{"next":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/?format=json&limit=20&offset=33060&ordering=-airdate","previous":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/?format=json&limit=20&offset=33020&ordering=-airdate","results":[{"id":3612368,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3612368/?format=json","airdate":"2026-02-02T19:12:20-08:00","show":65825,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65825/?format=json","image_uri":"https://coverartarchive.org/release/125bde97-95cb-4acd-9296-099b5897f571/12087365763-500.jpg","thumbnail_uri":"https://coverartarchive.org/release/125bde97-95cb-4acd-9296-099b5897f571/12087365763-250.jpg","song":"¡A huevo!","track_id":null,"recording_id":"5230fc6e-f306-4e59-8866-1577d370d5e9","artist":"Lost Acapulco","artist_ids":["f85ce554-eefa-4408-be2e-2b55938333dd"],"album":"4","release_id":null,"release_group_id":"3a27f5b6-da67-35fe-a5ea-dd12303794f0","labels":[],"label_ids":[],"release_date":"1998-08-01","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“A Huevo!” is pure propulsion—instrumental surf rock that doesn’t rely on vocals because the guitars do all the talking. Lost Acapulco build the track like a chase scene: rapid-fire picking, twang that cuts like bright sunlight on metal, and a rhythm section that keeps everything sprinting forward. The tone is classic surf—reverb, bite, and swagger—but the attitude is unmistakably local and rowdy, the kind of energy that belongs as much to a sweaty club as it does to a beach fantasy. The title reads like a punchline and a challenge, and the music follows through: it’s confident, fast, and slightly reckless in the best way. What makes “A Huevo!” work is how tight it stays under speed; the band doesn’t smear into noise, they stay locked—riffs are clean, transitions are sharp, and the groove remains danceable even at high velocity. It’s the sound of an instrumental band understanding that hooks still matter: melodic leads repeat with just enough variation to keep you chasing them. If you want surf rock with grit—less postcard, more street-level adrenaline—this track delivers.\u2028Listen: https://open.spotify.com/track/4dTI3LQvbANKwDqGwT5qKA","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3612367,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3612367/?format=json","airdate":"2026-02-02T19:08:44-08:00","show":65825,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65825/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"Santo y Lunave","track_id":null,"recording_id":"bac599a5-4a71-4994-859f-70a1d6f9b3a6","artist":"Los Esquizitos","artist_ids":["605936ce-fd35-428e-99ae-56584f62d49d"],"album":"Los Esquizitos","release_id":null,"release_group_id":"fe9ed2bb-b8fa-3b83-b7dc-d7276b91f346","labels":[],"label_ids":[],"release_date":"1998-01-01","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“Santo y Lunave” feels like surf-punk viewed through a cracked TV screen—campy, frantic, and strangely poetic. Los Esquizitos take the iconography of lucha libre and pulp sci-fi and turn it into a narrative that’s equal parts comic and bleak: El Santo as a stranded hero, hunger and oxygen running out, myth collapsing into survival. The music mirrors that mood with speed and abrasion—guitars that jangle and bite, drums that push the song forward like it’s trying to outrun its own story. Even when the track leans into humor, there’s an undertow of desperation, and that contrast is where it hits. The band’s charm is irreverence with craft: they can sprint, but they still land hooks; they can get weird, but the structure holds. “Santo y Lunave” also captures a specific kind of underground imagination—one that treats Mexican pop culture as a universe of symbols worth remixing, not just referencing. It’s a song that sounds like a zine collage: fast cuts, bold outlines, and emotional sincerity hiding behind mischief. If you like punk that laughs while bleeding—this is it, and it sticks.\u2028Listen: https://losesquizitos.bandcamp.com/track/02-santo-y-lunave","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3612366,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3612366/?format=json","airdate":"2026-02-02T19:04:57-08:00","show":65825,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65825/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"La dosis perfecta","track_id":null,"recording_id":"61762db9-314c-4511-ab30-704d947b735a","artist":"Panteón Rococó","artist_ids":["8536d91f-d976-4578-9776-9376a004e4f0"],"album":"A la izquierda de la Tierra","release_id":null,"release_group_id":"0a312cb3-2fac-3333-b764-e4142a7bf13e","labels":[],"label_ids":[],"release_date":"1999-01-01","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“La Dosis Perfecta” is one of those songs that proves why ska can hold both celebration and heartbreak in the same breath. 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You hear it and immediately understand why it’s endured as an anthem.\u2028Listen: https://open.spotify.com/track/5bymCzswBkt0deeD1hlTIq","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3612365,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3612365/?format=json","airdate":"2026-02-02T19:02:50-08:00","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":3612364,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3612364/?format=json","airdate":"2026-02-02T19:01:32-08:00","show":65825,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65825/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"Demoler","track_id":null,"recording_id":null,"artist":"Presidentes Muertos","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":"“Demoler” is a cover, and Presidentes Muertos treat that fact like a weapon. Instead of polishing the original into nostalgia, they play it as if the song is still dangerous—still capable of starting a fight in the street or inside your own head. The performance is compact and impatient: guitars slash through the mix, the drums keep the pace militant, and the vocal delivery prioritizes force over comfort. What makes this version compelling is how naturally it fits the band’s world; it doesn’t sound like a detour, it sounds like an ancestral thread being pulled into the present. Covers can sometimes feel like a costume, but “Demoler” feels like an inheritance—an old chant revived with fresh bruises. The arrangement stays direct, avoiding unnecessary flourishes, as if the band’s goal is demolition in the literal and emotional sense: break down what’s stale, what’s fake, what’s imposed. It’s also a smart curatorial move—choosing a song with a title that doubles as an instruction, then performing it with the conviction to make it believable. The result is punk that moves fast, hits clean, and leaves a little rubble behind.\u2028Listen: https://presidentesmuertos.bandcamp.com/album/de-cuerpos-y-pueblos","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3612363,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3612363/?format=json","airdate":"2026-02-02T19:00:53-08:00","show":65825,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65825/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"E.Z.L.N.","track_id":null,"recording_id":null,"artist":"Presidentes Muertos","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":"“E.Z.L.N.” lands like a flare shot into the night: short, sharp, and loaded with intent. Presidentes Muertos operate in the tradition of punk as a pressure valve—songs that don’t “build” so much as detonate. The track’s extreme brevity makes every second count: a compact burst of distortion and urgency where rhythm drives the message as much as any lyric. The title alone evokes organized resistance and collective memory, and the band leans into that weight with a delivery that feels confrontational rather than decorative. There’s no wasted motion—riffs are stripped to the bone, percussion pushes forward, and the arrangement stays tight, as if it’s trying to outrun complacency. “E.Z.L.N.” works less like a single and more like a slogan you can shout with your chest: direct, unromantic, and emotionally specific. If you’re drawn to punk that treats politics as lived experience—something that scars, motivates, and demands—this track fits. 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