Extravaganza and the fakest smile in the neighbourhood

We all know someone like this. They offend, they lie, and no matter what you say to them, they keep smiling. Extravaganza is the portrait of that person, and its chorus sums the character up in one exclamation: «¡qué sonrisa más falsa!» ("what a fake smile!").

The lyrics are built like a slow-motion reveal. At first the protagonist seems charming, and little by little the narrator is taken aback by her, because the «careta», the mask, is starting to show. I really like that word, careta, which has something of carnival and theatre about it: the face you put on to go on stage and that sooner or later falls off.

The most interesting thing is the point of view. The narrator says he isn't destroying her, he's simply getting to know her. It isn't a revenge song or a pile-on. It's more the calm of someone who finally sees clearly. And even so, he admits a very human little piece of spite: he doesn't feel sorry if people insult her, because after all that's the hidden smile. That mix of calm and grudge feels very copla to me, where disillusion is always expressed with elegance but with a sharpened nail.

The title plays with a word we associate with show business, cabaret, excess. And it fits: the fake smile is a permanent performance, an extravagance kept up by never stopping smiling, whatever happens. She's almost a drag character, though without drag's love for the truth.

The repetition of the chorus makes the song stick, and that's part of the game. The more times you hear the bit about the fake smile, the clearer it is who it's about, even though the lyrics never say her name.

Who to dedicate it to? That colleague, that relative or that friend in the group who always says something to you with a charming grin and the worst intentions. No need to send it to her. Just put it on yourself when you run into her.

The full lyrics are below. Listen on Spotify