{"next":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/?format=json&limit=20&offset=35440&ordering=-airdate","previous":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/?format=json&limit=20&offset=35400&ordering=-airdate","results":[{"id":3606500,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3606500/?format=json","airdate":"2026-01-19T20:29:20-08:00","show":65702,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65702/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"Sheep en la Gran Ciudad","track_id":null,"recording_id":null,"artist":"PERRA BRAVA","artist_ids":[],"album":"Silabo Tatequeda","release_id":null,"release_group_id":null,"labels":[],"label_ids":[],"release_date":"2025-10-02","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“Sheep en la Gran Ciudad” leans into punk urgency with a pointed, urban bite. The track’s propulsion comes from tight, high-strung guitars and a forward-driving rhythm section that keeps the tension up even when the melody tries to open out. Lyrically, it reads like a confrontation with modern city life: pressure, surveillance, and the emotional static that builds when you’re surrounded by noise but still feel isolated. There’s an intentional bluntness in the phrasing—less poetic ornament, more direct impact—so the hook lands like a slogan you can’t shake. The production is crisp enough to let the arrangement hit cleanly, but it keeps a raw edge where it counts, especially in the vocal delivery, which feels like it’s balancing sarcasm and frustration at the same time. The song also functions as a scene snapshot: the “big city” isn’t romanticized, it’s a system you’re forced to navigate, with humor and anger intertwined. If you’re sequencing a set, this works well as a momentum-builder that also sharpens the mood.\u2028\n\nListen: https://perrabrava.bandcamp.com/track/sheep-en-la-gran-ciudad-2","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3606499,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3606499/?format=json","airdate":"2026-01-19T20:27:14-08:00","show":65702,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65702/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","comment":"","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"airbreak"},{"id":3606498,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3606498/?format=json","airdate":"2026-01-19T20:22:30-08:00","show":65702,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65702/?format=json","image_uri":"https://coverartarchive.org/release/344fcfb5-88d0-425f-a913-bd2ff2640ddf/12396745151-500.jpg","thumbnail_uri":"https://coverartarchive.org/release/344fcfb5-88d0-425f-a913-bd2ff2640ddf/12396745151-250.jpg","song":"Jeszcze raz","track_id":null,"recording_id":"ad2b777b-3858-4a57-90a7-d5e979142692","artist":"Belgrado","artist_ids":["60db8325-fb6f-4150-9fd0-641130218f8c"],"album":"Siglo XXI","release_id":null,"release_group_id":"650ad0af-94ec-4ef9-91c4-cba877d82761","labels":[],"label_ids":[],"release_date":"2013-09-10","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“Jeszcze Raz” is a standout track by Barcelona-based post-punk outfit Belgrado, featured on their 2013 LP Siglo XXI. The band, formed in 2010, blends coldwave and classic post-punk influences with a European edge, drawing comparisons to ‘80s goth and new wave icons while maintaining a contemporary rawness.\nMusically, Jeszcze Raz moves at a brisk pace (around 165 BPM) with jagged guitar lines, driving bass, and propulsive drums that balance melody and muscular rhythm. The vocals—performed in Polish—add a haunting dimension, giving the track both immediacy and mystique. The repeated refrain and stark vocal delivery create a hypnotic loop that pulls listeners into its introspective world.\n\nLyrically, the song reflects a yearning for perspective and connection—imploring a listener or partner to look again (“Jeszcze raz” translates to “once again”) and consider a fresh viewpoint. Themes of silence, reflection, and frustration weave through the sparse but evocative words.\nOverall, Jeszcze Raz showcases Belgrado’s ability to marry moody atmosphere with kinetic energy, making it a compelling entry in modern post-punk.\n\nLink (official video): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IMtx8mizzck","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3606496,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3606496/?format=json","airdate":"2026-01-19T20:17:10-08:00","show":65702,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65702/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"Entre dos tierras","track_id":null,"recording_id":"de6d334c-f1c0-4cb9-82ca-f07be1ffc5ba","artist":"Héroes del Silencio","artist_ids":["4bb712d6-8be9-4c09-810a-eb3bed2be345"],"album":"Senderos de traición","release_id":null,"release_group_id":"5e0ebe19-fed7-3379-a1cd-3e038f511821","labels":["EMI Music Spain, S.A."],"label_ids":["dd70ef38-62ca-4ddb-88be-fe06f6b94f3f"],"release_date":"1990-05-04","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“Entre dos tierras” is the first track on Senderos de traición (1990) and one of Héroes del Silencio’s defining statements: a song built on