{"next":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/?format=json&limit=20&offset=33040&ordering=-airdate","previous":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/?format=json&limit=20&offset=33000&ordering=-airdate","results":[{"id":3612406,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3612406/?format=json","airdate":"2026-02-02T21:16:11-08:00","show":65825,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65825/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"Solo Esperar","track_id":null,"recording_id":null,"artist":"Orihuela M.S.S.","artist_ids":["4167a0dc-c514-4808-8192-8409bc75bcad"],"album":"Solo Esperar","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":"“Solo Esperar” is built around a phrase that can feel like resignation or discipline, depending on the day you hear it. Waiting can be passive, but it can also be the hardest active choice—choosing not to react, not to chase, not to force the outcome. Orihuela M.S.S. frames that tension with a track that feels like it’s holding its breath: steady enough to suggest control, but emotionally loaded enough to hint at everything happening under the surface. The song’s pull comes from its patience. Rather than rushing to a big payoff, it leans into the psychological space of delay—what you tell yourself while time drags, how you measure minutes against hope, and how waiting can become an identity if it lasts long enough. That makes “Solo Esperar” feel less like a single emotion and more like a condition. The band’s sensibility favors atmosphere and repetition, which suits the theme perfectly: the track can feel circular in a way that mirrors the experience of waiting itself. “Solo Esperar” ultimately lands as a song about endurance—about staying present in a moment that refuses to resolve, and about the quiet dignity of not pretending it’s easy.\u2028Listen: https://open.spotify.com/track/2IXwtNn8HEqxAdwIq1jxRJ","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3612405,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3612405/?format=json","airdate":"2026-02-02T21:13:17-08:00","show":65825,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65825/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","comment":"","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"airbreak"},{"id":3612404,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3612404/?format=json","airdate":"2026-02-02T21:10:53-08:00","show":65825,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65825/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"Espera","track_id":null,"recording_id":null,"artist":"Vick Vapors","artist_ids":["3b30a86e-614b-4e40-a8c8-0a3ac04bb400"],"album":"Espera","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":"“Espera” is built around suspension—waiting not as calm, but as pressure. Vick Vapors treats the concept like a physical sensation: the moment before impact, the held breath before a decision, the delay that makes desire louder. The track’s electronic sensibility leans into that feeling by emphasizing tension and release rather than narrative detail. Instead of telling a linear story, “Espera” creates a space where anticipation becomes the main character. That makes it feel club-ready but emotionally readable: you don’t need to translate the lyrics to understand what’s happening; you can hear the waiting in the structure. The collaboration with Fevr sharpens the atmosphere further, giving the track a cleaner, more engineered edge—music that sounds like it’s been tightened until it can’t afford unnecessary movement. “Espera” works because it respects repetition as a tool. Waiting is repetitive; the mind loops. The song mirrors that, returning to motifs and pulses that feel like a countdown without revealing the number. When the energy rises, it doesn’t feel like a sudden mood swing; it feels like the inevitable consequence of holding something in too long. “Espera” lands as a focused electronic piece: minimal in message, maximal in sensation—built to make waiting feel loud.\u2028Listen: https://open.spotify.com/track/4dCE5CWiFWwPk40WrmpFRi","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3612403,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3612403/?format=json","airdate":"2026-02-02T21:07:48-08:00","show":65825,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65825/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"Puedes Amarme","track_id":null,"recording_id":null,"artist":"Grizz","artist_ids":["c29f29a3-7586-495e-aeac-81feae873787"],"album":"Unsafe Sanctuary","release_id":null,"release_group_id":"7f7fcb50-9ece-4a49-ad2f-dd8c69d5d373","labels":[],"label_ids":[],"release_date":"2024-10-02","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“Puedes Amarme” frames desire as a question that is also a dare. The title can be read as permission, challenge, or test—can you love me, are you capable, are you willing—and Grizz uses that ambiguity to give the song its tension. Rather than presenting romance as certainty, the track sits in the unstable zone where affection is real but trust is incomplete. That emotional posture makes the song feel modern: love as negotiation, intimacy as something you want but do not fully believe you deserve. The collaboration with Vick Vapors adds a complementary edge, reinforcing the sense that this is not a soft fantasy; it’s a late-night, neon-lit confession with sharp corners. The most effective part of “Puedes Amarme” is its push-pull: the hook invites closeness while the tone suggests defenses still up. That tension is what gives the song replay value, because it can feel like longing one day and like self-protection the next. Grizz’s approach emphasizes atmosphere and direct phrasing, keeping the sentiment clear even when the mood stays shadowed. “Puedes Amarme” ultimately lands as a plea that refuses to kneel: vulnerable, yes, but still proud—asking for love without pretending it comes without risk.