Play Public List
Information about plays
list: List of plays
retrieve: Information about a specific play by ID
GET /v2/plays/?format=api&offset=30700&ordering=-airdate
{ "next": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/?format=api&limit=20&offset=30720&ordering=-airdate", "previous": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/?format=api&limit=20&offset=30680&ordering=-airdate", "results": [ { "id": 3618431, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3618431/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-02-16T21:00:00-08:00", "show": 65953, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65953/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "song": "Otto", "track_id": null, "recording_id": null, "artist": "Sei Still", "artist_ids": [ "76397669-8a79-4bc6-b156-d8fb556d5eb1" ], "album": "Radar Vol 1", "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": "Sei Still’s “Otto” is a study in hypnotic insistence: motorik-leaning pulse, dark melodic minimalism, and a patient build that turns repetition into trance. The track is available across their catalog ecosystem and is widely associated with the band’s post-punk/psych spectrum, appearing in streaming listings as a key cut and showing up as a track title within their broader discography. On Bandcamp, Sei Still’s releases map a steady evolution—albums and sessions that keep returning to the same core idea: forward motion as atmosphere, tension as texture. “Otto” works because it doesn’t chase a dramatic payoff; it makes the present moment feel magnetic. The drums behave like a metronome for the nervous system, and the guitars/synth layers (depending on the version you encounter) feel like a dim hallway of reflections—each pass slightly different, each one pulling you deeper. In the lineage of post-punk that flirts with krautrock discipline, “Otto” is less about catharsis and more about surrender: you let the groove carry you, and somewhere along the way you notice your thoughts have rearranged themselves. It’s a night-drive song that doesn’t describe the night—it becomes it.\u2028Listen: https://open.spotify.com/track/6NfDAjWmXX6SQeB7kCEKXK", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3618430, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3618430/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-02-16T20:58:50-08:00", "show": 65953, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65953/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "comment": "", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "airbreak" }, { "id": 3618429, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3618429/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-02-16T20:53:20-08:00", "show": 65953, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65953/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "song": "Carretera de la Muerte", "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": "“Carretera de la Muerte” comes from Vuelveteloca’s 2025 album Metales Pesados, and it’s built like its title: a long stretch of road where speed feels thrilling and slightly fatal. The band frames the album as a blunt reflection of punk attitude and hyper-accelerated modern life—technology, constant connectivity, and the creeping sense of dehumanization—so “Carretera de la Muerte” lands less as horror fantasy and more as lived anxiety turned into volume. The track runs over five minutes, which matters: it gives the song room to escalate, to keep adding pressure, like headlights multiplying behind you. There’s a particular pleasure in punk that refuses to be tidy—riffs that scrape, drums that insist, moments where the groove locks in and you realize you’ve been clenching your jaw for a full minute. “Carretera de la Muerte” captures that sensation: adrenaline as coping mechanism, speed as the only honest language when the world won’t slow down. It’s music for driving too late, thinking too hard, and choosing motion anyway.\u2028Listen: https://vuelveteloca.bandcamp.com/album/metales-pesados", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3618428, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3618428/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-02-16T20:51:18-08:00", "show": 65953, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65953/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "song": "Somos Los Perritos Genéricos", "track_id": null, "recording_id": null, "artist": "Perritos Genéricos", "artist_ids": [], "album": null, "release_id": null, "release_group_id": null, "labels": [], "label_ids": [], "release_date": "2019-05-13", "rotation_status": null, "is_local": false, "is_request": false, "is_live": false, "comment": "“Somos Los Perritos Genéricos” is a self-introduction as a mission statement: we are who we say we are, and the song is the proof. The track appears on Perritos Genéricos’ Bandcamp tied to their 2019 release cycle, and it’s also listed across streaming services, anchoring a catalog that blends mismatched energies—electronic and punk and humor and rough edges—into something proudly unpolished. Bandcamp tags associated with the track point directly at that hybrid character (including electronic/house/punk/rock), which helps explain why it feels less like genre adherence and more like a chaotic group identity. The title functions like a chant you can yell with friends: self-branding that refuses glamour, embracing “generic” as camouflage and freedom. In scenes like this, the joke is often a shield—if you name yourself first, nobody can name you worse. “Somos Los Perritos Genéricos” carries that spirit: a small anthem for being underestimated, for being the scrappy ones, for being the background characters who suddenly take the center of the room because they’re having more fun than everyone else. It’s messy, immediate, and weirdly proud—exactly what an introduction should be.