Tomar el fresco

The opening riff of Tomar el fresco sounds like a stroll through the neighborhood where Café Tacvba grew up. It’s not a song that grabs you by the throat from the start, but rather with a melody that lingers like the wind between the buildings of Naucalpan, right where the Toreo and the Metro station used to be. The drums don’t sound processed or electronic: they’re real, with beats that you can feel in your chest, as if the rhythm were being set by someone walking beside you. Rubén Albarrán’s voice —here under the name of Élfego Buendía— flows without hurry, as if he were whispering a secret while catching his breath on the rooftop of an old building. The bass and guitar intertwine in a loop that doesn’t seek resolution, only existence, like the cool night breeze in that part of Mexico City.

Recorded in 2003, this track is part of Cuatro Caminos, an album that marked a turning point in the band’s sound. The producers —Dave Fridmann, Aníbal Kerpel, Gustavo Santaolalla, and Andrew Weiss— worked with borrowed equipment and less-than-ideal conditions, yet they still managed to capture something raw. The song lasts less than three minutes, but in that time it conveys the feeling of standing on any corner in Naucalpan, listening to the city’s murmur without any rush to go anywhere.