The Singles Jukebox

We liked a single from this album last year, and we like another one now…

[Video]
[7.29]

Jessica Doyle: Amiga is one of those albums I still have yet to listen well to all the way through because I keep wanting to hear a particular song over and over again, and the song in this case is “Cordillera.” I can’t get over how meaty the song feels: those crashes of strings, the groans like storm winds, the beat serving as floor for the second half of the chorus, the swell of voices that immediately follows the reference to singers. That it ends on an orchestral swell feels entirely appropriate.
[9]

Alfred Soto: Another song in which Alex Anwandter guards his dreams in a place where it’s always Friday en su corazon. In the video the monsters of Chile’s past add additional torment; for Anwandter, the hunger of memory is best left unsatisfied. As for “Cordillera,” the strummed bits are rather staid; it could use some urgency.
[6]

Juana Giaimo: Although “Cordillera” may not have the instant pop punch of “Siempre es viernes en mi corazón“, it still works as a single for its powerful chorus focused on Alex Anwandter’s vocals which are taken to their limit, joined only by an acoustic guitar — or maybe a charango which would make sense given the lyrics are full of references to Chile, starting from the title, which means “Mountain Range”. But this isn’t a song dedicated to Chile; it’s rather the song where he questions Chile as if it was possible to have a conversation with the abstract idea of a country: “Is this land a place that doesn’t want us and won’t let us talk, think, march, get drunk with dancing?” The idea of being rejected by the land itself reflects the discrimination suffered constantly by the queer community, but Alex Anwandter won’t give in: “This can’t end here because I want to fight.” And, as so many other queer artist have done in the past, his way of fighting is dancing. 
[8]

Cassy Gress: I would like the world to change for many reasons, but one of them is so that Alex Anwandter can stop having to desperately fling himself against walls.
[8]

Thomas Inskeep: “Cordillera” throbs, but politely; I’d rather it went for full-on Moroder-esque disco release, especially because Anwandter’s got the voice for it. 
[6]

Will Adams: The interplay between the synths and guitars — blurring together as they provide the same gorgeous washes — is the most interesting detail here. As someone who is on the more lukewarm end of the Alex Anwandter love, even I can tell this is a half-awake iteration of his more impactful material.
[5]

Ashley John: On my first listen, my favorite part of “Cordillera” was the “la la la la la” at the end of the chorus, which sounds like relief compared to the desperate rhythm of the rest of the song. When I looked up a translation I found that the full line is, roughly, “And the singers sing ‘lalalala/ And nothing more.” My throat tightens up just typing out the line. I think of coming home from the club when the world is still shiny in the night. Laughing and pulling my friends in closer for one last hug and laugh, and then walking the stairs to my room to lay spread out on the floor alone. I’d put on this song to try to stretch the night out a little longer, or at least until the room stops spinning. “Cordillera” is the best type of music-particularly dance music-because it forces all our feelings to coexist even if the pieces don’t fit together nicely. We can dance and sing and be sad all at once. 
[9]