tension, drive, and moral confrontation. Its enduring power comes from how it balances scale and focus. The guitars are muscular and insistent, but the song never feels like empty grandiosity; it’s structured like a march, with the vocal delivering commands and warnings rather than soft confession. The title—“between two lands”—invites multiple readings: being trapped between choices, between versions of yourself, between loyalty and escape. That ambiguity is part of why it continues to connect across generations. Historically, it marked a major step in the band’s rise, and the track’s visual legacy (the official video and the song’s long afterlife in live sets) reinforces how central it is to their canon. For radio, it’s an anchor track with real pacing power. You can build toward it as a climax in a Spanish rock block, or use it to kick a set into higher drama without losing momentum. It’s not background music; it’s a declaration—lean, intense, and designed to be sung back.\u2028\n\nListen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SzimletXB7M","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3606497,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3606497/?format=json","airdate":"2026-01-19T20:15:47-08:00","show":65702,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65702/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","comment":"","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"airbreak"},{"id":3606495,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3606495/?format=json","airdate":"2026-01-19T20:11:48-08:00","show":65702,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65702/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"La Muerte","track_id":null,"recording_id":null,"artist":"E.V.A","artist_ids":[],"album":"II","release_id":null,"release_group_id":null,"labels":[],"label_ids":[],"release_date":"2024-11-22","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“La Muerte” (“Death”) appears on II (an EP release credited to E.V.A), and it has been circulated through independent channels including a Bandcamp listing that emphasizes high-resolution audio and direct supporter access. That context suggests a scene-rooted release strategy: not optimized for algorithmic background listening, but for listeners who want to lean in. Thematically, a title like “Death” can be either literal or symbolic—endings, rupture, transformation—and the best versions of this trope avoid melodrama by focusing on specificity: how endings feel in the body, how they change your perception of time, how they leave traces. Public critical commentary on the EP notes a straightforward approach that benefits the songs—clarity and simplicity rather than ornamental complication—which aligns with the title’s weight: you don’t need lyrical gymnastics to talk about mortality; you need commitment. For radio sequencing, “La Muerte” works as a tonal anchor in darker sets: post-punk, coldwave, or synth-driven alternative. It can also serve as the moment a playlist turns from playful to serious. If you introduce it, keep the framing simple and let the title create the gravity. A track like this wants space to resonate.\n\n\u2028Listen: https://flexidiscos.bandcamp.com/track/la-muerte","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3606494,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3606494/?format=json","airdate":"2026-01-19T20:10:40-08:00","show":65702,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65702/?format=json","image_uri":"https://coverartarchive.org/release/c982df28-ae1a-4d99-9532-ee6ad9e591f6/39614330298-500.jpg","thumbnail_uri":"https://coverartarchive.org/release/c982df28-ae1a-4d99-9532-ee6ad9e591f6/39614330298-250.jpg","song":"maldito calor","track_id":null,"recording_id":"3528b9eb-f181-4505-bce0-8ad9e1a053ae","artist":"Sin Bragas","artist_ids":["6fc70762-fdad-4d40-a197-0725ba02898c"],"album":"sin bragas","release_id":null,"release_group_id":"1e92c02b-540c-4d3d-b817-f2529f82668d","labels":[],"label_ids":[],"release_date":"2020-10-13","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“maldito calor” (“damn heat”) is a compact 2020 track—about a minute long—built like a quick flash of irritation and survival. The title reads as everyday complaint, but also as something heavier: heat as anxiety, heat as agitation, heat as the atmosphere you can’t escape. The brevity matters. At this length, the song behaves like a punchline and a punch at the same time: it makes a point, spikes emotion, and exits before it can become comfortable. That’s a classic strength in punk-adjacent formats—short tracks that hit harder because they refuse to over-explain. Public catalog metadata confirms the track’s presence within an EP context, which suggests it’s one piece of a wider set of small, sharp observations rather than a standalone “single moment.” For programming, it’s a highly practical tool. You can use it as a reset between longer songs, or stack it with other micro-tracks to create a rapid montage of energy. It also works well before a heavier track—like striking a match before you drop gasoline—because the irritation in the title primes the listener for escalation. It is minimal by design, and that minimalism is the point.