The Singles Jukebox

It’s pronounced CHA-VER-CHES.

[Video][Website]
[6.00]

Alfred Soto: This Mexican act’s acoustic/electronic synthesis builds to a variant on La Bouche’s indelible “Tonight is the night is the night for love” hook. Now that’s deep diving.
[6]

Jonathan Bogart: Twenty years on from their initial burst of stardom as the playful, awkwardly emotional smartasses of Mexican rock, they’ve long since assimilated the professionalism that has overtaken indie rock the world over, and the rather thin disco stomp here is just as nostalgic than yet another run through of “La Ingrata” would be. Utterly unnecessary, unconvincingly beguiling, and yet — I’ll never be able to really dislike the band that made Cuatro Caminos.
[6]

Tim de Reuse: Café Tacvba here reach for something glittery and distant and wistful. While the raw magnitude of their enthusiasm is impressive (and certainly more entertaining than the other extreme) it’s all too much — there’s little room for expressivity or subtlety under such heavy-handed glee. There’s twinkling guitar arpeggios, sunny synth chords, an every-beat-is-the-downbeat chorus, fluffy oversaturated production — all far too bright, all competing for the same real estate.
[5]

Juana Giaimo: Quite surprisingly, I’m not bothered by Rubén Albarran’s voice this time. Instead, his raspy voice provides a different texture to an otherwise too calm and spaced track. However, I’m not entirely pleased by the high-pitched vocals of the chorus. 
[6]

Peter Ryan: At first blush a breezy flirtation with stompy dance-pop, but there’s a chill in the air — Albarrán’s voice is sapped of its usual playful vitality, its nooks and crannies sandblasted smooth, lending credence to the ensuing chronicle of a day in the shadow of crushing loss. So yes, a stab at some sort of relevance, but a deeply-felt one, with none of the awkward concessions that you might expect.
[8]

Jessica Doyle: I listened to this on tinny tablet speakers, and that was a mistake; it would work better as a song to stand in the middle of, with those repeated descents swirling around from eight directions at once. In the absence of that immersion, “Un Par de Lugares” seems to lose momentum every time the drums give way to the verses.
[5]

Will Adams: Note to self: try to get to the beach sometime this week.
[6]