Learn Spanish With No te va Gustar with these 11 Song Recommendations (Full Translations Included!)
Feeling upbeat yet strangely ready to implode? That inner tug-of-war fuels Autodestructivo, where the singer admits he’s "a little self-destructive" even while claiming genuine happiness. He stands at a crossroads, debating whether to keep climbing or take tempting shortcuts. The lyrics spill out like an unfiltered diary: he writes without thinking, searches for something he might not even want to find, and begs his partner not to leave just yet.
Amid this chaos, a recurring river dream washes away what once mattered, reminding him that life keeps flowing no matter how tangled his thoughts get. Still, the vision of his loved one becomes his anchor; even when he cannot look at her directly, he feels her presence everywhere. The song captures that electrifying mix of doubt, passion, and hope—proving that sometimes the messiest emotions make for the most gripping rock anthem.
Picture a heart sprinting at full throttle, blazing like a comet yet stuck in one place—this is the energy that "Prendido Fuego" unleashes. No Te Va Gustar paint the portrait of someone consumed by an explosive mix of passion, frustration, and raw adrenaline. Our narrator is literally “on fire,” but with two broken wings, meaning he has the urge to take off yet no clear direction. He tries to dodge his feelings, begs for small talk, and admits he lied, all while the red light of danger flashes and the temperature inside keeps climbing.
In just a few lines the song strings together vivid images—crystalline eyes that could shatter, a foot already in the elevator, a desperate plea for ice to cool the burn. These snapshots reveal a person on the edge: restless, vulnerable, and tempted by self-destructive relief. The repeated question “¿Quién me para hoy?” (“Who can stop me today?”) is both a dare and a cry for help, underscoring the central theme: when emotions ignite, it is easy to accelerate to a hundred, but much harder to steer—or to brake. "Prendido Fuego" is a fiery anthem about feeling too much, too fast, and wondering if anyone—or anything—can put out the flames.
Algo Me Dice is a bittersweet roller-coaster where hope and doubt take turns at the microphone. Over a warm indie-rock groove, the narrator confesses that even when things were fine he secretly waited for drama, and now that the relationship has drifted into silence he feels himself “wilting.” The lyrics juggle contradictions: he craves the other person’s return yet admits he would probably push them away again. Lines like “Supe ser la noche y vos el día” paint the lovers as total opposites, forever out of sync.
The chorus, “Algo me dice que no vendrás,” repeats like a stubborn echo, turning an uneasy hunch into a heartbreaking certainty. Each refrain chips away at the last bit of optimism until the final declaration that they will “never come back.” It is a catchy lament for anyone who has ever wrestled with mixed signals, self-sabotage, and the uneasy truth that some goodbyes are permanent even when the heart refuses to sign off.
Comodín is a spirited anthem of self-respect and fresh starts.
Over a lively backdrop, the singer finally shakes off the role of backup plan and declares "No soy más tu segunda opción" — I’m no longer your second choice. After countless cloudy days and drowned dreams, they swap uncertainty for mental health, slam the door on toxic ties, and pocket the key. The message is clear: choosing yourself is not selfish, it’s liberating.
La Única Voz is a heartfelt tribute to that one person whose love is so genuine it becomes the only voice worth believing. While others still wonder whether love exists or where reason ends, the singer already knows the answer: it lives in the caring gestures, gentle caresses, and silent sacrifices of this special person. No Te Va Gustar turns the song into a celebration of everyday heroism, reminding us that the simplest acts can echo louder than any grand speech.
The lyrics read like a thank-you letter to a protective figure; many listeners hear it as a homage to a mother, grandmother, or anyone who put others first. References to making sure “there was lunch” and “something to dream about” paint scenes of humble tenderness. By repeating that he “only trusts that single voice,” the singer shows a gratitude so deep he believes this person has “earned heaven” by shielding the ones she loves. In the end, the track is a warm reminder that the purest love is quiet, practical, and unforgettable—encouraging us to carry that kindness forward.
Ese Maldito Momento captures the raw sting of regret when you realize, a little too late, what you have lost. The narrator drives along an almost empty road that mirrors the emptiness he feels without his partner. Each line is a confession: he ignored what life had generously given him, threw it away with his own hands, and now wakes up to mornings without her smile. The song paints heartbreak as a self-inflicted wound, where love’s absence feels like being cornered with nowhere to run.
