Indignan a un zorzal

There is something in the sound of Indignan a un zorzal that is unlike anything else ever recorded by Juana Molina. It is not just the weight of the analog synthesizers, nor the way her voice intertwines with those loops she herself describes as "trances of a few notes." It is that mix of hypnotic repetition and an air of improvisation that seems to slip out of control. The song unfolds as if each cycle of chords were a question, and the silence between them, the answer that never quite arrives. The title, which sounds like a casual observation, actually hides an irony: what could possibly outrage a thrush, that bird that sings regardless of the world? Perhaps it is the idea that even the freest things end up trapped in patterns, in structures that repeat mercilessly.

Juana Molina recorded this track between 2020 and 2025 in her studio in General Pacheco, that place where time seems to stand still among old synthesizer cables and stacks of cassette tapes. It was not a linear process: everything began years earlier, in 2019, when she put together a series of improvised concerts with Odín Schwartz using only analog keyboards and sequencers. Sixty hours of recordings that, years later, became the foundation of Doga, her first album of new songs in eight years. The album, released in November 2025 by the label she co-founded in 2021, is a bridge between her past of obsessive loops and a present where those sounds no longer need excuses to exist. Indignan a un zorzal lasts 5:21, but within those minutes lie decades of listening, of French radio tapes she recorded as a teenager, of melodies that repeat until they become rituals.