\u2028Listen: https://open.spotify.com/track/2MpaxCmJ4hhheVcVaSeYiD","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3612402,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3612402/?format=json","airdate":"2026-02-02T21:05:00-08:00","show":65825,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65825/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"Women Respond to Bass","track_id":null,"recording_id":"1089cefe-7fb4-45e9-ac1f-67c385afb010","artist":"Sextile","artist_ids":["1789b5dc-e2ea-47aa-9ca0-48596dbb5091"],"album":"yes, please.","release_id":null,"release_group_id":"d95cb4e8-a24f-4870-b191-93cf0b53a160","labels":[],"label_ids":[],"release_date":"2025-05-02","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“Women Respond to Bass” is a high-energy track by Los Angeles-based post-punk/electronic duo Sextile, featured on their 2025 album yes, please. — released on Sacred Bones Records. Sextile consists of Melissa Scaduto and Brady Keehn, a pair known for blending post-punk, synth-punk, techno, and rave influences into an explosive sonic cocktail that channels both dancefloor intensity and punk urgency.\n\nThe song lives up to its title with thumping, bass-driven rhythms, rapid synth lines, and a playful, rebellious attitude that makes it feel like a rave anthem. Built around a propulsive tempo and raw electronic textures, “Women Respond to Bass” was described by Scaduto as a “sassy strutter for the girls, gays, and theys,” capturing a celebratory, inclusive energy that invites listeners to move and respond to the beat.\n\nIts blend of industrial-tinged electronic production and punk spirit situates the track at the intersection of rave culture and underground rock, making it a standout on yes, please. for fans of boundary-pushing dance music.","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3612401,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3612401/?format=json","airdate":"2026-02-02T21:01:11-08:00","show":65825,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65825/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"Hey Tú!","track_id":null,"recording_id":null,"artist":"Hocico","artist_ids":["b16fd684-831e-4128-8120-6626e76f88c6"],"album":"Hey Tú!","release_id":null,"release_group_id":null,"labels":[],"label_ids":[],"release_date":"2025-12-09","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“Hey Tú!” highlights Hocico’s ability to make confrontation sound exhilarating. The title is a direct address—no metaphor, no distance—so the track begins already in your face. Hocico have always excelled at turning aggression into architecture: hard electronic edges, precision in rhythm, and a vocal presence that feels like a warning siren rather than a plea. With “Hey Tú!,” that energy is sharpened by the collaboration with Prayers, which brings an added sense of menace and swagger. The result is a song that feels like a challenge thrown across a room, daring someone to step closer. What makes the track compelling is how it balances chaos with control. The sound is intense, but it’s not sloppy; it’s engineered to hit consistently, like a machine designed for catharsis. Lyrically, the hook functions as a repeated confrontation—an insistence that you respond, that you stop hiding behind silence. That directness is part of Hocico’s appeal: they don’t suggest; they declare. “Hey Tú!” lands as a modern industrial club weapon—built for loud speakers and darker rooms—while still feeling personal, as if the anger is aimed at one specific person rather than the void. It’s urgency made danceable.\u2028Listen: https://hocico666.bandcamp.com/track/hey-t","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3612400,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3612400/?format=json","airdate":"2026-02-02T20:59:16-08:00","show":65825,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65825/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","comment":"","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"airbreak"},{"id":3612399,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3612399/?format=json","airdate":"2026-02-02T20:54:07-08:00","show":65825,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65825/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"Efecto 2000","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":"“Efecto 2000” captures Vuelveteloca’s psych-rock identity in motion: a band that treats groove and propulsion as forms of trance. The title hints at a specific era—turn-of-the-millennium futurism, speed, metallic shine—and the track’s premise reads like a concept as much as a song: an “effect” that changes perception. Vuelveteloca’s writing tends to emphasize atmosphere and momentum, letting repetition become a tunnel rather than a loop. That makes “Efecto 2000” feel less like verse-chorus storytelling and more like a ride: patterns stacking, tension accumulating, and release arriving through persistence. As a Chilean psych-rock project, they lean into the genre’s best trait—time dilation—where five minutes can feel like one long inhale. The track’s appeal is that it can function as a standalone single or as a portal into their broader world; it suggests a band thinking in albums, scenes, and environments, not just songs. “Efecto 2000” is built for late-night driving energy: hypnotic but alert, playful but slightly ominous, like a neon sign flickering over an empty highway. \u2028Listen: