"La mediocridad al palo" is a raw and provocative musical exploration of modern societal apathy and self-centeredness. The song delves into the pervasive lack of empathy and respect, portraying a world where individuals are trapped in a cycle of conformity and indifference. It critiques the idea that personal gain and self-preservation are valued above genuine human connection, using vivid imagery to highlight the struggle between the desire to break free from mediocrity and the overwhelming pressure to remain within the confines of a homogenized society.

The lyrics present a series of stark contrasts—between what one dreams of achieving and the harsh reality of a system that rewards conformity. Throughout the song, symbols such as faceless crowds, oppressive urban landscapes, and messages like "No pienses" (Don't think) serve as metaphors for a society that discourages introspection and personal growth. Federico Gerhardt's work not only challenges listeners to question the status quo but also offers a poignant commentary on the internal and external battles we face when trying to assert our individuality in an environment that often feels devoid of true connection.

In essence, "La mediocridad al palo" is both a call to awareness and a mirror reflecting the deep-seated loneliness and despair that can result from living in a society that values mediocrity over meaningful engagement.

La mediocridad al palo

"Mientras la Vivimos" is a deeply personal song for me, a Blues piece born from reflecting on life’s impermanence. The acoustic guitars set the foundation, with their warm, steady rhythm carrying the emotions of the song. Violins flow in like waves, adding a haunting, almost nostalgic layer that complements the introspective lyrics.  

Writing this song was like asking myself the big questions—what is life, and why are we here? The lyrics explore that fragile balance between building our dreams and watching them slip away, like a sandcastle washed by the tide.  

The harmonized backing vocals and subtle chants create an intimate yet universal feeling, almost like the voice of our collective doubts and realizations.  

What makes "Mientras la Vivimos" special is how the instruments and words come together to tell a story—not just mine, but one that listeners can see themselves in. It’s a reminder that life is fleeting, but in its fleeting nature lies its beauty.

Mientras la vivimos

"Si crees que dejarme es fácil" was born in one of those moments when you're left alone with your thoughts, when there’s nothing left to say but everything still aches inside. It's a song that doesn’t scream, but hurts in every word.

I wrote it on acoustic guitar, keeping it simple, almost like having a quiet conversation. Later, I felt it needed something more—a soft, constant whisper behind it. That’s when the organ came in, holding the harmony, like the echo of everything unresolved. Together, they created the Folk-Britpop vibe I was aiming for: raw, direct, but with a melancholic beauty.

The lyrics are a release. They talk about how we sometimes endure our own pain just to spare someone else’s, about the stories we tell ourselves to justify what hurts, and the inner battle of letting go of something that once defined us. It's not a song of blame, but of acceptance—understanding that loving also means knowing when to let go.

What I love most about this acoustic version is the intimacy. No tricks, no effects. Just the voice, the steady rhythm of the guitar, and that organ in the background wrapping everything, as if the song itself was breathing with you.

"Si crees que dejarme es fácil" is, at its core, a letter that doesn’t ask for answers. It just needs to be heard.

Si crees que dejarme es fácil

"God's gonna..." is a personal and reimagined version of Johnny Cash’s classic, "God's Gonna Cut You Down", where I’ve restructured the melody to give it a new sound and emotional depth. The essence of the song remains intact, but the interpretation has evolved into a more intense and visceral atmosphere. The slide guitar plays a pivotal role, creating a powerful contrast with the vocals, almost competing for the listener’s attention, while the acoustic guitar solidly marks the harmonies, adding body and depth to the song.

The lyrics, which were already full of warning and defiance in its original version, are amplified by the musical arrangement. My version seeks to intensify the sense of impending divine justice, that no matter how much one runs or hides, sooner or later the truth will come to light. This interpretation not only respects the original message of the song but transforms it, creating a rawer and more emotional sonic experience.

God's gonna...

God's gonna cut you down

"Extraña moneda" was born from that deeply human feeling of having something precious in your hands and losing it without fully understanding how. It’s an intimate and nostalgic song, where every word carries the weight of someone who once was a refuge and a treasure — and is now simply absence.

Musically, the emotional depth of the song comes through in the layered textures. The acoustic guitars draw the outline of the story — warm but slightly broken — while the electric guitars drift in subtly, almost like ghosts from the past, adding a melancholic hue to each verse. The handclaps, dry and minimal, set a heartbeat-like rhythm, echoing the lonely walk of someone searching for what’s already gone.

But what moves me most in this track are the harmonica solos. They’re not there to show off — they speak when the voice can’t. The harmonica weeps where the lyrics break down, accompanying each stanza like a sorrowful whisper.