\u2028\n\nListen: https://open.spotify.com/track/7LRZQgQiXd1JWvBx7WPPm8","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3606493,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3606493/?format=json","airdate":"2026-01-19T20:09:13-08:00","show":65702,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65702/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"Miedo","track_id":null,"recording_id":"7999bfcd-2c22-40d3-9d13-9adfee63b5b8","artist":"Sistema de Entretenimiento","artist_ids":["053f4e53-b73e-47d4-a333-7b3e083ad635"],"album":"Sistema de Entretenimiento","release_id":null,"release_group_id":"64420a8e-7046-4c25-af65-36a7bcd8d304","labels":[],"label_ids":[],"release_date":"2022-10-13","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“miedo” (“fear”) is a short, early-2020s cut that treats its theme with blunt efficiency: one word title, fast runtime, no excess. The track appears in the band’s recorded output across major platforms and also via an indie label Bandcamp page, which supports the sense that this is part of a cohesive DIY catalog rather than an isolated upload. “Fear” is a familiar subject, but the key is how a song frames it—fear as internal voice, fear as social condition, fear as something you learn and unlearn. Because public-facing narrative detail is limited here, the most reliable read comes from design: minimalism as aesthetic. Songs like this often land through rhythm and repetition—phrases that feel like a loop you can’t break—mirroring how fear behaves in real life. For radio sequencing, it’s an effective jolt: it can bridge between punk and synthy post-punk because it typically relies on momentum rather than ornate arrangement. It also works as a tension spike between longer songs, keeping the set from drifting. If you introduce it, lean into the concept: “fear” as a system, not just a feeling. The title gives you the hook; the track delivers the pressure.\u2028\n\nListen: https://fastfoodrecords.bandcamp.com/track/miedo","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3606491,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3606491/?format=json","airdate":"2026-01-19T20:06:05-08:00","show":65702,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65702/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"Incómodo","track_id":null,"recording_id":null,"artist":"Las eras","artist_ids":[],"album":"Incómodo","release_id":null,"release_group_id":null,"labels":[],"label_ids":[],"release_date":"2025-12-24","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“Incómodo” (“Uncomfortable”) is a late-2025 single release—short, direct, and built to land quickly. The Bandcamp presentation emphasizes high-quality audio availability and single-track focus, which typically signals a deliberate statement rather than a placeholder drop. The title suggests a familiar emotional frame: discomfort as truth-telling, discomfort as confrontation, discomfort as a refusal to smooth over what’s wrong. With limited press detail surfaced, the safest and most accurate approach is to treat “Incómodo” as a mood-and-posture track: a song designed to embody tension rather than explain it. That makes it useful for radio, because its meaning is legible even if the listener misses specific lines: “uncomfortable” is a universal condition, and it’s often the starting point for change. As a programming tool, it works well between louder tracks because it can maintain intensity without relying on maximal volume; or between softer songs as a sharp pivot that raises stakes. If you’re building a set with modern Latin alternative, post-punk, or synth-leaning indie, “Incómodo” fits as a contemporary marker—cleanly packaged, emotionally pointed, and intentionally unresolved.\u2028\n\nListen: https://laseras.bandcamp.com/track/inc-modo","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3606492,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3606492/?format=json","airdate":"2026-01-19T20:03:15-08:00","show":65702,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65702/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"Ellos quieren sangre","track_id":null,"recording_id":"3df703af-8ec0-4ff1-8beb-a0f54c97ec14","artist":"Varsovia","artist_ids":["9130ef49-e43c-4e5c-ac54-7900ea1c5d75"],"album":"Recursos Inhumanos","release_id":null,"release_group_id":"866aae12-fde2-4ad9-8d25-7cb7ddb83fb8","labels":[],"label_ids":[],"release_date":"2014-11-22","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“Ellos quieren sangre” (“They want blood”) is a cold, direct title that sets the track’s tone before it begins. The song appears on Varsovia’s 2014 album Recursos Inhumanos, and it has also circulated through label/compilation contexts later, underscoring its durability in the band’s catalog. The phrase “they want blood” reads like social commentary: a critique of spectacle, punishment, and institutional appetite—whether political, cultural, or interpersonal. Even without leaning on speculative detail, the release footprint makes one point clear: this is a key piece, consistently listed and reissued through recognized channels. That matters because songs that survive beyond their first release usually do so for a reason—either they’re a live staple, a fan anchor, or the clearest articulation of an aesthetic. In sequencing, this track functions best when you want gravity without melodrama. It can sit inside a darkwave/post-punk set as a thematic thesis: the world’s violence framed not as chaos, but as demand. If you introduce it, keep the language simple and let the title do its work. It’s already a statement.