Nu metal has always been a genre that survives and thrives on drama. So much of our canon draws from the pressure cooker of disintegrating relationships, the specific theater of knowing it’s over and pushing harder and harder until the curtain finally falls–we hear the catharsis of “Get the fuck out / stay the fuck out,” but we rarely get a window into the lonely aftermath where the speaker gets what they wanted and starts to wrestle with the silence of everything they’ve lost in the process.
Enter Ladrones. The Guadalajara-based nu/djent/corrido sommeliers have been on a tear this year, dropping their brilliant sophomore album Mexican Pesado back in May and taking their talents on a Latin American tour before announcing a US tour with simpatico Indian folk metallers Bloodywood next spring. But this Agendy isn’t going to them for any of that–Ladrones is claiming this title with “Nunca Quise Irme,” a collab with up-and-coming norteño titan Yng Naz.
Musically, the song is incredible, with the kind of seamless fusion of regional Mexican guitar with djent and metalcore riffing we’ve come to expect from guitar mastermind José Macario, with Yng Naz effortlessly slipping into the mix with some truly evocative acoustic leads. But where the song really shines is the lyrics–Ladrones vocalists Zxmyr and Cirujano Resendez trade verses with Naz, picking apart the unique emotional turmoil of missing someone you know is gone for good, before returning, again and again, to a monster of a chorus:
I’ll keep hoping that you find in me /
Something that helps you see the dream I have for you /
I can’t stop confusing myself /
You left me to roam free but the problem is /
I never wanted to leave
It’s the way these three lyricists condense so much emotional turmoil, regret, and abortive attempts at acceptance into a single chorus that propels “Nunca Quise Irme” straight to the top shelf. It’s by far the best breakup song in a catalog full of them, and the perfect introduction to one of the most exciting artists to break through this year.