https://open.spotify.com/track/47cEKVHkMBC9FotbnFk7Ah","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3612397,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3612397/?format=json","airdate":"2026-02-02T20:50:00-08:00","show":65825,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65825/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"Olvidamos","track_id":null,"recording_id":null,"artist":"Sunset Images","artist_ids":["12606bae-9da6-45b3-86f0-6fefae31e3c7"],"album":"Oscilador","release_id":null,"release_group_id":null,"labels":[],"label_ids":[],"release_date":"2026-01-23","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“Olvidamos” lives in the tension between memory and exhaustion: the title declares forgetting, but the song feels like the struggle to actually achieve it. Sunset Images operate in a high-intensity, distortion-forward world where emotion is carried as much by texture as by lyrics, and this track uses that force to express a very human limit—“ya no puedo más” as a recurring emotional posture rather than a single dramatic moment. The band’s approach turns personal crisis into a larger sonic environment: the feeling of being surrounded by the same day repeating, the same frustration, the same absence. What’s compelling is how the track frames forgetting not as relief but as necessity—something you attempt when holding on has become unlivable. Released in the orbit of their Oscilador material, “Olvidamos” also signals a band expanding reach while keeping the emotional stakes raw: heavy sound, direct sentiment, no decorative distance. It’s the kind of song that plays like a release valve—loud enough to drown out the thoughts you can’t stop rehearsing. “Olvidamos” doesn’t romanticize suffering; it puts it under a microscope and then turns the volume up. \u2028Listen: https://sunsetimages.bandcamp.com/track/olvidamos","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3612398,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3612398/?format=json","airdate":"2026-02-02T20:46:27-08:00","show":65825,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65825/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","comment":"","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"airbreak"},{"id":3612396,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3612396/?format=json","airdate":"2026-02-02T20:41:48-08:00","show":65825,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65825/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"What’s holding you?","track_id":null,"recording_id":null,"artist":"Lorelle Meets the Obsolete","artist_ids":["0e826d93-0b1c-46c9-b1ce-d3b5a8e567ca"],"album":"Chambers","release_id":null,"release_group_id":"ebb0ad63-58a2-4174-9e71-5b620a6bb003","labels":[],"label_ids":[],"release_date":"2014-02-01","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“What’s holding you?” is one of Lorelle Meets The Obsolete’s defining statements: hypnotic, emotionally charged, and structured around a question that refuses to disappear. The line isn’t rhetorical—it’s confrontational in the gentlest way, like a hand on your shoulder pushing you to answer honestly. LMTO’s signature is psychedelic rock with a dark, dreamy undertow, and this track uses repetition as a psychological device: the question circles until it stops being about “you” and starts sounding like self-interrogation. The mood is both intimate and expansive—romantic in texture, but uneasy in implication—so the song becomes a portrait of paralysis: social friction, fading will, and the desire to move without knowing how. That tension is what makes the chorus so effective: it’s simple, but it opens a trapdoor. As part of the Chambers era, the track also shows the duo’s craft in building atmosphere without sacrificing melodic clarity. “What’s holding you?” doesn’t resolve the dilemma; it documents the moment you recognize it. It’s a song that can feel like a spell—beautiful, and slightly dangerous. \u2028Listen: https://obsoletelorelle.bandcamp.com/track/what-s-holding-you","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3612395,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3612395/?format=json","airdate":"2026-02-02T20:35:25-08:00","show":65825,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65825/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"A la orilla del sol","track_id":null,"recording_id":"c0c7bd7e-dc0c-4236-8161-958110c32e7e","artist":"Santa Sabina","artist_ids":["a8542271-1d5a-426e-b098-8aeecd197523"],"album":"Santa Sabina","release_id":null,"release_group_id":"54d75ac2-0000-376b-aed5-11df5f0e931c","labels":[],"label_ids":[],"release_date":"1992-01-01","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“A la Orilla del Sol” is one of the most evocative songs by Santa Sabina, the influential Mexican rock band formed in the late 1980s and led by the powerful voice of Rita Guerrero. The track appears on their self-titled debut album Santa Sabina (1992), a landmark release that blends rock, jazz, and experimental sounds, helping establish the group as a key reference in alternative rock in Spanish.\n\nMusically, the song stands out for its dreamlike, meditative atmosphere, with arrangements that weave together guitars, keyboards, and subtle percussion, all supporting a lyric rich in metaphor. The lyrics explore contrasts between light and darkness, the sun and the sea, creating poetic imagery that speaks to inner awakening, longing, and quiet contemplation. The song suggests an emotional journey from solitude to love, from shadow into clarity, capturing a universal search for meaning and connection.\n\n“A la Orilla del Sol” has endured as a fan favorite and remains a clear example of how Santa Sabina fused lyrical depth with a unique musical sensitivity, solidifying their lasting legacy in Mexican rock.