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El Derroto Del Diablo
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rock en espanol
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rock en espanol, pop, latin pop, latin rock, lyrics, los angeles rock
Revoluxion is: Guille Baumange - principle songwriter, vocals, guitar, keyboard Freddie Iniguez - Bass Pedro Robleto - Drums Fabian Cheng - Lead Guitar Favorite sons of the Los Angeles Spanish rock / rock en espanol scene REVOLUXION has headlined numerous stages throughout the Los Angeles and San Francisco area. Their signature songs, ANIMAL, EL DERROTO, and MADRE receive repeated airplay in spanish language music stations and have been featured in top 10 radio lists throughout Chicago, New York, Denver, and Latin America.
Song Info
Genre
Latin • Pop/Balada
Charts
Peak #25
Peak in subgenre #3
Author
Guille Baumange
Rights
Guille Baumange
Uploaded
January 30, 2006
Track Files
MP3
MP3 2.7 MB • 128 kbps • 2:54
Story behind the song
Subtitled “Mephistopheles admits defeat” this lurid tale finds the dark lord himself taking lead on the vocal. Not the classic omnipotent figure you recall from your nightmares; horned, hooved, and hideous – accoutered with fiery, cascading wings as he menacingly perches from his blacked throne while his minions screechingly sing his praises. No, in this tale we find him as an old man: grey, smelly, and rapidly wasting away. His throne? Nothing but a creaky old rocking chair. His audience? You. “Listen to my tale”, he beckons. “Pleeeeease…ven, acercate!” he pleads. “Ven, te quiero ver!” It suddenly dawns on you that you’re actually felling sorry for him! He looks so frail, so, pathetic. We continue to listen in…and we’re sorry we did. He spits out his plight, his sordid tale. He grows weaker with every word, yet somehow…he gains more freedom, his chains began to lift off of his gangrenous shoulders – as if he were being absolved by the mere benediction of his exhaust! As he offers his confession it really doesn’t register with you, “La maldad no es personaje, no es un ser! Solo existe en nuestras almas, en nuestro creer!” Is he really saying what you think he is saying? We slowly begin to realize the veracity of what he is telling us, “we created him! We made him! His pale eyes are watery now. Mixing with his bloody snot, he aimlessly swipes at it with his tattered sleeve. His breathing grows heavier. His long white hair now drenched and putrid. He’s checking out you think to yourself. His bony hand now forcefully attempts to clutch at his heart (does he have one?!!!!) He begins to writhe uncontrollably, yet his jaundiced eyes continue to pierce right through you. Reaching out to you. “Please don’t go!...Not yet. But this is way to much for you to bear. By this time you’re racing to the door. Faster than your size 10 Doc’s can carry you! The final blood curdling scream reverberates with the intensity of a billion locomotives. “Todo lo que existe oye mi voz, cabron!, he admonishes you and pleads with you at the same time. “En la tierra y en el espacio…” And then, with his final breath comes the final blessed confession….”solo existe….DIOS!!!!”
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