I lied.  For this Post is NOT about Jujuy, sino about something I didn't mention in the last blog, but have done since going to Cordoba.

Last Sunday I went to a concert.  The act that got top billing at this event was Molotov… a Mexican rap/rock band that you’ll have heard if you’ve ever seen the movie Amores Perros.  They’re fucking good, and it was totally worth waiting through four hours of lesser (Argentine) bands on a cold day to hear them. And Tito, one of the members, was wearing a black leather jacket over a blue hoodie with the hood up.  When I get a leather jacket, I'm gonna do that so I can be like Tito.

Their lyrics are always great, too. Pure poetry. Here, look:

Vamos a hacerte el paro haciendo un disco no muy caro
Venimos decididos a quedarnos con tu varo
Vender miles de albums a los fresas we just wanna
Rayarles sus ropitas y quedarnos con su lana
Encarreraderazos de bajada y sin frenos
Somos los feos y malos somos amigos del bueno

Somos los que en la playa chingan los planes chingones.

Somos los superchilangos entre tú y tus vacaciones, GÜEY!!!!

They rap in English too!!:

Now if you´re hungry for some bologna
and you got some buns that you wanna show me
Open up wide you can eat
this Oscar Mayer that’s really bony
I want to get down into your juju bees
and I think I’m gonna flick ’em
Your titties are smellin’ like chocolate chip ice cream
An’ I think I wanna lick ’em.
I got some hot beef wit that rump roast
but you gotta say please
I'll dig into that thigh everytime
but hold the cottage cheese
And for dessert we can do the works
I’ll put my whip cream in your pie hole
and don’t flinch when you feel a pinch on that
pretty litlle taco.
Cuz I’ve tried to pry
a bearded clam that would not budge
so I went around the corner to keep on trying

…
and I got a little fudge.
Changüich* a, changüich a
Changüich a la chichona
Changüich a, changüich a
Changüich a la chichona!!

Don’t call me gringo you fuckin’ beaner

Stay on your side of that goddamn river

Don’t call me a grinnngo, you beaner.

No me llames beaner, Mr. Puñetero

Te sacaré un susto por racista y culero

No me llames frijolero, pinche gringo puñetero.

I bought two of their CD’s at the concert: ¿Dónde jugarán las niñas? and Dance & Dense Denso.  Haven’t stopped listening to them since.  Everybody should listen to Molotov. 

* “Changüich” is how Mexicans say “sandwich,” you see.  “Chichona” means “stacked young woman”, in this case.