In a building in Old San Juan, Puerto Rico, Ancaya de la Tanca, Armando Lopez and his band

Epilohio are noodling around.

There's an engineer there with him too, his name's Mateo.

The studio is on the second floor, it's great with natural light and there are black and

white checkered tiles on the floor.

Armando and Mateo are trying out various ideas, different drum templates, basically just

messing around.

And it was on a day like this, when suddenly.

The old jukebox in the corner of the room turns on by itself.

We were recording.

It was like, what's that sound, and it went to the heavens up, dude, it was freaky.

I said, oh, you know, I said, oh, I'm sorry, and they said, no, let the song play.

Let it finish.

Mateo, the engineer, he owns and runs the studio and he had bought this jukebox from an old

man whose wife had just died.

The old man had told him that his wife had loved the old jukebox.

She would sit there every night from 6 to 8 o'clock and listen to the jukebox in her favorite

songs.

Damn.

It's her.

It's her, dude.

Yeah, it could be her.

...