I have already paid, Colonel. I have paid many times over. They took everything from me. They punished me in so many ways. I have spent some forty years in hiding like a leper, always with the nagging feeling that at any moment they might kill me. I do not deserve to die like this, Colonel. Let the Lord forgive me, at least. Don’t kill me! Tell them not to kill me!

…and with that final sentence in Juan Rulfo’s eponymous short story, Diles que no me maten got their band name. I’ve followed the now-iconic CDMX-based band for a couple of years, and witnessing their evolution has been fascinating. Similar to Rulfo’s prose, their lyrics are closer to poems, composed of short phrases and repeating ideas that give a strong conceptual identity to their songs. The combination of these dry, often ruthless, lyrics with their electronic Post-Punk and Ambient-influenced instrumentals made them one of the most memorable acts in the Latin-American scene. Since their debut in 2020, this odd combination of Molchat Doma and Patti Smith came here to stay.

Three years after their last album, DQNMM comes back to delight us with a new project: Escrito en agua. Steering away from the direction that Obrigaggi seemed to be taking them in —as a sort of spiritual sequel of La Vida De Alguien Más— they offer us one of their jazziest and most instrumentally complex works yet.

This shift is announced through the first track, “Las noches que dormimos en sillas”: a fully instrumental song where a saxophone takes the spotlight, slow and intense. Reminiscent of Brian Eno’s work with Bowie or early Krautrock, this funerary symphony marches with the relentless beat of an ending more than an opening. The title (translated: The nights we slept on chairs) inevitably reminds me of the —apparently universally Latin-American— childhood experience of getting a couple of chairs together at a family party and sleeping on top the noise going on around you.

The second track, “Hiriku”, clashes with the atmosphere previously being built through their already well-known electronic beats. It is a much more traditional DQNMM song, where they play within the formulas they have established. It is a very vibey track, and their lyrics induce thought through repetition, like they are known to do. This song was also released as a single previous to the album, so it is safe to assume it was the “commercial” option for the fans that were looking for new material that resembled what came before. Still, a fantastic track that also serves as a statement of how good they’ve gotten at their own sound.

“Viene el viento” is another unique track, and maybe the least DQNMM song in their catalogue. An acoustic guitar and a soft voice take over this poetic ballad, revealing a new layer of the band’s sensibilities. It’s a track that brings together Folk and Proto-Punk, providing the album of new life and horizons to explore. When the electronic part finally kicks in, the yin-yang dynamic that it has with the acoustic sounds is refreshing and exciting.

“No Me” subverts expectations bringing the best of both worlds together. They carry on with their symphonic experimentation —with the return of the saxophone from the first track— bringing their sound to something closer to Post-Rock. It’s slow and heavy, with lyrics that are not sung, but stated. Sentence after sentence, the escalation of meaning in this poem paired with the heartbreaking tension built by these instrumentals create a deeply emotional experience. Even though the lyrics are pretty simple, the musical complexity of the delivery is unmatched.

Finally, the album closes with “Tunuwame”, my favorite track. Like something straight out of The Velvet Underground’s catalogue, this track implements 60’s chord progressions that follow DQNMM’s tendency to repetition and build-up. It’s a loud, layered trip where noises fight and enhance each other like few songs of theirs have done before. Comparable to previous classics like “Outro”, this 7-minute song is all about restraint and expectation. The last minute brings in a harmonica that makes the 60’s influence more apparent and wraps up the song as the ultimate evolution of the band’s sound – a true masterpiece.

It was hard to restrain myself and only talk about some of the tracks, since I think they are all carefully crafted and worth noting. Still, I chose to focus on the more experimental and unique ones that seem to be a step forward for the band, while the rest of the songs could’ve easily been included in any other of their projects. Escrito en agua is about evolution and transformation. Diles que no me maten has already achieved certain status, and gained some following. Once a band manages to establish themselves to a degree, it’s time to evolve, and it seems like that’s what they are attempting. I hope these insanely talented musicians keep pushing, since they have nothing left to prove, and they can now create freely.

If you’d like to stream the album or check out more work by Diles que no me maten, Escrito en agua is now available on Apple Music and Spotify.