El Blues del Cachondeo (Blues)
Spanish, Madrid, Andalusian Accent, Raw Delta blues featuring a vintage Dobro resonator guitar with bottleneck slide and a Hohner Marine Band harmonica, played over a slow, gritty 6/8 groove. Vocals are delivered with a deep, raspy male voice through a worn Fender Tweed amp, evoking dusty roadside bars and back-porch confessions. The interplay between mournful harmonica wails and metallic slide riffs creates a tense, soulful atmosphere, enriched with room reverb and analog hiss. Irony, heartbreak, and drunken storytelling unfold across sparse, expressive instrumentation.
El Blues del Cachondeo (Blues)
Spanish, Madrid, Andalusian Accent, Raw Delta blues featuring a vintage Dobro resonator guitar with bottleneck slide and a Hohner Marine Band harmonica, played over a slow, gritty 6/8 groove. Vocals are delivered with a deep, raspy male voice through a worn Fender Tweed amp, evoking dusty roadside bars and back-porch confessions. The interplay between mournful harmonica wails and metallic slide riffs creates a tense, soulful atmosphere, enriched with room reverb and analog hiss. Irony, heartbreak, and drunken storytelling unfold across sparse, expressive instrumentation.
Lyrics
THE BLUES WEEK IN "LA FÁBRICA DE LA MÚSICA"
Sorry for my Blue Blues Vision 😋 💙💙💙
https://www.youtube.com/@LaFabricadeMusicaa
ENGLISH LYRICS BELOW
Language: Spanish
Male vocals
Intro
Verse
Se supone que esto tendría que ser algo triste
Desgarrador, que te parte el alma sin pedir permiso
Pero ya me siento tantas veces así... ya ni insisto
No fue el espejo en la mañana lo que me los mostró
Ni encontrar una peli porno en medio de mi salón
Mis oídos están cansados de escuchar el mismo show
Pre-Chorus
Así que aquí estoy, guitarra en mano
En un descampao entre botellas y agujas
Jadeos me acompañan… pero esta vez no son de ella
Chorus
Este es el blúuuuuuus, del caxondeo
De un hombre con cuernos que apuntan al cielo
Soy un toro, no, mejor un ciervo
Cornamenta larga, dolor sincero
Este es el blúuuuuuus, mi bluuuuuus
Y hasta los pájaros se posan en míiiiiiii
Pa' hacer sus cosas sin pedir permiso
Guitar Interlude
Verse
Con mi máhou cinco estrellas bajo la luna llena
Acaricio estas cuerdas, mientras mi alma suena
Pero no lloro por ella… ¡me robaron la cartera!
Me escapé de ellos pero el cuerpo ya tiene una edad
Se llevaron calderilla y una tarjeta en rojo, nada más
El carnet, cosido en mis calzones por lo que me pueda pasar
Pre-Chorus
Ahora suenan sirenas por el aire
Estos chavales, que no saben calmarse
Y entre los matorrales… ¡pum! salen las (p-u-t-a-s)
Final Chorus
Este es el blúuuuuuus, del caxondeo
De un hombre con cuernos que apuntan al cielo
Soy un toro, no, mejor un ciervo
Cornamenta larga, dolor sincero
Este es el blúuuuuuus, mi bluuuuuus
Y hasta los pájaros se posan en míiiiiiii
Pa' hacer sus cosas, como si yo fuera un árbol viejo
Guitar Riff
Este es el blúuuuuuus… mi bluuuuuus…
end
------------------------------------------
Language: Spanish
Male vocals
Intro
Verse
This is supposed to be something sad
Heartbreaking, it breaks your soul without asking permission
But I've felt this way so many times... I don't even insist anymore
It wasn't the mirror in the morning that showed them to me
Or finding a porn movie in the middle of my living room
My ears are tired of listening to the same old show
Pre-Chorus
So here I am, guitar in hand
In a wasteland among bottles and needles
Gasps accompany me... but this time they're not hers
Chorus
This is the blues, of the fun
Of a man with horns that point to the sky
I'm a bull, no, more like a deer
Long antlers, sincere pain
This is the blues, my blues
And even the birds land on meeeeee
To do their things without asking Permission
Guitar Interlude
Verse
With my five-star mahout under the full moon
I caress these strings, while my soul sounds
But I don't cry for it... they stole my wallet!
I escaped from them, but my body is old now
They took a little change and a red card, nothing more
The ID, sewn into my underwear for whatever might happen to me
Pre-Chorus
Now sirens sound in the air
These kids, who don't know how to calm down
And in the bushes... boom! The (h-o-r-d-i-n-gs) come out
Final Chorus
This is the blues, of the fun
Of a man with horns that point to the sky
I'm a bull, no, more like a deer
Long antlers, sincere pain
This is the blues, my blues
And even the birds land on meeeeee
To do their things, as if I were an old tree
Guitar Riff
This is the blues... my blues...
end