\u2028\n\nListen: https://buhrecords.bandcamp.com/track/ellos-quieren-sangre","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3606490,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3606490/?format=json","airdate":"2026-01-19T20:02:11-08:00","show":65702,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65702/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","comment":"","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"airbreak"},{"id":3606489,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3606489/?format=json","airdate":"2026-01-19T19:58:13-08:00","show":65702,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65702/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"Barrio de Tepito","track_id":null,"recording_id":null,"artist":"Torso Corso","artist_ids":[],"album":"Martin Delgado Presenta","release_id":null,"release_group_id":null,"labels":[],"label_ids":[],"release_date":"2020-10-28","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“Barrio de Tepito” (released in 2020) carries a heavy sense of place right in the title—Tepito is invoked less as a postcard and more as a charged atmosphere. The track is credited to Torso Corso (formerly Fermento) and was included in the compilation Martín Delgado presenta: La Otra Música x AireLibre.FM, which frames it as part of a broader scene and context rather than a standalone single. Sonically, it leans into tension and movement: repeated motifs that feel hypnotic, with a forward drive that suggests late-night streets, bright lights, and the pressure of crowds. The performance style feels more about momentum than polish, and that choice suits a song named after a neighborhood known for intensity and survival. If you approach it as an instrumental narrative, it reads like a sequence of turns—moments where the groove tightens, then loosens, then tightens again, as if the music is navigating space. It is a track that rewards volume, not for aggression alone, but for detail—how layers sit together and how repetition becomes force.\u2028\n\nListen: https://laotramusica.bandcamp.com/track/torso-corso-fka-fermento-barrio-de-tepito","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3606488,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3606488/?format=json","airdate":"2026-01-19T19:54:00-08:00","show":65702,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65702/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"Los Duelistas","track_id":null,"recording_id":null,"artist":"Los Árboles Mentirosos","artist_ids":[],"album":"Dias Grises","release_id":null,"release_group_id":null,"labels":[],"label_ids":[],"release_date":"2022-04-08","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“Los Duelistas” appears on Días Grises (2022), and it plays like a slow-burn confrontation: measured pacing, a steady pulse, and a vocal line that suggests the narrator is holding something back until the last possible second. The arrangement favors atmosphere over flash—guitars that shimmer or smear at the edges, a rhythm section that keeps the track moving without forcing a climax too early. That restraint makes the emotional payoff sharper, because the song’s tension comes from accumulation: small changes in texture, emphasis, and dynamics that gradually tilt the mood from reflective to insistent. Even if you do not catch every lyrical detail on first listen, the framing is clear: a duel is a ritualized conflict, and the song treats conflict as something intimate—personal history meeting the present tense. It is also a strong example of the band’s ability to make “melancholy” feel active rather than passive, like motion through fog instead of getting stuck inside it.\u2028\n\nListen: https://open.spotify.com/album/04o1UCwDFrOPmHEE9iRQKy","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3606487,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3606487/?format=json","airdate":"2026-01-19T19:50:10-08:00","show":65702,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65702/?format=json","image_uri":"https://coverartarchive.org/release/58aeebe1-6796-4fb1-b8da-fb46bc52dd9c/22604117436-500.jpg","thumbnail_uri":"https://coverartarchive.org/release/58aeebe1-6796-4fb1-b8da-fb46bc52dd9c/22604117436-250.jpg","song":"Valedor","track_id":null,"recording_id":"d040a0df-5cb6-484f-a391-6ebe636bac52","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":"“Valedor” sits in the world Belafonte Sensacional built on Gazapo (2014): street-level storytelling, Mexico City slang, and a band arrangement that keeps the energy restless even when the groove feels deceptively relaxed. The song’s title is a direct address—friendly, conspiratorial—so the vocal delivery reads like a conversation happening at close range. Lyrically, it leans on everyday details and camaraderie to sketch a scene rather than preach a message, and that’s part of its impact: the humor and warmth carry an undertow of tension. Musically, it rides a folk-rock backbone, but the phrasing and rhythmic push give it a punk-adjacent urgency. It’s the kind of track where the hook is not just melody; it’s the attitude—the way a chorus can feel like a shared code between strangers. If you want an entry point into Gazapo, this is one of the clearest examples of how the band turns local texture into something universal.