Del tope al fondo

The first time I heard Del tope al fondo, I got hooked on that bassline that rises and falls like a wave, but not just any wave: one that carries lyrics about the journey, about what’s left behind and what’s carried along. It’s not a song that sounds like classic island reggae, but more organic, as if the band had taken the rhythm of the street and filtered it through their own experiences. The bass, the one that seems to breathe in sync with the drums, isn’t just an accompaniment: it sets the pace of a story that moves forward without haste but without pause, with that mix of melancholy and determination that often defines La Dulzura.

The album came out in 2010, but many of its songs, including this one, had been circulating for years. Rodríguez and his band polished them during a tour that began in 2007, playing live until the lyrics and arrangements felt like their own. Before officially releasing it, the band shared tracks online, like La Compl, and when La Dulzura finally arrived, it did so under their own label, La Mafafa, because record labels didn’t offer what they were looking for. The result was an album that sounds like freedom, both musically and creatively. Del tope al fondo lasts five minutes and six seconds—just enough time to let yourself be carried away by that current that starts gently and ends up sweeping everything in its path.