Nuotatori Professionisti

Nuotatori Professionisti doesn’t sound like a song; it sounds like a warning. It’s not something you listen to: it’s something you feel on the back of your neck when someone explains how the world works. The lyrics, written in the first person by Indio Solari, dismantle with sharp irony the idea that power is shared. There are no clear heroes or villains, just a mirror reflecting those who always win: “those are the *golden boys*, the guys who know how to manipulate the system.” The image that sets everything off is raw: executives sipping champagne from their balcones while below, the crowd of Occupy Wall Street passes by—a reminder that, in practice, others pay for the mistakes. There’s no drama, just the realization that the game has been rigged from the start.

The song was born in the context of Luzbelito, the eighth album by Patricio Rey y sus Redonditos de Ricota, recorded across studios in Buenos Aires, São Paulo, and Fort Lauderdale during 1996. It wasn’t a quick process: the album took longer than its predecessors, as if each song needed time to mature its bitterness. Nuotatori lasts 4:42, and in that span, there are no concessions. The lyrics, drawn from conversations Solari had with Marcelo Figueras for the book Recuerdos que mienten un poco, work like an essay disguised as rock: it dissects how media and the economic system feed off each other, and why most people still believe in promises that never come true. The final line—“they seem written yesterday”—is no exaggeration: the song remains relevant decades later, as if time hasn’t passed for those who always win.