
Javiera Mena invites us to step through a metaphorical doorway and onto the dance floor, where memories, regrets, and hopes swirl like colored lights. In Luz De Piedra De Luna the singer revisits a first love that still glows with the strange, iridescent shine of a moonstone. While she admits to feeling a “tibio arrepentimiento” (a gentle regret), the beat propels her forward, letting her live in the present instead of getting trapped in what-ifs. Every time she dances with this person, worries dissolve, and the only thing that matters is the hypnotic connection between two hearts moving in sync.
The song balances nostalgia and liberation. On one hand, she remembers promises whispered “en el río,” a symbol of flowing time and fleeting moments. On the other, each spin on the dance floor affirms that love is alive “en presente al fin.” Even knowing that the lover’s light could someday dim, she chooses to celebrate the glow right now, refusing to analyze it to death. The result is a shimmering electropop anthem about embracing the magic of love’s first spark, holding it close like a moonstone that never quite loses its light.
Flashback is Javiera Mena’s glittery confession of being stuck in a mental time machine. Over smooth electro-pop beats, she recalls “esos tiempos que nada pesaba,” the weightless days when her dreams met her lover’s at dawn and music made everything feel simple. Those memories strike like a camera flash, lighting up the present with nostalgia yet pulling her into a loop she admits she can’t quite leave.
In the second half of the song she faces the truth: the first-spark “brillo del comienzo” is impossible to recreate. Still, even if it “ya no brilla igual,” something of that magic remains. “Flashback” is both a celebration and a cautionary tale — a reminder that while it’s tempting to hide in yesterday’s glow, real life happens in the here and now.
Intuición invites you onto a neon-lit dance floor where every beat is a step toward self-trust. Javiera Mena teams up with Li Saumet to paint nightlife as a metaphor for life itself: we move through dazzling clubs and tempting trampas (traps), the music cuts out, we stumble, yet something inside urges us to rise again. That inner voice—la intuición—acts like a compass, reminding us that when the lights go dark, the heart can still keep time.
The song’s message is simple and uplifting: listen inward, keep dancing, and pour your soul into each move. By connecting with the rhythm, we reconnect with ourselves; intention turns motion into meaning. Whether you are gliding across a real dance floor or navigating the twists of daily life, “Intuición” celebrates the power of gut feelings to guide us past pitfalls and toward authentic joy.
Culpa plunges us into a neon-lit escape at the magic hour of five, where music becomes a secret gateway. The singer stretches out a hand and whispers “agárrala”, urging her partner to let the beat pull them past clocks and walls. It is an invitation to surrender—not to another person’s control, but to the irresistible current of rhythm, instinct and desire simmering beneath everyday life.
What they are really running from is guilt. By repeating “lejos del bien y lejos del mal,” Javiera Mena challenges the heavy labels of right and wrong, sketching a dream realm where pleasure is free of shame. Prophecies arrive with the sunrise, truths are felt through the body, and liberation is measured in heart-pounding steps on the dance floor. The song is a shimmering vow to live in that in-between space where joy is louder than judgment and every beat is a fresh start.
Have you ever met someone whose very presence feels like a time-machine? In Otra Era, Chilean synth-pop queen Javiera Mena sings about exactly that kind of encounter. She gazes at a mysterious person whose beauty, ideas, and outlook seem ripped from the pages of history yet also borrowed from the future. Their essence sends her mind spiraling through the Roman Empire, the Middle Ages, and even a utopian tomorrow, all while shimmering synths pulse beneath her voice. The result is a dreamy invitation to hop across centuries with a single glance.
At its core, the song celebrates a love that defies clocks and calendars. Mena repeats that she is “not looking for the end,” preferring instead to dive with this person into a new dimension where time bends and possibilities expand. Every chorus of “llévame a otra era” (take me to another era) is both a romantic plea and a manifesto for limitless imagination: with the right companion, you can rewrite history, explore futures unknown, and live in a perpetual present that feels thrillingly out of time.
