rather than freezing into solemnity, it lets darkness strut, shimmer, and seduce. The result fits beautifully within the project’s larger appeal, which lies in transforming gothic reference points into something vivid and cosmopolitan rather than nostalgic. The song feels theatrical in the best sense: it knows the mirror, the costume, the grave, and the dance floor all belong to the same emotional architecture. Baudelaire’s shadow gives it lineage, but the track’s real achievement is making that lineage feel immediate. It is pleasure sharpened by mortality, and that is why it lingers.\nListen: https://open.spotify.com/track/56ZXiQ7ytziHsvU52LSWWK", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" } ] }