\u2028\n\nListen: https://holabelafonte.bandcamp.com/album/gazapo","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3606486,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3606486/?format=json","airdate":"2026-01-19T19:48:20-08:00","show":65702,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65702/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","comment":"","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"airbreak"},{"id":3606485,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3606485/?format=json","airdate":"2026-01-19T19:43:40-08:00","show":65702,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65702/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"El lado oscuro","track_id":null,"recording_id":"e3a37c35-531b-494f-b77d-7b8c887f45d8","artist":"Jarabe de Palo","artist_ids":["38b511a2-76fa-4a1e-9b7a-e2a6efa6399b"],"album":"La flaca","release_id":null,"release_group_id":"e32cf2fb-a788-399e-97d3-7cdf0a889350","labels":["Parlophone"],"label_ids":["df7d1c7f-ef95-425f-8eef-445b3d7bcbd9"],"release_date":"1996-01-01","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“El lado oscuro” is one of Jarabe De Palo’s defining songs because it frames love as both tenderness and fate—an acceptance of contradiction rather than a polished fantasy. Musically, it blends pop-rock craft with rhythmic ease: guitars and percussion move with a natural swing, leaving space for the vocal to carry the emotional weight. The lyric voice is direct and memorable, built on a clear binary (“good side” versus “dark side”) that’s less about moral judgment and more about self-identification—owning the scars, the intensity, and the fearlessness that can come with loving fully. The hook lands because it’s plainspoken and theatrical at the same time; it feels like a confession delivered with pride. Production-wise, the track is clean, radio-ready, and melodically generous, but it still preserves the grain of a lived-in performance—something human rather than sterile. It also fits within the broader character of the era: songs that could fill a room without losing lyrical intimacy. For sequencing, it works as a mid-tempo anchor—emotional, recognizable, and strong enough to reset attention before you move into more frantic material.\u2028\n\nListen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jW89DwNY3Os","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3606484,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3606484/?format=json","airdate":"2026-01-19T19:41:10-08:00","show":65702,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65702/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"Come On (Ven Aqui)","track_id":null,"recording_id":"3ab73b40-174d-41ff-b01e-f6ec19bf448d","artist":"Los Saicos","artist_ids":["096e3e94-0faa-41a0-a94e-da54eeac7466"],"album":"Come On","release_id":null,"release_group_id":"fbb63ddb-b586-4afb-ab98-75f0baf2c6e8","labels":[],"label_ids":[],"release_date":"1965-01-01","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“Come On (Ven Aquí)” is a foundational piece of Los Saicos’ legend: mid-’60s garage rock with the kind of speed and bite that later generations would associate with punk. The track moves with a stripped-down urgency—sharp guitar stabs, a driving beat, and vocals that don’t aim for smoothness so much as immediacy. What makes it historically striking is how modern the attitude feels: it’s concise, aggressive in its attack, and built around the thrill of direct address. Even with its simple structure, the song has a kinetic snap—each section arrives quickly, delivers the point, and gets out, which is part of why it still sounds alive rather than archival. There’s also a playful tension in the bilingual framing: “Come On” and “Ven Aquí” pull the same impulse into different registers, turning pursuit into command. For listeners who know “Demolición,” this track shows another side of the same engine—still raw, still fast, but aimed at attraction rather than chaos. In a playlist, it’s a perfect historical pivot between early garage and later punk.