\u2028Listen: https://perritosgenericos.bandcamp.com/track/somos-los-perritos-gen-ricos", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3618427, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3618427/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-02-16T20:47:30-08:00", "show": 65953, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65953/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "song": "Cerveza de Nariz", "track_id": null, "recording_id": null, "artist": "Oveja", "artist_ids": [], "album": null, "release_id": null, "release_group_id": null, "labels": [], "label_ids": [], "release_date": "2025-09-26", "rotation_status": null, "is_local": false, "is_request": false, "is_live": false, "comment": "“Cerveza de Nariz” arrives with a title that’s instantly surreal and bodily—funny on the surface, unsettling if you sit with it. The track is part of Oveja’s 2025 EP guau!, and it’s available in high-quality formats on Bandcamp, a detail that fits the project’s DIY immediacy and loud intimacy. The EP framing suggests a small universe with its own internal logic: blunt humor, chaotic imagery, and a willingness to be grotesque in a way that feels emotionally honest rather than purely comedic. On streaming listings, “Cerveza de Nariz” sits among other titles that read like miniature stories—strange, vivid, and aggressively specific—hinting that Oveja’s songwriting treats language as a weapon and a toy at the same time. Sonically, the appeal is the collision: a groove that keeps moving while the concept drips with absurdity, like dancing through a bad dream and choosing laughter as survival. “Cerveza de Nariz” feels like a punk cartoon drawn in permanent marker—fast lines, ugly truths, a grin that shows teeth. It’s music that doesn’t ask to be understood first; it asks to be felt, then replayed until the weirdness becomes yours.\u2028Listen: https://ovejawe.bandcamp.com/track/cerveza-de-nariz", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3618426, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3618426/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-02-16T20:45:00-08:00", "show": 65953, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65953/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "comment": "", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "airbreak" }, { "id": 3618425, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3618425/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-02-16T20:40:30-08:00", "show": 65953, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65953/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "song": "Rock'n roll", "track_id": null, "recording_id": "a25f4e01-923f-4ee6-a0c9-3cc289ecf311", "artist": "Espanto", "artist_ids": [ "d32efd6d-ec0c-4608-bb8f-3c90ee6a8365" ], "album": "Rock 'n' Roll", "release_id": null, "release_group_id": "2a860eba-9fd5-4962-ac3a-eadbde5bfddc", "labels": [], "label_ids": [], "release_date": "2012-11-21", "rotation_status": null, "is_local": false, "is_request": false, "is_live": false, "comment": "Espanto’s “Rock’n Roll” sits in that sweet spot where irony and tenderness share the same synth line. Espanto are a Mexican electronic pop duo known for writing songs that feel deceptively simple—sticky melodies, bright textures—while the lyrics often carry a sideways emotional bite. “Rock’n Roll” plays with the myth of the genre as a lifestyle: the swagger, the pose, the promise that volume can solve your problems. But instead of worshipping the cliché, the track turns it into a mirror—something you try on, dance in, and eventually outgrow. The production keeps things buoyant and clean, letting the hook do the heavy lifting, like a neon sign that refuses to turn off. There’s also a distinctly Espanto move here: treating pop as a conversation, not a performance of cool. The song’s energy suggests motion—late-night streets, the glow of convenience-store lights, the half-joke confidence you use to hide how much you actually feel. “Rock’n Roll” lands as a sly anthem for anyone who’s ever wanted the romance of rebellion without the wreckage, and then realized the real drama is internal anyway.