Gallito de caramelo

The story behind

Candy rooster sounds like a street party in an acoustic version. It's not a waltz or a bolero, but it carries that playful cadence that makes you move your shoulders without realizing it. The guitar strums with a rhythm that seems to come from a Caribbean market: notes that leap like sparks and a melody that gets tangled in your head. There's something in that mix of rock with a local accent that makes it sound different from everything else of its time. They recorded it in 2004, just when Carlos Vives had been reinventing Colombian sound for years. The track lasts three and a half minutes, enough time for the main riff —the one that repeats twice per verse— to fully sink in. There are no exaggerated effects: just the voice, the guitar, and that air of improvisation that makes it sound more alive than many polished productions. El Rock de Mi Pueblo was released in late August of that year, but this particular song seems to have been born from a spontaneous rehearsal, as if someone had left the door open and the rhythm slipped in on its own.