Rómulo’s band can combine the sounds of the city in which they live with the sounds of faraway cities on other continents or in a not-too-distant dystopian future. We are fascinated by the dancing sum of the sounds of disease-carrying mosquitoes, machines that produce parties in the isolation of small apartments, and things, many things, that break.

This song is like a secret whispered by the wind. For us, it proves, in the most material way possible, the loves, the lives, the unwitnessed stories. Like a kind of psychography that connects us to a historical, invisible, active dance floor. A space-time warp.

Our idea was that the parties in Fortaleza and Lisbon (the fictional party and the real party; the apathetic party and the party among friends) would come together through overlapping elements. Someone dancing to music and someone else watching music being danced to. I don’t know if we managed it, but “Solteiro” was a huge inspiration, and even today, when we listen to it, something escapes us.

Great dance-floor music has the ability to awaken us to the present moment and at the same time make us dream.