Niños del Bosque is more than AKIRA’s debut—it’s a bridge between continents, generations, and sonic traditions. Born of an Argentinian father and Swiss-French mother, AKIRA’s identity is woven into the album’s DNA. The record effortlessly blends Latin America’s rhythmic heartbeats with European precision and a psychedelic haze that feels both ancient and new. It’s a collection that respects tradition without becoming trapped by it.
From the opening Kumbia de los Pájaros, the listener is invited into a ceremonial space where nature, memory, and movement converge. The percussion pulses like the forest’s own heartbeat, while reverberated guitars shimmer like sunlight filtering through leaves. This isn’t just background music—it’s an immersive environment.
Tracks like Mononoke and La Del Ladrón reveal AKIRA’s ability to infuse social commentary into danceable grooves. His lyrics don’t preach; they provoke reflection while the body moves, showing that joy and resistance are not opposites but partners in the dance of life.
One of the album’s strongest achievements is Abuelita, a moving closer that intertwines personal memory with ancestral homage. The subtle influence of Ayahuasca visions and the weight of identity give the song a depth that lingers long after it ends. It’s a fitting conclusion to a work so concerned with roots, both literal and metaphorical.
With Niños del Bosque, AKIRA has carved out his own lane—Psychedelic Cumbia—that feels as vital for the dancefloor as it is for the cultural conversation. It’s an album that will make you move, think, and dream all at once.
