Dillom's album La nueva violencia mocks the era it belongs to, Indie Hoy says

Indie Hoy has run its review of La nueva violencia, the 2026 album by the Argentine rapper Dillom, and its critic Juampa Barbero reads the record as a joke told at the expense of an era that turns almost anything into a spectacle. The album came out on the label Bohemian Groove.

Barbero's argument is that the discomfort comes from where the rapper is standing. He has the fame, knows the privileges it brings, enjoys some of the excess and feels the wear of it, so the writing never looks at the mess from outside. The review treats that tension as the thing to understand about the album.

The sound, to the reviewer's ear, is frenetic, physical and oddly danceable: saturated guitars, aggressive synths, distorted bass and processed vocals crashing into one another. He picks out the title track, 'Vedette', 'Papá se volvió loco' and 'Superdiversión' as the run where exhaustion gets converted into euphoria.

The review traces the route through Post mortem in 2021, which let trap take on guitars, punk and a sensibility borrowed from horror films, and Por cesárea in 2024, whose production served a dark and cinematic story. On this record Barbero hears rock, post-punk, new wave and electronics used as raw material rather than as labels to respect.

Humour is held up as the sharpest tool on the album. 'Gente común' goes at a scene obsessed with belonging, 'Fashion' aims at fashionable people, 'Nadie coge gratis' drags the transactions of a night out into relationships, and 'Palermo Hollywood' repeats one line until it becomes impossible to ignore. Barbero notes that the rapper knows those codes because he moves through the same rooms and can end up the target of his own jokes.

The making of it is the part with hard detail. Fermín Ugarte produced, working with Bernardo Ferrón, Coghlan, Franco Dolzani and Samuel Shea, and Santiago de Simone mixed. The group shut themselves inside an 1860 mansion converted into a studio for fifteen days, deleted their social accounts, put the phones away and worked up to twelve hours a day, in suits. Room echoes, accidents, laughs, coughs and takes meant to be provisional stayed in the final versions.

The guest list would have been a campaign anywhere else. Juliana Gattas and Ale Sergi of Miranda! sing on 'Gente común'; Sebastian Murphy of Viagra Boys appears on 'Papá se volvió loco' and 'Fashion'; Juana Aguirre is on 'Cocodrilo' with St. Vincent, who also turns up on 'Palermo Hollywood'; Declan Mehrtens of Amyl and the Sniffers reaches 'Amigos'; and Juana Rozas, Babeblade and Terra sing backing. Every one of those names was stripped off the tracklist.

Andrés Capasso designed the sleeve: a toy house holding a scene where the innocence has already been spoiled, with plastic bodies and a small figure watching from a window who is trapped inside the model himself. Late on, the reviewer hears the irony give way in 'Souvenir' and 'Maniquí', and in 'Elvis interludio', which uses audio of the rapper's father after watching a video of him perform.

Barbero's closing point is about risk. The Vélez show last year confirmed a move from anomaly to centre of Argentine music, and the danger that comes with that is becoming predictable, which this record answers by changing the sound and taking the character apart. The album is filed here under hip-hop and dated on the release calendar; nearby, Six Sex released her debut album Ultra and Netflix set a Fito Páez documentary for September 3.

La nueva violencia is out on streaming platforms, Spotify and Tidal among them, with none of those guest names printed anywhere on it.