\n\n🎧 Listen on YouTube:\nhttps://youtu.be/JGt_DQRlYhM","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3612394,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3612394/?format=json","airdate":"2026-02-02T20:34:16-08:00","show":65825,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65825/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","comment":"","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"airbreak"},{"id":3612393,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3612393/?format=json","airdate":"2026-02-02T20:30:28-08:00","show":65825,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65825/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"OJALÁ FUERA TU VOZ","track_id":null,"recording_id":null,"artist":"Madame Récamier","artist_ids":["04b13b72-3e03-4140-8082-729a698d1504"],"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":"“OJALÁ FUERA TU VOZ” leans into Madame Récamier’s greatest strength: writing songs that feel like nostalgia crystallized into something immediate. The title is a wish with ache inside it—wanting a voice to be yours, wanting closeness that cannot be forced—so the emotional premise is intimate before the first line even lands. Madame Récamier’s approach is often cinematic in a quiet way: retro-pop warmth, romantic detail, and a devotion to melody that makes longing sound elegant rather than chaotic. Here, the wish reads as both devotion and displacement. It can be heard as admiration so intense it becomes a kind of self-erasure, or as a fantasy of comfort—if your voice were mine, maybe I would finally know what to say. That tension is what keeps the song from being simply pretty; it is pretty, but the prettiness is haunted. The track’s appeal is how it treats yearning as a real physical environment: you can feel the distance the wish is trying to cross. Madame Récamier does not oversell the emotion; she lets the title do the heavy lifting, and then builds a song that sounds like it is floating while quietly refusing to let go.\u2028Listen: https://open.spotify.com/track/1TijFtRmKemdrnEmtPwV7o","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3612392,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3612392/?format=json","airdate":"2026-02-02T20:26:45-08:00","show":65825,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65825/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"De mis pasos","track_id":null,"recording_id":"6e178754-97ce-4e20-a42a-4c72399c1fc9","artist":"Julieta Venegas","artist_ids":["601f8530-9009-4f73-94fb-a355b4497b70"],"album":"Aquí","release_id":null,"release_group_id":"d9078483-22e5-3012-8ad0-d3bf22a60ce6","labels":[],"label_ids":[],"release_date":"1997-01-01","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“De Mis Pasos” is a foundational Julieta Venegas song because it introduces her voice as both storyteller and architect of feeling: direct, melodic, and emotionally intelligent without being ornate. The title implies consequence—steps that leave a trail—and the song carries that sense of self-accounting, as if the narrator is learning to read her own choices like evidence. Julieta’s writing has always been strongest when it balances vulnerability with motion: she does not linger in a single emotion; she moves through it, naming what hurts while still sounding like someone who intends to live past it. That quality is what makes “De Mis Pasos” timeless. It is not a dramatic breakup monologue; it is a portrait of reflection, of noticing patterns, of accepting that your path has shaped you whether you meant it to or not. The track’s charm is also in how musicality supports meaning—her phrasing is precise, and the melody feels like it is walking forward even when the words look backward. “De Mis Pasos” lands as early proof of Julieta’s rare ability to make alternative pop feel personal without turning it into diary theater: honest, crafted, and quietly brave.\u2028Listen: https://open.spotify.com/track/1xntpNQ5k0XwveJrG1nFhW","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3612391,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3612391/?format=json","airdate":"2026-02-02T20:23:12-08:00","show":65825,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65825/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"Trueno","track_id":null,"recording_id":null,"artist":"Porter","artist_ids":[],"album":"Trueno","release_id":null,"release_group_id":null,"labels":[],"label_ids":[],"release_date":"2026-01-15","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“Trueno” arrives with Porter’s signature sense of scale: a title that implies impact, and a band language that tends to treat emotion as something cinematic rather than small. Porter have long balanced indie-rock musculature with surrealist touches—melodic lines that feel clean and immediate, paired with atmosphere that suggests bigger questions behind the words. With “Trueno,” the first impression is force and inevitability: thunder as warning, as release, as a sound you cannot negotiate with. The track leans into that idea by moving with certainty—built to feel like a front approaching rather than a mood passing. Porter’s best material often operates like a narrative you only partially understand on first listen: imagery and sensation doing as much work as literal storytelling. “Trueno” fits that tradition, reading like an internal storm rendered outward—something spiritual, something physical, something you either withstand or surrender to. What makes the song effective is that it does not need to be frantic to feel powerful; it holds a steady pressure, as if it is confident the thunder will land anyway. In Porter’s catalog, it plays like a fresh signal that they are still interested in grandeur, but not at the expense of clarity.