Episode 04
Photo from Mexico City, Mexico. April 2026.
Gathered across Mexico City — in restaurants, record shops, taxis, and on the street at night. Cumbia, bolero, and soul. Every selection, a memento.
Tracklist:
Wako - Diles que no me maten
Un Tabaco para Elegua - Orquesta Akokán
Cumbia Especial - Ondatrópica
El Paso Del Tiempo (Versión Remezclada) - Silueta Pálida
Campanitas de Cristal - Toña La Negra
Porque te Vas - Jeanette
Mi Oración - Juan Gabriel
Casi un Hechízo - Jerry Rivera
Cumbia Dark (Cover of The Cure’s Love Song) - Kumbia Queers
Ferrocarril (Sonidero Edit) - Orihuela M.S.S.
Se, Soy - Duda Mata
Orizaba 42 - Adiós Cometa
Rosal - Rosal
Guayaquil City - Mano Negra
Que Te Vaya Bonito - Chavela Vargas
Lágrimas y Lluvia - Rocio Durcal y Juan Gabriel
Mas Amor - Eydie Gorme y Trio Los Panchos“We flew into JFK and everything was grey.”
That’s been my opening line to everyone who’s asked about the trip. And it’s not just New York — it’s a largely Western American problem. The walls are grey, the floors are grey, everything is grey. They’re literally building a Sephora on St. Marks right now.
Mexico was not grey.
The short film I shot on this trip — a companion piece to Episode 04 — is gone. Chemical contamination by one of the technicians. I had quipped to the woman at the front desk: “There’s footage of a volcano eruption on here. I can’t wait to see it.” A package from Negativeland — my partner jokes at the irony of their name — arrived this week. An empty reel. I can’t think about it without crying. So I gave myself the month off.
On the descent from that very volcano, we got into a bad car accident and nearly went over the edge. Two people in our van had head injuries. The tires dug into the muddy grass right at the edge. It started to rain shortly after — everything smelling of gasoline, wet grass, and dirt.
I called my dad in tears. He held space and ended the call with: Who else can say they got in a car accident on a volcano in Mexico on their 30th birthday? Go out, have a nice dinner, get some margaritas... Happy birthday, bud. I love you. I’m glad you’re safe.
Three hours later we boarded the replacement ride back to the city — the six of us, strangers at the start of the week. Ryan opens the doors and goes, 这辆车连个安全带都没有. This car doesn’t even have seat belts.Collective laughter.
Then came a hailstorm that definitely hadn’t been on any radar, which turned into a torrential downpour. Racing through the streets of Condesa into Roma Norte and up the five-floor walk-up — not one dry thread between us.
A fitting farewell to my twenties.
Episode 04 leans into the chaos, and the community that gets us through it. Every song was something I heard in a restaurant, café, bar, taxi, record shop, on the street at night — or something someone put me on to while I was there. A gentleman in Coyoacán hand-picked selections from his vinyl collection for me to bring home: Toña La Negra, Eydie Gormé, Rocío Dúrcal y Juan Gabriel — all featured here. Diles Que No Me Maten’s Wako opens the episode — found at a record shop I stumbled into after a post-accident massage. And somewhere in the middle, a cumbia cover of The Cure’s “Love Song” by the Kumbia Queers.
Every selection is a memento. Thank you for being patient with me.
— Luke A. Wright, May 2026