Album Review: Cuando Bailes Mi Niño – Presiento Eclipse de Luna Como Una Flor y Otras by Saray
Alright, let’s dive into this wild ride of an album. Released in 1999 under the Horus label, Cuando Bailes Mi Niño – Presiento Eclipse de Luna Como Una Flor y Otras is one of those records that feels like it came straight outta Spain's soul—equal parts rumba fire and techno pulse. Saray, whoever you are (and bless you for existing), managed to mash Latin vibes with electronic beats in a way that feels raw, alive, and kinda unforgettable.
First off, can we talk about “Presiento”? This track hits different. It starts with this haunting melody, almost like the moon itself is whispering secrets in your ear. Then BAM! The beat drops, and suddenly you’re not just listening—you’re feeling it. There’s something so hypnotic about how the rhythm builds up, layer after layer, until you’re caught in this trance-like state. I swear, every time I hear it, I get goosebumps. Like, who knew techno could feel THIS emotional? You don’t just listen to “Presiento”; you live through it.
And then there’s “Como Una Flor.” Oh man, this one’s a heartbreaker. It’s softer, more delicate than the rest of the album, but damn if it doesn’t pack a punch. The vocals here are what really stick with me—they sound fragile yet full of longing, like someone trying to hold on to love before it slips away. And the production? Subtle, but perfect. Every little synth note feels intentional, like they knew exactly how to tug at your heartstrings without overdoing it. Honestly, this song makes me wanna stare out a rainy window and think about all my past mistakes. Beautifully painful stuff.
The rest of the tracks ain’t slouches either. “Eclipse de Luna” has this eerie vibe that sticks with you long after the music stops, while “Hoy Me Iré” brings back that fiery energy that makes you wanna move—even if you’ve got two left feet. But honestly, the whole album flows together like a dreamy, chaotic journey through emotions and rhythms. It’s messy in the best possible way, like life itself.
What gets me most about this record is how unapologetically Spanish it feels. Not just because of the language or the rumba influences, but because it carries this sense of passion and urgency that’s hard to fake. Saray wasn’t just making music here—they were pouring their soul into it. And yeah, maybe some parts feel a bit rough around the edges, but isn’t that what makes it real?
So here’s the thing: If you’re looking for polished perfection, this might not be your jam. But if you want something that grabs you by the heart and shakes you till you feel alive again, give this album a spin. Just don’t blame me if you end up dancing alone in your room at 3 AM.
Oh, and one last thought—why don’t more people know about Saray? Seriously, where’s the justice?