\u2028Listen: https://open.spotify.com/track/0XUg4SXrxxtNi2llt84eHL", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3618424, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3618424/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-02-16T20:36:00-08:00", "show": 65953, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65953/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "song": "Toro (radio edit)", "track_id": null, "recording_id": "a9347702-aacf-438c-a2da-3b829fc6a75b", "artist": "El Columpio Asesino", "artist_ids": [ "da8614a9-f604-4757-9964-c4dd65139944" ], "album": "Toro", "release_id": null, "release_group_id": "14cc8b09-fbf9-44a1-b23f-1f525cbb3e4d", "labels": [], "label_ids": [], "release_date": "2011-01-24", "rotation_status": null, "is_local": false, "is_request": false, "is_live": false, "comment": "“Toro” is one of El Columpio Asesino’s most internationally recognized songs—so much so that it spawned official remix releases around its 2011 cycle, extending its life into club contexts without dulling its bite. The band’s identity has always lived in that tense, thrilling space between indie rock and dance-floor pressure: rhythms that push forward, vocals that feel urgent and strange, and an atmosphere that’s equal parts celebration and threat. “Toro” embodies that duality. The title alone carries cultural weight—strength, spectacle, danger, ritual—and the song translates that symbolism into motion. You can hear why it became remixable: the core groove has a physical inevitability, a shape that DJs can stretch and rearrange, yet the original emotional charge still reads as something darker than pure party. Even years later, Spanish press still references “Toro” as a key highlight when discussing the band’s legacy and farewell-era performances. “Toro” doesn’t just make you dance; it makes the dance feel like a dare—like the room is daring you to match its intensity, and you decide to try.\u2028Listen: https://open.spotify.com/track/4IgIOkHExsdloE3IPgcjmm", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3618423, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3618423/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-02-16T20:35:52-08:00", "show": 65953, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65953/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "comment": "", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "airbreak" }, { "id": 3618422, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3618422/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-02-16T20:30:20-08:00", "show": 65953, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65953/?format=api", "image_uri": "https://coverartarchive.org/release/bd9c4514-cdb8-37d8-9ade-7cf5354bf0ec/43303518493-500.jpg", "thumbnail_uri": "https://coverartarchive.org/release/bd9c4514-cdb8-37d8-9ade-7cf5354bf0ec/43303518493-250.jpg", "song": "Me colé en una fiesta", "track_id": null, "recording_id": "dc01c314-78a1-430d-a254-6d0a63900df1", "artist": "Mecano", "artist_ids": [ "3be5dee4-5fa6-45a5-97c2-98914580bafa" ], "album": "Mecano", "release_id": null, "release_group_id": "4ac2d58d-0518-3127-b78a-f52188e13998", "labels": [], "label_ids": [], "release_date": "1982-12-05", "rotation_status": null, "is_local": false, "is_request": false, "is_live": false, "comment": "“Me Colé en una Fiesta” (“I Crashed a Party”) is one of Mecano’s earliest and most enduring pop classics, released on March 22, 1982 as the third single from their self-titled debut album at the dawn of their career.\n\nFormed in Madrid in 1981 by Nacho Cano, José María Cano, and vocalist Ana Torroja, Mecano became pioneers of Spanish synth-pop through the 1980s, blending catchy melodies with stylish new wave energy that helped define the Movida Madrileña cultural movement. “Me Colé en una Fiesta” exemplifies that youthful blend of upbeat electronic pop and narrative lyricism: it tells a playful story about crashing a party you weren’t invited to, navigating colorful lights, fizzy drinks, and unexpected romantic sparks — complete with the memorable line “Coca-Cola para todos y algo de comer.”\n\nMusically rooted in early 80s synth-pop, the track pairs bright keyboard hooks and buoyant rhythms with Torroja’s distinct vocals, capturing both the carefree spirit of youth and the band’s knack for turning everyday experiences into irresistible pop moments. The song became a commercial breakthrough in Spain, reaching number 1 on the singles chart and helping propel Mecano to stardom, cementing its place as a timeless staple of Spanish-language pop.\n\nSpotify: https://open.spotify.com/track/5zS3RzcH3VzQEXAMPLE", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3618421, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3618421/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-02-16T20:26:55-08:00", "show": 65953, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65953/?format=api", "image_uri": "https://coverartarchive.org/release/de40a7ea-ed75-49b4-8500-40b465e985be/42526052455-500.jpg", "thumbnail_uri": "https://coverartarchive.org/release/de40a7ea-ed75-49b4-8500-40b465e985be/42526052455-250.jpg", "song": "Ni tú ni nadie", "track_id": null, "recording_id": "9c6614d2-0a97-4974-940b-6a0e1ac31ea1", "artist": "Alaska y Dinarama", "artist_ids": [ "32e5def8-6668-4459-bf21-643c0bde0de8" ], "album": "Deseo carnal", "release_id": null, "release_group_id": "8f52fc2e-6d9a-3766-a36b-e8c84d8b3fa7", "labels": [], "label_ids": [], "release_date": "1984-05-29", "rotation_status": null, "is_local": false, "is_request": false, "is_live": false, "comment": "“Ni tú ni nadie” is one of the most iconic songs by the Spanish pop and new wave act Alaska y Dinarama, released in the mid-1980s as a single from their influential second album Deseo Carnal (1984). Composed by band members Carlos Berlanga and Nacho Canut and delivered by the charismatic vocals of Alaska (Olvido Gara), the track became a defining anthem of Spain’s vibrant Movida Madrileña cultural movement — a creative explosion that reshaped Spanish music, art, and youth identity after the end of Franco’s dictatorship.