“Guys with boots on, empty pockets and full cojones: songs are the only things we have… our songs and ourselves”. It is the summer of 1987 and the music of Madonna and George Michael is everywhere. Except in the ear of Rompepistas. For him, a shortsighted, clumsy punk living on the industrial periphery of Barcelona, the only songs he cares about are the ones by Generation X, the Clash, the Jam and those of his own group, Las Duelistas. Time passes quickly for Rompepistas alongside his best friends: the fat punk Carnaval, his exgirlfriend Clareana, who now despises him (he hates her too, but less). And Chopped, leader of a gang called Skinheads for Peace. These are the guys with their boots on, who laugh and fall down together, with torn clothes and torn souls, with tight trousers and shaved heads, without manners, nor any future. But a bloody war has just broken out with a gang from the town next door, Rompepistas’ parents are about to separate, Clareana hates him a bit more every day, Carnaval has stopped speaking to him, power is going to Chopped’s head and the Cuellos are also unhappy. Added to this scenario are punches and kicks, reggae and ska, pyrrhic victories, malign priests and the desperate circumstances of Barcelona’s poor neighbourhood. Like Rebels by S.E. Hinton and The Wanderers by Richard Price, this is a moving novel about friendship, guilt, blood ties and a surrender to music.