With over 30 years of history, Cuarteto de Nos ignites Rock al Parque: "Our audience is under 20."

Cuarteto de Nos is irony, humor, and good lyrics embodied in music. They started as a three-piece band but decided to call themselves a quartet. They've been in the industry for more than three decades, but only recently did they dedicate themselves to good melodies, because before that, Roberto Musso was an engineer and the other members (Ricardo Musso and Santiago Tavella) were architects.

After work, they used to play in bars to audiences of no more than 60 people. Everything changed when "Going to Damián's House" became a worldwide hit. But who is Damián, and why does everyone go to his house? He, like many other characters in the band's songs, lives in Talo, a fictional city where all the stories that make up the group's narrative universe converge.

"It's not a specific person. Yes, there's inspiration from the character in Hermann Hesse's book, Demian, but it's also a symbolic name. Damián could be anyone... or even something or no one," Roberto Musso tells EL TIEMPO.

When Cuarteto de Nos entered Damián's house, they never left. It became a world filled with doors that led them to win a Latin Grammy, nearly 4 million monthly listeners, and hits with up to 177 million streams, such as "Enamorado tuyo."

"There are doors we knocked on that didn't open, others we crossed and things went wrong, and even doors we returned to, even though we'd promised not to. Then there are those we didn't even try to open. All of that comes across in the song, and it also reflects much of the Cuarteto's history. In our early days, music was a hobby, something on the side. But several years ago, it became our life. That was a big door we crossed, or, as I sometimes say, a portal that, luckily, we never left and that we continue to enjoy very much," Roberto reflects to this newspaper.

With alternative rock, without talking about love, heartbreak, death, or loss in a clichéd way, the group, currently led by its vocalist Roberto, has earned recognition in Latin America and has brought witty verses to posterity such as: "He got rid of the pregnant woman," "There are answers that dreams bring, and other times they are so obvious that you can see them without asking," and "Among so many falsehoods, many of my lies are already truths."

"With the Quartet, we've always tried to move away from the standard, from what's common in many musical genres. That's been the band's hallmark: songs with a more philosophical, psychological approach... even, in some cases, surreal. And that has resonated strongly with the public, especially with a younger audience," says the 63-year-old, who reviews each of the 17 albums he's composed, so as not to repeat rhythms or themes, when he sits down to write.

In this way, the Uruguayan group, which consolidated its position at the end of the dictatorship, has turned each show into an interesting amalgamation, featuring albums composed in 1985, 2006, or 2025. Each one features unconventional themes and increasingly bizarre stories, but ones that many of its listeners have identified with.

Their rebellious lyrics have allowed the band to connect with twenty-somethings of the '80s, '90s, and '00s. Staying young—in spirit and attitude—has always been one of the three keys to their continued relevance. The first: believing in what they do and creating music that, above all else, appeals to them. The second: continuing to enjoy it as much as the first day. And the third: reaching new generations.

"Today you go to a Cuarteto show and the majority of our audience is under 20. That's crazy because many people first encountered Cuarteto when they were younger, whether in Colombia or other Latin American countries. I'd love to compile statistics on that. I'm sure most of them discovered us as teenagers. A sociological study would be in order," the vocalist says, laughing, adding that he's always tried to write songs from his biological age.

"There are those who tell us that the Cuarteto's songs are their only point of connection with reality, and that fills me with pride," he says.

Among those few people who listened to him in bars was Gustavo Cerati. "The recognition of people like him, whom we've always admired, is very important. He heard us when we were just starting out in Buenos Aires and said he thought it was a breath of fresh air for rock. That was about 18 years ago. Imagine the vision he had," Musso says.

"When the girl wants to walk,

starts walking and falls when he stumbles,

you have to get up, because that way you get better.

The baby keeps moving forward, the baby doesn't cry."

This could be one of the band's most romantic compositions and was born with Federica, Roberto's daughter who is now 14 years old.

"Just today I dropped my daughter off at her guitar lesson. I wrote the song when she was one or two years old. And yes, I think it's one of the Cuarteto's most emotional songs. I always wanted it to have a balance between a love song and something rawer, more real," says Roberto.

And he adds: "I was very careful not to fall into clichés. I think that rawness, that humanity it has, is what makes it so special. Since it came out, we've always played it at shows, and it creates a very emotional moment with the audience. It's different from many of Cuarteto's other songs, but that's precisely why it works so well and gives the show an emotional dimension that enriches the experience."

From seemingly tender tunes, this band has been able to leap into alternative rock anthems, such as "Lo malo de ser buen" (The Bad Thing About Being Good), an iconic song that is heard throughout Latin America. There is a part that says: "And there is no contradiction, I said I would be wrong/And since I was wrong, I was right." This fragment, although discreet, demonstrates a thought that has stayed with Roberto since his time at engineering school.

"It's closely related to the error in the scientific method. To not being afraid of failure. To experimenting, trying, and if something goes wrong, starting over. I apply it to everything I do in life, including music. From writing to rehearsals, we work like this: allowing ourselves to fail, taking risks without fear. And, in reality, those risks are the ones that have yielded the most. Often, the songs that are on the cutting edge, those that make us doubt and say, 'How will people receive this?', are precisely the ones that the public ends up appreciating the most," says the singer.

Like this song, the Cuarteto's albums are full of contradictions. Hence, compositions like " The Astronomer Who Couldn't See the Sky," "Sharks in the Woods," "Christ Hates Me," and more, which are also filled with humor.

"That's been changing. In the '90s, humor was more explicit. Later, it transformed into irony, sarcasm, or simply an observant gaze . It was a way of breaking away from a formula that perhaps at some point could become tiresome, both for us and for the public. And, of course, the world changed too. The things that inspired me in the '90s no longer inspire me today, although I still like the way they came out on the albums from that era," says Roberto.

Despite this, the musician doesn't regret what he's written before. " I think they're perfect for their moment. I don't listen to our old songs either; I almost never do. But if I hear them out there, I think they're fantastic," he says.

Roberto Musso, though barely 60, is full of energy to challenge the world with catchy lyrics that leave listeners thinking . His next stage is Rock al Parque, the first major festival they attended outside their comfort zone, which was located between Uruguay and Argentina.

"We premiered Damián there, when people barely knew us, and now we're closing out one of the nights. It's beautiful to see how everything has evolved," Musso recalls.

María Jimena Delgado Díaz