When you read the title of Conejito Colvin‘s debut EP, Más música sobre ninis y computadoras, you can’t help but giggle a little. But you can’t anticipate how accurately it represents an entire segment of the Mexican population. As part of electronic trio Los Macuanos, Reuben Torres (the man behind the Conejito moniker) and his bandmates are used to making bold political statements while dancing. But when he becomes a bored and web-obsessed voice that channels the way of life of so many of today’s youth, there’s something ironically political about that message too.
Más música sobre ninis y computadoras comes on the LALALA4e imprint, a netlabel that’s been all about bedroom musical experimentation and all things weird since the good old MySpace days, so it seems like a perfect match. The music on the EP is heavily based on sampling old sources from different decades, and he manages to do so in such a seamless way that it all actually ends up sounding like original compositions right from the start. The mixing is a big contributing factor, especially when it comes to his vocals, as he somehow places himself in all those eras he explores, but manages to stay contemporary.
“He aquí los capítulos en la vida de un hombre/plasmados en las páginas de un diario en toda su cruda realidad,” recites a man on the short intro track, setting the tone of what’s next in a sort of sarcastic way, dropping right into “Mujer, cansas en la vida real.” The hilarious title is a play on the name of the Televisa show Mujer, Casos de la Vida Real. The song discusses the depressingly relatable millenial reality of actually liking people more online than in real life, while backed by a fun Juan García Esquivel-esque track that connects to the work of artists like Francisco y Madero. The pun fun continues on “Dos mujeres, un cretino,” which references the infamous telenovela Dos Mujeres, Un Camino, in which Conejito Colvin takes the cretino’s POV and reflects on what he’s doing with his romantic life, while cheesy synths sparkle in the background.
The theme of the Internet is also central to “Una vida sin updates,” a track previously shared on the LALALA4e and Sin Onda compilation, W H A T E V E R F O R E V E R. A 60s pop sample serves as the foundation to Colvin’s existential self-questioning, which speaks directly to a generation full of anxiety that feeds on social media likes. He adds some Facebook notification bleeps that help convey the message. “Toy Sorry 2,” on the other hand, sounds more like the 80s, and it’s his shot at trying to be a little romantic. But if you think that’s Conejito Colvin’s slacker anthem, just wait until “El rey huevón” pops in. A song where the only lyrics are “qué hueva” feels stupidly striking, especially in contrast with the playful 6/8 instrumentation.
Album closer “No me descartes” is based on some plucked guitar samples, and here he states that being a nini can also be lonely and alienating, and rightfully so. Conejito Colvin plays with some topics that haven’t been widely explored and as banal as many might think they are, they do exist. Throw some spot-on production and a lot of sense of humor into the mix, and you have Más música sobre ninis y computadoras.