Dedicated fans can get a bit extreme about the music they love. Some collect bootleg recordings, rare mementos, or obscure B sides. Others hop from city to city, following their favorite band on tour. In the case of former journalist Miguel Gálvez, his particular obsession has a lofty specificity to it, the makings of an epic crusade. He won’t rest until the legendary Argentine trio Soda Stereo is inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
“I associate Soda Stereo with a wonderful time in my life,” the 56-year-old Gálvez says from his Southern California home. “When I was a college student in Mexicali, we would go see them in concert, and its music was ever present in parties and gatherings. This is a band that kept reinventing itself from album to album, and it was always ahead of its time in every possible aspect, from its aesthetic choices to the sound and visuals.”
Anybody who has grown up in Latin America will corroborate Gálvez’s assertion: The legacy of Soda Stereo stands comfortably next to Hall of Fame inductees such as The Cure, Depeche Mode or The Police. It was around the late Nineties that the albums by Latin rockers began to match the level of gravitas and inspiration found in mainstream genre masters like Radiohead or U2, but the Hall of Fame has been notoriously slow in recognizing the creative apex that has been blossoming Latin America during the past three decades.
Fan efforts may have started to yield concrete results. This year, Mexican group Maná was part of the initial group of nominees, making history as the first Spanish-language group ever nominated. The Mexican rock group dedicated their nomination to immigrants in the U.S. “We want to share this recognition with all Latinos everywhere, especially the immigrants who are suffering right now,” frontman Fher Olvera said in a statement.
However, the band missed the necessary votes to get inducted. Their nomination also wasn’t without controversy, as many critics saw it as an example of patent ignorance of Latin music. Some pointed out that Maná may be a force to reckon with in terms of commercial success, but the quartet’s music has more in common with the corporate rock of American bands like Journey or Foreigner. Still, the nomination galvanized fans and inspired them to lobby genre-breakers who haven’t gotten their due among American audiences: Soda Stereo, Café Tacvba, or Fabulosos Cadillacs, among others, with Gálvez’s campaign being the only one capable of gaining serious momentum.
Mana during the MTV Video Music Awards.
Jeff Kravitz/FilmMagic
The case for Soda Stereo is a particularly strong one. Led by singer/songwriter and guitarist Gustavo Cerati, Soda emerged from the newly democratic Buenos Aires of the mid-Eighties. The band’s cool, angular sound was clearly based on British new wave, but was also infused with the lyrical contours of South American poetry.
Together with bass player Zeta Bosio and drummer Charly Alberti, Cerati proved from the onset that his band’s regal melodies and Spanish wordplay were just as seductive as the polished radio hits in English that dominated the airwaves. Latin America caught on quickly, and Soda enjoyed massive success, spearheading a wave of rock en español acts. Better yet, each of their seven studio albums was better than the previous one, culminating with 1992’s Dynamo — seeped in shoegaze guitars — and 1995’s psychedelic magnum opus Sueño Stereo, a dreamlike, hazy swan song for the ages.
“Soda showed the rest of Latin America that rock en español was not only a viable proposition — it could also be hugely popular,” Gálvez points out. “Even if you take into account the obvious technical limitations of the music industry in our nations, this band was on the same level as the great exponents of Anglo rock.”
Soda broke up in 1997 following a triumphant tour that spawned the classic Cerati farewell line gracias totales. The singer’s solo career enjoyed critical and commercial success, and Soda returned for a comeback tour in 2007. Cerati’s death in 2014 at age 55 dashed any hopes for a subsequent studio recording, but the trio’s legacy continues to influence younger generations of Latin rockers.
“They definitely belong in the Hall of Fame,” says producer Tweety González, who played keyboards with the band for years, and is widely known as “the fourth Soda.” “I’m not a faithful believer in those kinds of awards, since they operate a bit too close to the industry for my taste. On the other hand, a recognition from the Hall of Fame would be symbolic, and Soda was the band that crowned the rock en español genre.”
“Sometimes the door has to be opened in order for you to walk through,” adds guitarist Carlos Alomar, who produced Soda’s groundbreaking Doble Vida album in 1988. “And if that door is in fact open, then Soda Stereo should be given the utmost consideration. One of the things I found amazing about them was the consistency of their writing. The fidelity in their sound created a greater vehicle for their expression.”
The idea for a potential campaign came to Gálvez in 2011 during a weekend trip to his native Baja California. “My wife and I were getting ready to go out when a clip from the U2 induction appeared on TV,” he recalls. “I was watching U2 performing with Bruce Springsteen, when I realized that Soda could have a place in that ceremony. Suddenly, this notion made perfect sense to me.”
But it was only in 2020, when the pandemic forced Gálvez to quarantine and work from home, that he put his plan in motion.
“It was such a dark moment for all,” he reflects. “I thought a campaign like this one could bring a bit of light.”
Soon, he launched a dedicated website — and a petition that currently boasts over 38,000 signatures. Most importantly, he enlisted major players in the Latino community to contribute videos in support of the cause, from Alomar and Latin rock godfather Gustavo Santaolalla to Spanish star Enrique Bunbury and Café Tacvba singer Rubén Albarrán. Gálvez penned essays for Billboard and the Miami Herald. He has also been in touch with some of the Hall of Fame executives.
“This is not just the campaign of a Mexican journalist,” he says. “It’s a fan movement that seeks to safeguard the group’s legacy in its rightful global place.”
I asked Gálvez what his reaction would be if, after so many years of tireless campaigning, his dream came true and Soda was inducted. “I would feel an immense sense of satisfaction, because I’ve always known it could happen,” he says. “Many people have called me crazy, but those accusations have wavered as I get more support from the industry. Mostly, I would be happy because of the affection that I feel for these three musicians on a personal level. After Gustavo’s death, music lost some of its meaning for me.”
“My first rehearsal with Soda was in 1989, just as they were getting ready to complete the Doble Vida tour,” says Tweety González from Buenos Aires. “I harbored some doubts and prejudice about the band, but they dispelled as soon as we played the first couple of chords together.”
He pauses for a second, his voice revealing a hint of sadness. “At that specific moment, I knew that I was in the presence of a formidable band.”
