Junior H’s “ÍNDICE” feels like pulling up a stool next to the singer at a late-night cantina. In just a few verses he defends modern corridos, thanks music for keeping him alive, and asks the bartender for “doble, triple, simple” rounds to drown a heavy heart. While critics question this new wave of regional Mexican sounds, Junior H plants his flag with swagger: only God can judge him, and if corridos ever die, he would rather go with them.
Beyond the bravado, the song doubles as a private journal entry. He admits to past sins, marvels at all the charts he has broken, and reveals that the whole two-year project—aptly titled Contingente—might never see a sequel. “ÍNDICE” is part confession, part celebration, and one hundred percent love letter to the genre that raised him.