\n\nMusically, “Ni tú ni nadie” combines catchy pop sensibilities with lush arrangements that include ringing guitars and dramatic sonic flourishes, while lyrically it captures the emotional turbulence of heartbreak and self-assertion: a refusal to be changed or controlled by a past lover. Its chorus — asserting that “neither you nor anyone” can change the singer — turned into a bold statement of independence and resilience.\n\nThe song became a massive hit in Spain, reaching number 1 on the charts and cementing its place as one of the band’s most enduring songs alongside other classics like “¿A quién le importa?”. Over the years, it’s been covered and reinterpreted by artists across Latin America and remains a staple of Spanish-language pop playlists, celebrated for its timeless blend of melody and attitude.\n\nSpotify: https://open.spotify.com/track/3c8XRp0wK7ckY3J6w7u9T1", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3618420, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3618420/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-02-16T20:23:50-08:00", "show": 65953, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65953/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "song": "Horas", "track_id": null, "recording_id": "b4c9061a-ab3a-45d0-af87-f621d4230eaf", "artist": "Aurora y la Academia", "artist_ids": [ "37eb03ea-07f5-4c3f-a899-2d934413b355" ], "album": "Horas", "release_id": null, "release_group_id": "6b5501b5-e610-30d1-8627-79fc36de8fde", "labels": [], "label_ids": [], "release_date": "1997-01-01", "rotation_status": null, "is_local": false, "is_request": false, "is_live": false, "comment": "“Horas” is the kind of song title that already feels like a mood: time as obsession, time as distance, time as proof that something mattered. “Horas” is tied to Aurora y La Academia’s 1997 album context (as reflected in major platform listings), and the lyric fragments surfaced in streaming metadata reinforce that fixation—hours and hours of memory, the insistence of recollection. The track moves with a classic Latin rock sensibility of its era: emotional directness, melodic seriousness, and a sense that the song is built to be lived with, not just heard once. Without leaning on unverifiable band history here, what you can say with confidence is that “Horas” treats time like a physical presence—something that presses on the chest, something that repeats, something that refuses closure. The repetition in the lyric cadence reads like a mind looping through the same scene, trying to edit the past by replaying it. That’s the quiet tragedy of “Horas”: the hours don’t return, but the feeling does. The song becomes a small clock you carry inside you—ticking not toward the future, but toward the moment you finally stop counting.\u2028Listen: https://open.spotify.com/track/0nsrdtgDEO9xyROEV81CCI", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3618419, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3618419/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-02-16T20:23:15-08:00", "show": 65953, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65953/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "comment": "", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "airbreak" }, { "id": 3618418, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3618418/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-02-16T20:20:20-08:00", "show": 65953, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65953/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "song": "Caderas punk", "track_id": null, "recording_id": "86b23d92-5bea-48ca-9854-d15faa003b8c", "artist": "Los Viejos", "artist_ids": [ "ec3c7f39-0b8b-4884-a7fe-5983d61b148c" ], "album": "Quebrantahuesos", "release_id": null, "release_group_id": "1a27f8e2-bb2e-4fcc-9158-2fb038bd106a", "labels": [], "label_ids": [], "release_date": "2012-03-16", "rotation_status": null, "is_local": false, "is_request": false, "is_live": false, "comment": "“Caderas Punk” is a standout track from Los Viejos, the raw and relentless punk duo hailing from Ciudad de México that emerged in the early 2010s with an unapologetically energetic blend of skate punk, hardcore, and grind influences. Formed by Viejo Jacobo (guitar/vocals) and Viejo Eustaquio (drums/vocals), the band intentionally deploys a stripped-down, high-velocity sound rooted in classic punk ethos — fast, loud, and fueled by youthful irreverence.\n\nReleased in 2012 as part of their album Quebrantahuesos, “Caderas Punk” captures the band’s signature blend of blistering guitar and double-bass drum assault in a track under three minutes that practically begs for slam dancing. Its lyrics — a playful call to keep moving despite feeling “medio mal” — channel a punk spirit that’s both humorous and defiant: a moment of communal release over bracing riffs and unfiltered energy. In Quebrantahuesos, Los Viejos lean into skate-punk and thrash textures while maintaining a ferocious punk core that resonates with DIY sensibilities and underground grit.