“Mujer Contra Mujer” paints an intimate picture of two women daring to love each other in a society that still whispers about them. At first, their affection seems ordinary—just “dos mujeres que se dan la mano.” Yet as the song reveals the secret hand-holding “por debajo del mantel,” we feel the tension between their tender reality and the need to hide it. Javiera Mena gently contrasts their private, fearless passion with the public masks they wear as mere “amigas.”
The chorus flips the script: “¿Y lo que opinen los demás está de más?” In other words, the outside world’s gossip is irrelevant. The soaring image of doves taking flight says it all—love finds its own sky. “Mujer contra mujer” is not about conflict but about standing together, pushing against prejudice, and celebrating the freedom to love openly and proudly.
Sincronía, Pegaso feels like an electro-pop rocket ride into the magical moment when two people realize their connection is not just luck but pure synchronicity. Javiera Mena invites us to leap onto a metaphorical Pegasus, speeding past doubts and into a vivid new reality where instinct guides the way. Repeated words like rápido and vuela paint the rush of adrenaline that comes with saying “yes” to an unexpected cosmic bond.
At its heart, the song is a playful yet urgent plea: Give me a chance, admit what you feel, and let’s soar together. The lyrics celebrate trusting intuition, surrendering control, and embracing the exhilarating possibility that the universe has lined up this perfect encounter. Press play, spread your wings, and ride the beat toward your own moment of synchronicity.
Que Me Tome La Noche is Javiera Mena’s glitter-soaked plea for a night that never ends. Over bubbling synths, she remembers the words, laughter, and essence of someone who still haunts her thoughts, and she surrenders to the pull of the dancefloor where music feels like both magic and science. The chorus - “que me tome la noche y que no salga el sol” - captures that delicious wish to freeze time in the glow of club lights, to let the beat (la onda) carry her away before dawn can break the spell.
Yet beneath the shimmering sound lies a tension of longing and jealousy: she wonders why the person she desires is “con él,” guessing it might be fear of facing loneliness. Between the chants of “yeah, yeah, yeah” and playful “na na na” lines, she asks an aching question: what would happen if they kissed? The song celebrates night-time escapism and the bold hope that music, desire, and one unforgettable moment can outshine the sunrise.
Javiera Mena turns a seemingly medieval image—a sword tucked into a backpack—into an electro-pop metaphor for irresistible attraction. In Espada, the Chilean artist sings about spotting someone who instantly shifts her universe. She pictures love as a duel yet decides to sheathe her own blade and surrender, longing for the other person’s “sword” to pierce only her. That weapon symbolizes passion, desire, and the power another soul can have over us.
Across shimmering synths and celestial references—“a discotheque of stars,” a shape-shifting new moon—Mena contrasts cosmic wonder with intimate vulnerability. She confesses that competing or keeping her guard up no longer matters; what she craves is a total emotional eclipse, where the night uncovers the deepest, darkest center of who she is. The song celebrates giving in to love’s heat and mystery, letting equilibrium slip away so that passion can blaze in its place.
Javiera Mena, with Camila Moreno, brings us a song that feels like a push and pull of intense connection. It starts with this almost defiant feeling, like when she sings, "Me alzo y salto / Entre tus dedos sabré caer" [I rise and jump / Between your fingers I will know how to fall]. There's a hint of wanting to resist, even saying, "Ojalá / Que sea cierto que odio tus dedos" [Hopefully / It's true that I hate your fingers], but then immediately, that longing for closeness comes through.
The chorus, "Cuando respiro en tu boca / Penetra tu ojo en mi ojo" [When I breathe in your mouth / Your eye penetrates my eye], really gets to the heart of it. It's about a connection so deep it's almost overwhelming, where breathing together means seeing into each other's souls. The line "Me escondes como sangre a la herida" [You hide me like blood to the wound] is so striking, suggesting a protective, almost secret bond. It's a beautiful and slightly dramatic exploration of intimacy, where even the idea of hating someone's touch is quickly overshadowed by a desire for complete surrender.