Había una vez...

Once upon a time... is not just another track in the catalog of Indio Solari and Los Fundamentalistas del Aire Acondicionado: it is the gateway to a sound that moves between the dreamlike and the raw, with an air of finality that doesn’t sound like a farewell, but like a reunion. The song appears in the last minutes of Pajaritos, bravos muchachitos, as if the album needed to close with something that isn’t exactly a song, but a whisper that lingers. The track doesn’t follow the classic structure of verses and choruses; instead, it flows like a recited piece over an instrumental base that repeats with subtle variations, as if each loop were a new detail in a conversation that never ends. What stands out most is how Solari’s voice — credited here as El Fisgón Ciego — blends with the winds and guitars in a balance that seems improvised, yet is meticulously calculated to make the listener feel they’re hearing something unplanned.

The album was recorded at a pivotal moment for Solari: after years of discographic silence, he returned to the studio with Los Fundamentalistas to explore sounds that were no longer those of Redonditos de Ricota, but still carried their same essence. The song itself emerged from that search, as if the album needed a closing that wasn’t a punch, but a caress. What’s curious is that by including in the recording Semilla Bucciarelli, Sergio Dawi, and Walter Sidotti — old companions from Patricio Rey y sus Redonditos de Ricota — Solari not only recovered part of his past, but gave the track an emotional weight no other song on the album has. The result was so distinct that it ended up nominated for the Premios Gardel 2014 in the category “Best Rock Artist Album,” as if the jury, too, had felt that Había una vez... was not just a song, but a bridge between two eras.