Time flows freely in Lluvia fue (Chamber Tango), from the ’30s, through the Golden Age, the ferment of Piazzolla and into this century. Twelve composers and nine lyricists are represented. The lyrics address ex-lovers, the bandoneón, Buenos Aires, society gone bad, or, introspectively, the singer herself. They ask, implore, plead and demand: “tell me a story” (Contame una historia), “speak to me of your failure… talk to me simply of that absent love” (La última curda), “let me see the leaves of dawn” (Conjuro del alba), “Go!” (Fuimos), “moan, bandoneón, your grey tango” (Nostalgias). And turn inwards: to memory, dream and reflection, to rain that depresses, as in Fuimos, or refreshes, as in Lluvia fue (the title song). In De barro, a puddle of mud is a glass of remembered dreams.