Rather than blaming fate, the singer looks inward, calling himself “barro” (mere mud) and asking for no mercy. He sees his missteps—his clumsy way of living, his failure to keep pace with his lover—as the true villains. “Ese maldito momento” becomes the instant he looked to the side and found her gone, turning a normal day into a lifetime lesson about valuing what you have before it slips away. The result is a bittersweet anthem that blends rock energy with a very human plea: learn from my mistake, appreciate love while it is still yours to hold.
“Chau” captures the raw moment when love slips away right before our eyes. The singer is sitting by the sea with their partner, but as the sun sets, the relationship fades too. When they turn to the right, the loved one is suddenly gone, out of earshot despite desperate shouts. An entire night on the sand follows, full of regret and the stubborn pulse of a heart that refuses to stop beating. The lyrics paint a vivid picture of confusion—How did this end? Why did I not see it coming?—and of an inner force that cannot be “corrected” because it lives in the bloodstream.
A year later the runaway lover returns, yet the narrator now guards their heart. Memories of past pain clash with the temptation to reopen old wounds. The voice in the song stands firm: they will not let tears or nostalgia erase the freedom they have reclaimed. With a final, decisive “¡Chau!” (Spanish for “Bye!”), the song celebrates self-respect and emotional survival. It is both a bittersweet goodbye and a victorious anthem reminding us that some doors must stay closed for the heart to keep beating strong.
“Tan Lejos” paints a picture of an inner storm: rain falls inside, eyes fog up, yet a hopeful smile flickers on a piece of paper. The narrator feels both trapped and liberated, searching the sky for an escape while promising that the downpour will eventually stop. Throughout the song, powerful mantras like “Cantando a pesar de las llamas” (singing despite the flames) remind us that even in chaos we can choose to lift our voices, find rhythm, and keep moving.
As the music swells, the singer makes a bold decision: “No quiero quedarme sentado… creo que me gusta así”. He decides not to return to a past relationship, embracing distance as a path to self-discovery. The lyrics comfort anyone shivering from emotional “cold,” assuring that the chill no longer exists here. By the final chorus, the message is clear: shout, sing, and push forward. The flames may roar, but our voices—and our resilience—can roar louder.
“No Necesito Nada” paints the picture of someone who is stumbling through life under a grey, confusing sky, feeling acostumbrado yet equivocado—stuck in routine while knowing something is off. Then, without warning, a special person appears and flips the whole script. Suddenly there is sunlight where there were clouds, a laugh without shadows, and an oasis of calm in the middle of the storm. Every borrowed smile, kiss, or moment of peace becomes the exact ingredient that was missing all along.
By the time the chorus rolls in, the message is crystal-clear: when this soulmate is near, nothing else is necessary. They “steal” body, soul, voice, sleep, and even words, but instead of feeling robbed, the singer feels complete. The song celebrates that magical connection where someone knows both what scares you and what delights you, turning scarcity into abundance with a single presence. It is a heartfelt anthem to love’s power to replace emptiness with fulfillment—and to make us shout with conviction, “No necesito nada.”
Take the Leap!
Tenés Que Saltar is No Te Va Gustar’s high-energy push for anyone frozen by indecision. The chorus repeats like a heartbeat: “Tenés que saltar” (you have to jump). Whether it’s me or someone else hesitating, the remedy is the same: gather courage and move.
The lyrics admit that uncertainty is inevitable. You might spot one, two, three possible exits, and still have no clue which is best. The band makes it clear: no song will erase your doubt. Instead, this track turns into a sonic trampoline, urging you to choose, trust yourself, and leap into the unknown.
Al Vacío captures the raw moment when love curdles into resentment and the only relief is to watch the other person walk away. The singer sits on the thin line between heartbreak and liberation, replaying the wounds of a relationship that feels like an open target: “Lo fueron a matar y lo dejaron con vida” paints the picture of someone emotionally shot yet still breathing. He is tired of chance encounters, tired of hope, and chooses instead to “sit and wait” for the final, definitive goodbye.
The chorus is a blunt wish: “Que saltes al vacío y que no vuelvas nunca” – a plea for the other to take the plunge into nothingness, never to return, forever haunted by guilt for stealing a piece of his soul. Underneath the anger lies a desperate need for closure. The song exposes that paradoxical mix of bitterness and self-defense: pushing someone away because keeping them close hurts even more. In the end, “Al Vacío” isn’t just about ending a romance. It is about reclaiming space, demanding accountability, and finding freedom in the echo of a slammed door.