Arca Monster

Arca Monster is one of those songs that doesn’t warn you and grabs you from the first chord. It’s not a track that starts softly to build momentum: it kicks off with a sharp hit, as if the studio’s air conditioning had suddenly broken down, and there it stays with that riff that won’t let go. It’s not a perfect loop; it has an imbalance that makes it move as if it’s breathing, and that’s precisely what gives it that feeling that it’s about to fall apart but never quite does. Indio Solari’s voice enters almost like a whisper over that foundation, but it’s not just any whisper: it’s the kind that forces you to lean in closer to the speaker to catch every detail, as if he’s telling you something he doesn’t want the next room to hear.

They recorded it at a time when Solari was already carrying the shadow of Patricio Rey y sus Redonditos de Ricota, but without them. In the credits, he appears as El Fisgón Ciego, a name that sounds like both a mask and a truth. That album, Pajaritos, bravos muchachitos, came out in 2014, and Arca Monster is the final track, the one that closes with guests who aren’t just anyone: Semilla Bucciarelli, Sergio Dawi, and Walter Sidotti, the same ones who played in the old days. It’s not just any reunion: it’s people who hadn’t shared a stage since the band split up. The song lasts 3:34, just long enough for that riff not to drag but not so long that it overstays its welcome. And once it was recorded, it was nominated for the Premios Gardel in the best rock album category. The first time they played it live was at the Hipódromo, where the sound bounces differently and the song sounds as if it had always been there, as if the air conditioning had never been fixed.