"Extraña moneda" isn’t a song of blame. It’s a farewell, full of love — an attempt to give shape to emptiness. Because sometimes, what we lose still weighs on us... even when it’s no longer there.

Extraña moneda

"No me siento mal" was born at a time when I needed to shake off the weight of routine and the quiet sadness that sometimes sneaks in. Even though the lyrics talk about feeling tired and warning signs running through the mind, the song stands tall with a smile and simply says: “I’m still here, and I don’t feel down.”

Musically, I wanted it to feel bright and in motion. The acoustic guitar drives the song forward, like someone walking confidently toward something better. The brush percussion and handclaps add a warm, human groove — like playing outside with friends on a sunny day. But what I love most is the way the harmonica solos fly in: not crying, not shouting... just breathing hope between verses.

This isn’t a protest song or a resignation. It’s a quiet but firm statement: there are grey days, routines that wear you down, but there’s also music — and a spirit that won’t give up.
"No me siento mal" is my way of saying I’m still moving — with guitar, harmonica, and a light heart.

No me siento mal

"Siempre de pie" was born as a quiet but steady cry. Not out of anger, but out of conviction. It’s about holding on—not with clenched fists, but with an open heart. About keeping on even when you don’t have answers, when everything feels shaky… and still, you don’t fall.

This acoustic version has something very special for me. The guitar keeps the pulse steady and warm, like a heartbeat that doesn’t give up. I added a vintage organ that brings an emotional layer — something like a secular prayer, or a street-born hymn. The phrases are long, because that’s how I felt it: like every line needed all the breath I had to come out. And the vocal harmonies are my way of not singing alone — even if I’m the only one recording it. There’s something collective in the act of staying upright, and I wanted that to come through.

This isn’t a song about heroic resistance. It’s a song for the everyday fight. The kind you hum under your breath when you’re tired, but still know you’ll keep going. Because in the end, that’s what it’s about: keep going, no matter what — Siempre de pie.

Siempre de pie

This is a reinvention of "Plush" by Stone Temple Pilots, reimagined with a more intimate and reflective atmosphere.
The slide guitar, almost vying for space with the vocals, adds a raw, emotional texture, while the acoustic guitar anchors the harmony with a steady, grounded rhythm.

The song’s darker undertones—uncertainty, the passing of time, and unfulfilled longing—are amplified through this stripped-back arrangement, turning it into a journey across an emotional landscape.

Themes of searching, questioning, and the relentlessness of time are mirrored in the haunting mood. The dogs become a symbol of an inevitable pursuit, a fate that closes in no matter how far one runs.

It’s a version that reaches inward, carving out space for both desolation and hope—leaving behind not just a song, but a lasting echo in the heart of the listener.

Plush

Gracias por esperar is a very personal song. It’s not meant to be perfect — it just says something I’ve been needing to say for a long time.

It’s about my father, and how his presence and way of being shaped me from the start. It’s also about myself, about my journey, about all the things I kept quiet for years, and how I slowly grew as a person — sometimes in silence, sometimes against the current — but always holding on to something I couldn’t explain.

I wrote it when I realized I could no longer keep that gratitude to myself. Because it’s never too late to say thank you, even if it takes a while to find the words.
I used acoustic guitar, organ, and harmonica — the sounds that feel most like me. No tricks, just who I am.

Gracias por esperar

Here, There and Everywhere has always been one of my favorite Beatles songs. It’s intimate, simple, and deeply emotional. In this version, I tried to stay true to that feeling, but bring it into my own sound.

What struck me most about the original was the vocal harmony. I didn’t try to copy it exactly — instead, I tried to recreate that atmosphere using my own instruments, building textures that feel close to that mood.

It’s not a replica, it’s my way of paying tribute. Recording it was an exercise in memory, sensitivity, and sound exploration. I’m happy with how it turned out.

Here, there and everywhere

Flower is a song by Amos Lee that always moved me because of how honest and simple it is. In this version, I wanted to keep that feeling but also make it my own.

I recorded it with acoustic guitar, harmonica, and organ — keeping it intimate and real. It’s not about copying, it’s about singing it from who I am.
Every word I sang believing what the song says: that love, even through fear or loneliness, is still a real force.

Basadas y Covers I

Flower

Federico Gerhardt is a versatile Argentine musician who moves effortlessly between blues, pop, and funk.

As a singer, harmonica player, and guitarist, he has made the cigar box guitar one of his trademarks, blending tradition with experimentation in every performance.

His music ranges from the raw authenticity of blues to the freshness of contemporary sounds, always carried by honest lyrics and deep emotional presence.

Beyond being a songwriter, Federico is also a luthier, crafting and playing his own instruments, which gives his work a unique and handcrafted identity.

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