Los Visionarios

An album that refuses to sit still — poetic, ironic, oddly tender.
It murmurs like an old diary left in a drawer, then bursts into strange little marches no one asked for, but everyone somehow needed.

Acoustic textures, surreal tales, and sonic detours form the basis of a work where nothing is sacred — except the joy of surprising you.
At times, it feels like overhearing a conversation between a radio host, a philosopher, and a street musician trapped inside a dusty cassette.

As one listener put it:

“It’s a peculiar ritual — I didn’t understand everything, but I didn’t want to stop listening either.”

This isn’t just music; it’s a question in disguise.
And somehow, also an answer.