Rayko came up through Madrid’s backstreets with a record bag heavy on disco ghosts and a head wired to the future. A Spaniard with a fixation on the cosmic, he carved out his reputation by cutting, stretching, and re-wiring vintage grooves until they pulsed like something new, dangerous, alive.
His productions mostly carry that Balearic twilight — half-sunset, half-strobe — where basslines throb like a city heartbeat and melodies slip between memory and invention. Past bleeding into present, sweat into shimmer.
In the edit culture underground, he’s become one of the names of legends, even more so with his own Rare Wiri imprint.
On the new Pines En Ti Vol. 1 EP he ventures out into the night with a rhinestone studded bodybag on the boney graveyard of Spanish mid-80ies post disco, and digs deep to secure his plunder. I’ve picked to take a closer listen to Quien La Mato from the EP.
Miguel Bosé’s “¿Quién la mató?” is the sound of an artist detonating his old skin. By 1987, Bosé had already burned his teen idol past; the album Xxx was the wreckage and the rebirth — tense, synthetic, shadowed.
“¿Quién la mató?” (“Who killed her?”) dropped into that climate like a whispered accusation. It wasn’t a chart assault, it was something stranger: a cold-blooded pop vignette dressed in neon noir, halfway between European new wave and an art film soundtrack. The title alone suggested crime scene and scandal, and Bosé leaned into it — dramatic, enigmatic, a star who’d stopped chasing mass approval and started chasing atmospheres.
The song has lived a double life: forgotten in mainstream memory, but cherished by those who heard in it a crack of subversion. Decades later, DJs dug it back up, slicing it into Balearic sets and re-edit culture, proving that Bosé’s experiments in drama and tension hadn’t lost their pulse.
This was Bosé as outlaw — no longer the safe crooner, but a risk-taker framing murder and mystery inside a pop song. Not the anthem of a generation, but the kind of track that lingers, unsettling, long after the needle lifts.
Rayko engages his timemachine, adds a fistfull of synths and a dab of mirrorball glitter and makes it shine for the kids of the 80ies once more, and for the kids of today eager to learn from the past.
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