Los Lichis (three Mexicans, one Frenchman), there is no servile lineage to deplore: we are not tied to anything really specific, preferring to emancipate ourselves from overly showy supervision in favor of a mysterious exoticism. So let's forget the Germans labeled "seventies", both Guru Guru and the first version of Amon Düül or Can, but also their spiritual heirs Cul de Sac, or those groups which, like them and in the manner of the No Neck Blues Band, have made informal improvisation a ritual, even if it is true that in terms of kinship, there has existed since the 2000s a family of ensembles with similar concerns hosted by the label of the American critic Byron Coley. Because, like no other, the members of Los Lichis have their own theater of operations, a miraculous stateless maze blurring the lines in search of an imaginary folklore. And by dint of having overwhelmed the infinity of possibilities, their approach has freed itself from all asphyxiating culture like frozen temporalit