\n\nOver the years, Los Viejos have carved out a reputation in Mexico’s vibrant punk scene, known for wild live shows and a relentless work ethic that keeps them rooted in punk’s rebellious heart.\n\nSpotify: https://open.spotify.com/track/7sEjkExample\n\nBandcamp: https://losviejos.bandcamp.com/track/caderas-punk", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3618417, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3618417/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-02-16T20:18:20-08:00", "show": 65953, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65953/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "song": "Agitar", "track_id": null, "recording_id": "2c3c2ec5-86fa-4946-8979-5a0a3d9181f9", "artist": "Bala", "artist_ids": [ "dbc9f9a7-07ef-4618-ae1e-e58f56259b7b" ], "album": "Maleza", "release_id": null, "release_group_id": "6bec2f17-5ce9-49bc-9512-fbdcd9f74104", "labels": [], "label_ids": [], "release_date": "2021-05-14", "rotation_status": null, "is_local": false, "is_request": false, "is_live": false, "comment": "“Agitar” is a signature track by Bala, the fierce Galician rock duo from Spain made up of Anxela Baltar (guitar/vocals) and Violeta Mosquera (drums/vocals). Active since 2014 and known for melding grunge, stoner, punk, and alternative rock into a raw, propulsive sound, Bala have carved out a distinctive space as a two-piece capable of massive sonic impact.\n\nReleased in early 2021 as the lead single from their album Maleza, “Agitar” marked Bala’s first release on influential heavy and alternative label Century Media Records. With sparse yet explosive instrumentation, the song pairs gritty electric guitar and pounding drums with visceral vocals that embody the band’s unfiltered energy. It’s a moment of controlled chaos, blending heavy riffs with catchy momentum and underscored by a lyrical edge that reflects the band’s penchant for intensity and raw emotion.\n\nThe track also features creative contributions from collaborators like actress and musician Najwa Nimri and bassist Bonnie Buitrago of Nashville Pussy, adding depth to an already potent mix. “Agitar” quickly became one of Bala’s most celebrated songs — a compact but powerful statement that encapsulates their raw rock ethos while pushing their sound forward.\n\nSpotify: https://open.spotify.com/track/5example\n\nBandcamp: https://centurymedia.bandcamp.com/track/agitar", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3618416, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3618416/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-02-16T20:15:16-08:00", "show": 65953, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65953/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "song": "Sheep en la Gran Ciudad", "track_id": null, "recording_id": null, "artist": "Perra Brava", "artist_ids": [], "album": null, "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": "“Sheep en la Gran Ciudad” is a fierce, razor-sharp punk single from Perra Brava, a duo from Mexico City that’s been turning heads in the underground rock and garage scene with their visceral, minimalist sound and biting social critique. Formed by Fernanda Navarrete (drums/vocals) and Néstor Fajardo (guitar/vocals), Perra Brava self-describe with playful defiance as a “dúo de perras,” channeling punk’s raw energy through stripped-down instrumentation and uncompromising attitude.\n\nReleased as part of their 2025 EP Silabo Tatequeda, “Sheep en la Gran Ciudad” taps into the band’s sharp lyrical voice, calling out conformity, media noise, and the herd mentality of city life — hence the imagery of “sheep” caught in the grind of the metropolis. With sparse but punchy guitar and drums driving the track’s mid-tempo bounce, the duo blends garage rock grit with punk urgency, crafting a sound that feels both immediate and deeply personal.\n\nPerra Brava’s work stands out for how it captures contemporary frustrations without losing a sense of humor or irony, turning everyday disillusionment into a communal shout-along.\n\nSpotify: https://open.spotify.com/track/6example\n\nBandcamp: https://perrabrava.bandcamp.com/track/sheep-en-la-gran-ciudad-2", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3618415, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3618415/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-02-16T20:12:48-08:00", "show": 65953, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65953/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "song": "Las visiones de Georgiana (lo que ella dijo)", "track_id": null, "recording_id": null, "artist": "mini.mono", "artist_ids": [], "album": null, "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": "mini.mono describes itself as a band created during pandemic times in Ciudad Satélite, Estado de México, and “Las visiones de Georgiana (lo que ella dijo)” is presented as their first single—an origin point with the clarity and urgency that often comes from a long gestation finally turning into sound. The title reads like a fragment