St. Vincent’s Todos Nacen Gritando is a record about violence, decay and the refusal to stop fighting back. It is also, at times, a record about the distance between a band’s intentions and the songs that land. The album runs ten tracks and 41 minutes, and it wants to be a statement — a loud, anxious, politically engaged statement — but the statement keeps getting interrupted by songs that feel less like arguments and more like sketches.
The title track, “Todos Nacen Gritando,” opens the record with a question: are we born screaming because we know what’s coming, or because we can’t help ourselves? It’s a strong thesis, and the song delivers on it. The music is tense, angular and layered, with a chorus that builds to a full-band roar. It sets a standard the rest of the record spends the next hour chasing.
El Infierno Está Cerca
“El Infierno Está Cerca” follows with a slower, more atmospheric build. The track leans on texture over melody, and it works best when it lets the tension sit rather than forcing a payoff. It’s a good opener for the record’s darker streak, but it doesn’t quite match the urgency of the title track.
“Salvaje” picks the pace back up. It’s a tight, driving song with a sharp guitar riff and a vocal delivery that sounds genuinely pissed off. This is the St. Vincent you expect — the band that knows how to make anger sound precise and controlled. It’s one of the record’s better moments, and it shows what the album could have been if more of it held this shape.
Hombre Roto Through El Mero Cero
“Hombre Roto” is a shorter, more fragmented piece. It feels like a fragment of a larger idea, a sketch rather than a finished thought. The lyrics are about damage and self-destruction, but the song itself doesn’t fully commit to either. It’s listenable, but it doesn’t leave much of an impression.
“Pulga” is a step up. The track has a driving rhythm and a chorus that sticks, and it’s one of the more immediately accessible moments on the record. It’s not a reinvention, but it’s a solid pop-rock cut with a political edge that doesn’t oversell itself.
“El Mero Cero” closes the first half of the album. It’s a brief, punchy track that leans on repetition and a simple hook. It’s effective in short bursts, but it doesn’t extend its argument beyond the two minutes it gets. It’s a decent palate cleanser, but it doesn’t demand much attention.
Tiempos Violentos Through La Fruta Mas Dulce
“Tiempos Violentos” is where the record starts to lose focus. The song is built around a spoken-word passage that feels more like a rant than a lyric, and the music underneath it doesn’t quite know what to do with the energy. It’s not a bad song, but it’s the clearest sign that the band is reaching for something bigger than the material supports.
“Se Fue La Luz” is a standout. It’s the longest track on the album, and it earns its runtime with a slow-building structure that pays off in its final stretch. The song is about loss and the absence of light, and it finds a genuine emotional core in the record’s otherwise anxious tone. It’s the moment where the album stops trying to be angry and starts trying to be honest.
“La Fruta Mas Dulce” is a lighter, more melodic detour. It’s a pop-leaning track with a catchy hook and a brighter arrangement, and it provides some relief after the heavier middle section. It’s not essential, but it’s pleasant.
Tantos Planetas And The Title Track
“Tantos Planetas” is a return to the album’s darker themes. It’s a moody, atmospheric piece that leans on space-like synths and a distant vocal. It’s ambitious, but it’s also the most opaque track on the record — the lyrics and the intent are both hard to pin down.
The title track closes the album. It’s a sprawling, six-and-a-half-minute epic that restates the thesis of the record in its fullest form. The song builds from a quiet, almost fragile beginning to a loud, aggressive finale, and it’s the clearest statement of everything the album is trying to say. It’s the strongest track here, and it justifies the entire record.
What Works, What Doesn’t
The album’s strengths are its title track and “Se Fue La Luz.” Those two songs are the reason this record is worth hearing, and they’re both better than anything else St. Vincent has released in recent years. They’re focused, emotionally direct and musically adventurous in the way the band’s best work always is.
The weaknesses are the middle tracks. “Hombre Roto,” “Pulga,” “Tiempos Violentos” and “Tantos Planetas” are all competent, but they’re also the least distinctive songs on the record. They don’t add much beyond the ideas the stronger tracks have already established, and they drag the pacing down.
The record’s problem is ambition mismatch. St. Vincent is clearly trying to make a statement about the world right now, and the title track proves they can make that statement with force and clarity. But the rest of the album isn’t consistently up to the task. Some tracks are too short to develop their ideas, others are too long and repetitive, and a few are simply unclear about what they’re trying to say.
Key facts
– Artist: St. Vincent
– Album: Todos Nacen Gritando
– Tracks: 10
– Total runtime: 41 minutes
The Verdict
Todos Nacen Gritando is a mixed bag, but it’s a mixed bag with a clear high point. The title track and “Se Fue La Luz” are excellent, and they elevate an album that struggles to maintain its momentum elsewhere. The record is at its best when it commits to a single idea and stays there, and it’s at its worst when it tries to be too many things at once.
It’s not a great album, but it’s a promising one. It shows a band still capable of making sharp, emotionally direct rock music, even if the execution doesn’t always match the ambition. The highs are high, and the lows aren’t low enough to sink the whole project. It’s a record worth hearing for the moments that work, and worth skipping through for the ones that don’t.
- El Infierno Está Cerca4:09
- Salvaje3:57
- Hombre Roto3:22
- Pulga3:47
- El Mero Cero2:59
- Tiempos Violentos3:57
- Se Fue La Luz4:38
- La Fruta Mas Dulce3:55
- Tantos Planetas3:35
- Todos Nacen Gritando6:55
