Elena is absolutely certain she will not be calling Mariano, her estranged, cheating boyfriend. She professes this fact repeatedly. But when Vero drops by, still tipsy from the club, discussion of lonely reality has its effect. She breaks down and picks up the phone…

When a strange man insists he is Natalia’s true father, she is oddly sympathetic, “we all know about el proceso.” But do we? The “process” is shorthand for the era of military dictatorships that engulfed the Southern Cone in the mid 70’s. During this era, untold numbers of infants of suspected “subversives” were kidnapped, often taken by police or military members to raise as their own.

In most Spanish dictionaries una yegua is “a mare,” as in “a female horse.” But in Babasónicos’ homeland, Argentina, it can also mean “a sexy thing.” To settle on your own definition of this song’s title, you may just have to watch! (By the way, this is currently one of the hottest bands in Rock en Español.)

The cocktail party effect explains our ability to isolate a solitary voice amidst a sea of yappers, music and crowd noise. Let’s meet our ladies at the disco, where background noise and the effects of actual cocktails upon speech put our own c.p.e. skills to the test. (This one is hard, use the SLOW button!)

Axel Fernando entered the Conservatorio Nacional Superior de Música in Buenos Aires at only eight years old, but dropped out in his early teens, wishing to focus more on academics, and less on music. To the delight of adoring fans throughout the world, he got serious again about music at seventeen, and hasn’t looked back since.

When something is distasteful, it’s common to hear qué asco (how disgusting) This is precisely what Marley proclaims as Sebastián chooses a particularly fea cockroach to munch on. Sebastián didn’t in fact, tragar, or swallow, the roach, and we think Marley let him off easy!

Me siento parte del rock, aunque el disco sea más pop explains Coti Sorokin (known to his fans simply as “Coti”) in an interview with MTV España. His talent is widely respected, having composed songs for the likes of Alejandro Lerner and Diego Torres, and served as producer for Los Enanitos Verdes.

You know, it’s never the drummer or the bassist that gets the big ego, it’s usually el cantante. In this case one is about to ruin Viole’s big opening party by refusing to play on a small stage. Is this Juan’s big chance for rock and roll stardom, or is he better off sticking to his new job as plomo (roadie)?

In the face of blind passion and desire, it’s fairly safe to say that even P.T. Barnum himself was probably a sucker for love. Los Pericos knows first hand the pain that can follow a heart first plunge into the romantic abyss. Sure, they claim to be over it now, but we’re not sure if we altogether believe it…

Babasónicos have never let themselves get pigeon-holed into one style or sound since they formed in the early nineties (much to the consternation of some fans). With "Carismático" we drop into a surreal dreamscape of Dada visuals and equally fantastical lyrics, all encapsulated in a hook-laced pop tune. Dive in!

Enanitos Verdes’ album En Vivo was recorded live in Tijuana, Mexico and Phoenix, Arizona (USA). The song "Tu Carcel" was written and first performed by Marco Antonio Solís, so it’s a real crowd pleaser with the Mexican and Mexican-American audiences.

Fernando Hortal, aka Bahiano, broke away from his band of 17 years, Los Pericos, in 2004 to go it alone. This video shows the rufían delivering milk and a little more. Oyelo, ¡te gustará escucharlo!

Who is this woman that Marciano Cantero met in Denver one winter evening? (Madonna?) It may have been a temporary affair, but the song it inspired has endured, proving to be one of the Enanitos Verdes’ biggest crowd pleasers, as you can see from this concert footage.

¿Quién es Javier García? With his producer (and two-time Academy Award winner) Gustavo Santaolalla, Javier Garcia talks about his roots and influences. Also, we learn about some noted musicians who contributed to the album 13, including the great trumpet player, Arturo Sandoval.

We’ve all heard of the bolero, which has its modern roots in nineteenth century Santiago de Cuba (even though we might not be able to hum one on cue). But what about the cuartetazo? Born in Córdoba, Argentina, and derived from Spanish and Italian dances, the name is derived from the fact that the earliest players were invariably four-piece bands. The rhythm is similar to merengue.