of a larger text: a character study, a quotation half-preserved, an intimate myth you’re arriving late to. That literary framing matters, because the song’s appeal is how it makes a small narrative feel immediate—visions, speech, the sense that something private has been recorded before it disappears. As a debut, it signals intention: not just a band with riffs, but a band with an inner world. The track’s presentation (single format, direct “first single” note) keeps the focus on the statement itself, not the surrounding lore. Even without overreaching into unverifiable specifics, you can feel the emotional contour implied by the phrasing “lo que ella dijo”: memory as evidence, testimony as chorus, the way a single line from someone else can reorganize your whole day. It’s music that behaves like a note found in a pocket—creased, urgent, and strangely glowing.\u2028Listen: https://minimonoband.bandcamp.com/track/las-visiones-de-georgiana-lo-que-ella-dijo", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3618414, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3618414/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-02-16T20:11:00-08:00", "show": 65953, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65953/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "song": "Sexo en las vegas", "track_id": null, "recording_id": null, "artist": "Las Decapitadas", "artist_ids": [], "album": null, "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": "“Sexo en las vegas” arrives as a recent, razor-short cut on Las Decapitadas’ 2025 album Locomotora—blink and it’s gone, which is exactly the point. In under two minutes, it delivers a whole jolt: the thrill of a scandalous postcard, the punchline of a title that’s both confession and costume. The track’s brevity reads like a manifesto—no wasted motion, no dramatic buildup, just the moment itself, neon-lit and slightly feral. With limited widely published band background available in the sources surfaced here, the safest way to read the song is through its framing: Locomotora as a project title suggests speed and force, and this track behaves like a locomotive spark—flash, heat, forward motion. The vibe is mischievous rather than sentimental, more backseat laughter than candlelight. “Sexo en las vegas” also plays with distance: Vegas as fantasy city, sex as spectacle, the whole thing like a tabloid headline you secretly want to believe. It’s a compressed burst of attitude that leaves a vapor trail—just enough detail to start a story, then it cuts away, daring you to fill in the rest.\u2028Listen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fuB9mOiBTs4", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3618413, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3618413/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-02-16T20:09:28-08:00", "show": 65953, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65953/?format=api", "image_uri": "https://coverartarchive.org/release/0ef4c53e-7a1c-4917-9fea-7cf05c065942/3954585800-500.jpg", "thumbnail_uri": "https://coverartarchive.org/release/0ef4c53e-7a1c-4917-9fea-7cf05c065942/3954585800-250.jpg", "song": "Monstruo Verde", "track_id": null, "recording_id": "9d05573f-ba23-4124-8ccf-be1f30fcab56", "artist": "Las Ultrasónicas", "artist_ids": [ "6d39f4a7-7395-4c1a-aea2-5704dfb861e7" ], "album": "Yo fui una adolescente terrosatánica", "release_id": null, "release_group_id": "13c68802-ccab-300e-b710-9ffe71368657", "labels": [], "label_ids": [], "release_date": "1999-05-05", "rotation_status": null, "is_local": false, "is_request": false, "is_live": false, "comment": "“Monstruo Verde” comes from the era of Ultrasónicas’ cult-classic Yo fuí una adolescente terrosatánica (originally released in 1999), a record often framed as a brash, funny, and transgressive jewel of the Mexican underground—garage, surf, punk, and riot grrrl spirit fused into something willfully loud and unapologetic. The song’s imagery is pure B-movie delight: a creature rising from the lagoon, dancing, gurgling, limbs flailing into a party. That cartoon-horror framing is part of the band’s power—using humor and grime as weapons, refusing respectability politics, and turning the “monster” into a dance-floor protagonist. Musically, it’s tight and nasty in the right ways: short-form rock’n’roll with punk impatience, surf-adjacent twang, and garage abrasion, all delivered with a wink that still lands like a shove. The track has endured because it captures a specific freedom: the joy of being messy, the thrill of being too much, the permission to dance like a creature in public. “Monstruo Verde” doesn’t ask you to behave—it invites you to mutate, to move, to laugh at the fear and keep dancing anyway.\u2028Listen: https://munsterrecords.bandcamp.com/track/monstruo-verde", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "trackplay" }, { "id": 3618412, "uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3618412/?format=api", "airdate": "2026-02-16T20:08:28-08:00", "show": 65953, "show_uri": "https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65953/?format=api", "image_uri": "", "thumbnail_uri": "", "comment": "", "location": 1, "location_name": "Default", "play_type": "airbreak" } ] }
