“Vada Come Vada” (literally Whatever Happens, Happens) feels like flooring the gas pedal on life’s craziest road trip. Blanco pictures existence as a long highway back home, only you are stuck in a beat-up car, dodging trouble and laughing at the chaos. He mixes youthful recklessness—four people on a scooter, no helmets, wind in their faces—with the push-and-pull of love, guilt and self-doubt. Every line crackles with that I-know-it’s-wrong-but-it-feels-so-right energy: shouting poetry or profanity on city walls, crashing on a mattress stained with beer and ashes, promising to change while filling up alone at a gas station.
Under the wild imagery sits a surprisingly tender message. Life is messy, lovers are mysterious instruments we can’t quite play, and happiness might just be talking nonsense with a few good friends. The song invites you to embrace the ride—faults, thrills and all—because sometimes the only thing to do is sing along, feel the wind and let things go vada come vada.