\u2028Listen: https://open.spotify.com/track/74wsNBsGTs7NjoQXaEk4Ga","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3612390,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3612390/?format=json","airdate":"2026-02-02T20:18:34-08:00","show":65825,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65825/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"La noche total","track_id":null,"recording_id":"63e04a68-d9ac-4f82-b611-74587a8e8e65","artist":"Belafonte Sensacional","artist_ids":["2fa364f9-8c12-46bd-8846-437a5dbfdc10"],"album":"Soy piedra","release_id":null,"release_group_id":"3515f9c5-095c-4515-a490-546f1a95013c","labels":[],"label_ids":[],"release_date":"2019-03-15","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“La Noche Total” is Belafonte Sensacional at their most memorable: a song that turns nightlife into something larger than partying—night as ritual, confession, and survival strategy. The band’s strength has always been how they blend streetwise storytelling with melodic directness, and here they treat the night like a container for everything the day refuses to hold: longing, mess, tenderness, and the sense of drifting together because there’s nowhere else to put the feeling. The title suggests completeness—total night, no exit—and the track rides that idea with a mix of romance and dread. It doesn’t paint the night as pure freedom; it frames it as a place where emotions can finally speak without asking permission. That push-pull is what makes the song last: it can feel like celebration or like escape, depending on your mood. As part of the Soy Piedra era, it also captures the band’s gift for writing hooks that don’t dilute the message—catchy, but not soft. “La Noche Total” is an anthem for people who understand the night as identity. \u2028Listen: https://holabelafonte.bandcamp.com/track/la-noche-total","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3612389,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3612389/?format=json","airdate":"2026-02-02T20:16:34-08:00","show":65825,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65825/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","comment":"","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"airbreak"},{"id":3612388,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3612388/?format=json","airdate":"2026-02-02T20:13:30-08:00","show":65825,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65825/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"La última inocencia","track_id":null,"recording_id":"ec0f966d-62ea-4221-8f2d-fbc41e1452f3","artist":"Grito Exclamac!ón","artist_ids":["bb216360-0856-4ba5-b3d6-2d9a4e65a2d5"],"album":"Grito Exclamac!ón","release_id":null,"release_group_id":"00e8b682-f380-4e8b-8302-fb16ce41729b","labels":[],"label_ids":[],"release_date":"2024-06-28","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“La Última Inocencia” is built around a brutal, universal idea: the moment you realize something cannot be unknowable again. The title implies a final threshold—an “after” you can’t reverse—and Grito Exclamac!ón treats that as both theme and tension. The song’s emotional core isn’t simply sadness; it’s the sharper feeling of clarity arriving too late. Even without leaning on exposition, the track communicates urgency: the words read like a reckoning, and the phrasing suggests someone trying to name a change that happened quietly but permanently. As a project, Grito Exclamac!ón thrives on directness—punk-minded, compact, allergic to filler—so the weight of “última” feels intentional. The track doesn’t romanticize innocence; it mourns it as a resource that gets spent. What makes the song effective is that it can be heard as personal (a relationship, a friendship, a family rupture) or societal (a generation’s disillusionment). Either way, it’s about the instant you stop expecting gentleness from the world—and what you do with yourself after that. \u2028Listen: https://open.spotify.com/track/5ZLx7hK3l0eVtz2xOrh8fO","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3612387,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3612387/?format=json","airdate":"2026-02-02T20:09:47-08:00","show":65825,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65825/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"canicula en el cerro","track_id":null,"recording_id":null,"artist":"unperro andaluz","artist_ids":[],"album":"peek!","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":"With a name that nods to surrealism, unperro andaluz approaches “canicula en el cerro” like a heat-mirage narrative: concrete scenery, unstable perception, and a body reacting to the environment as much as to emotion. The title alone sets the temperature—cánicula as oppressive, lingering heat—and places it “en el cerro,” where distance and elevation can feel like isolation rather than freedom. The song’s power is in how it keeps returning to that landscape as a psychological space: the hill is not just a setting, it is where pressure accumulates. Lyrically, the vibe suggests endurance and irritability—the kind of day where every thought sticks, every memory feels sharper, and even small decisions become heavier. As a band, unperro andaluz leans into mood-building rather than punchlines, letting repetition and atmosphere do the storytelling. “canicula en el cerro” lands as a piece about friction—between the self and its surroundings, between wanting relief and not knowing where to find it. \u2028Listen: https://unperroandaluz.bandcamp.com/album/canicula-en-el-cerro","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"}]}