\u2028\n\nListen: https://open.spotify.com/intl-es/track/0yatkm9lc2I8PjUNpwKa0U","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3606483,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3606483/?format=json","airdate":"2026-01-19T19:39:20-08:00","show":65702,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65702/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"Camón","track_id":null,"recording_id":null,"artist":"Camellos","artist_ids":["18e892fd-248a-4bec-a616-f58b1b36d0dd"],"album":"Camón","release_id":null,"release_group_id":null,"labels":[],"label_ids":[],"release_date":"2025-12-04","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“Camón” is short, sharp, and intentionally unsentimental—built like a burst of adrenaline meant to kick off a new cycle rather than luxuriate in nostalgia. Camellos specialize in punk-leaning rock with a streetwise sense of humor, and this track uses that identity as fuel: tight guitars, clipped phrasing, and a tempo that feels like it’s sprinting past reflection. The effect is visceral, like a band walking onstage and choosing impact over introduction. Even in its brevity, the song suggests a backward glance—an anniversary mood or a “we’ve been here a minute” stance—but it refuses to soften into celebration. Instead, it reads as movement: momentum, grit, and a willingness to stay abrasive when the world expects maturity to mean restraint. The band’s writing style often pairs everyday realism with punchline timing, and “Camón” keeps that edge by staying lean and decisive. It’s especially useful for radio programming or DJ transitions because it’s a quick hit that spikes energy and clears the palette. If you’re curating a set, it functions like a starter pistol.\u2028\n\nListen: https://open.spotify.com/track/42jCIBQwQ77Oa4zSts4Ukn","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3606482,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3606482/?format=json","airdate":"2026-01-19T19:36:20-08:00","show":65702,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65702/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"The Feel","track_id":null,"recording_id":"a78730c8-2988-416a-b4bd-27bc7fcecdf4","artist":"Las Robertas","artist_ids":["7252934b-74b2-4db9-aff5-e01141217972"],"album":"The Feel","release_id":null,"release_group_id":"e39dfe47-0baa-4f27-9ec0-8d0b510c7083","labels":[],"label_ids":[],"release_date":"2015-04-15","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“The Feel” is a compact statement of Las Robertas’ surf-psych and indie-rock DNA: bright guitar lines, a steady rhythmic roll, and a melodic confidence that feels sunlit even when the sentiment carries restlessness. The song’s central idea is self-directed freedom—less “someone will give it to you,” more “you have to claim it.” That theme is reinforced by the track’s forward glide: it doesn’t linger in doubt, it keeps moving, like a late-night drive with the windows down and the volume up. The band’s strength here is balance: the guitars can shimmer and bite, the groove stays danceable, and the vocals carry warmth without losing urgency. It’s the kind of track that reads equally well as a festival-stage singalong or a headphone track where the details (tone, reverb, rhythmic accents) matter. Historically, it sits in a period where the band’s sound was sharpening into a recognizable signature—garage roots with a psychedelic bloom, but arranged with pop instinct. If you’re assembling a playlist that moves between Latin American psych, garage, and indie, “The Feel” is a natural connector because it’s immediately catchy and stylistically fluent.\u2028\n\nListen: https://lasrobertas.bandcamp.com/track/the-feel","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"},{"id":3606481,"uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/plays/3606481/?format=json","airdate":"2026-01-19T19:31:30-08:00","show":65702,"show_uri":"https://api.kexp.org/v2/shows/65702/?format=json","image_uri":"","thumbnail_uri":"","song":"Bailemos en la hoguera","track_id":null,"recording_id":null,"artist":"Stereo Animal","artist_ids":[],"album":"Bailemos en la hoguera","release_id":null,"release_group_id":null,"labels":[],"label_ids":[],"release_date":"2026-01-05","rotation_status":null,"is_local":false,"is_request":false,"is_live":false,"comment":"“Bailemos en la hoguera” plays like a modern rock single designed for forward motion: a bold title, a direct pulse, and an arrangement that keeps climbing toward a cathartic peak. The track’s main strength is its sense of push—guitars that alternate between tight, rhythmic insistence and wider, more melodic release, with drums that keep the center of gravity steady. The mood suggests communal intensity: dancing not as escapism, but as a way to burn through anxiety, frustration, and everything you can’t say plainly. Even without overcomplicating the structure, the song creates dynamics through texture: moments that feel packed and urgent, followed by space that makes the next hit feel larger. The vocal phrasing sits in that crucial rock sweet spot—clear enough to anchor the narrative, but delivered with grit so the emotion feels lived-in rather than theatrical. It’s the kind of single that fits well between heavier tracks because it can carry energy without relying on pure aggression; it’s more about ignition than explosion. If you’re programming a setlist, it works as a “raise the room temperature” moment.\u2028\n\nListen: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=OLAK5uy_nJ-Suys3g7MfVuSMJ_1uJmoirBsyC86Fo","location":1,"location_name":"Default","play_type":"trackplay"}]}