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  • Tell Me Más: Elsa y Elmar Gets Candid About Mental Health and How It Impacted Her Album “PALACIO”

    Tell Me Más: Elsa y Elmar Gets Candid About Mental Health and How It Impacted Her Album “PALACIO”

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    In our Q&A /feature series Tell Me Más, we ask some of our favorite Latine celebs to share some inside info about their lives and some of the ways they are prioritizing their mental health. This month, we spoke with Colombian rising star Elsa y Elmar about dealing with burnout, safeguarding her mental health, and how all this impacted the process of creating her latest album, “PALACIO.”

    Elsa Margarita Carvajal is no stranger to success. Better known by her stage name, Elsa y Elmar, the Latin Grammy-nominated singer has been making waves in the music scene for more than a decade. But with her latest album “PALACIO” releasing on August 30th, and on the brink of hitting the road for her biggest tour yet, Carvajal is poised to reach a whole new level. To reach that level once meant putting in many years on the indie circuit and playing solo in bars trying to connect to people who had never heard of her. And even though her unknown indie artist days are behind her, the singer admits that the pressure remains. Carvajal says that pressure can be both good and bad. On the one hand it can push artists to achieve bigger and better things, reaching the levels previously reached by their idols.

    But on the other hand, the constant pressure to push for more and compare oneself to their peers or those who came before can be detrimental from a mental health perspective. The songstress says that she sometimes found herself in a constant state of work, thinking about what more she can do. This led her to take a much needed break to recharge after her last album “Ya No Somos Los Mismos.” However, in the intervening two years, the singer-songwriter has learned valuable lessons about self-care, understanding when she needs to be “on” and when she needs to take time for herself. From this mentality and two years of no labels and A&Rs asking her for new music or what she was going to do next, Carvajal was able to bounce back from her bout of burnout with her new disc “PALACIO.” The album is the first to be released on her new label, Elmar Presenta, and tackles various challenges many of us deal with on a daily basis. In a recent interview, she sat down with PS to talk about mental health and creative pressures and dive into some of the sentiments behind the project.

    PS: You’re about to perform in your biggest venue ever. How does it feel getting to this point in your career?

    Elsa y Elmar: You know, it’s really interesting because all the odds were against me. I’m not from that generation of women in pop like Belenova, Julieta Venegas, and Natalia Lafourcade. And I’m also not an urbano artist. I’m an artist that, since day one, the people I’d work with would say, “I don’t know where you fit in. I don’t know how to explain [your sound], whether you’re indie or alternative.”

    PS: What are some things that might surprise people about the reality of being a professional musician?

    Elsa y Elmar: It’s physically and mentally taxing and requires a lot of patience . . . I feel like I’m always on.

    PS: How have you learned to balance the pressure to be creative with the need to turn off and indulge in self-care?

    Elsa y Elmar: I try to take maximum advantage of the periods when I’m feeling most creative and make as many ideas, songs, and videos as I can because I know at any given moment, there’s going to be a dry spell. But I also try to take advantage of that time when I’m not feeling as creative, and not stress, trusting that the creativity will return.

    PS: What were some of the factors that led to your two-year hiatus?

    Elsa y Elmar: I was tired of the bureaucracy, of the expectations, of working with the big labels, of just chasing the carrot. I decided that if I was going to chase any carrot, it was going to be my carrot.

    PS: The album is filled with songs that tackle real-life issues. But maybe the song that has attracted the most attention so far is “Entre Las Piernas,” a song celebrating menstruation. What inspired you to tackle a topic that, to some, is still considered taboo?

    Elsa y Elmar: Being honest, the subject hadn’t really crossed my mind as song-worthy, until one day it just hit me that half of the population of the planet bleeds once a month. And even today in 2024 it’s a subject that’s still taboo, that still grosses people out, and we’re not supposed to talk about…and I just thought “thousands of love songs have been written and no one’s written about this topic that’s so common?”

    PS: On another standout on the album, you apply incredible sensitivity to the “mini heartbreak” of being left on read with the song “Visto” — a uniquely digital problem that the singer manages to make feel timeless. Why did you think something as simple as being ignored via text can be so painful?

    Elsa y Elmar: I mean, obviously there are legitimate reasons that people get left on read . . . but what I’m talking about in the song is when you’re being vulnerable with someone and they leave you on read, and that feels horrible, to not understand why the other side of the conversation rather than communicate what they feel, eliminates the possibility of communication and leaves you with a mountain of questions and self-doubt.

    PS: Lastly, for those who might be going through what you’ve passed through in the last two years — heartbreak, pressure to create, being left on read — can you give them any advice on how you kept yourself centered?

    Elsa y Elmar: The other day I was listening to a little chat and [heard something] that struck me as very beautiful. If a problem has a solution, it’s no problem. And if it doesn’t have a solution, it’s no problem.

    Whether it’s her interviews or her work, Carvajal’s vulnerability comes across effortlessly. And yet, she also understands that for many of us, vulnerability is a challenge in these modern times. But if she’s learned anything over the past two years, it’s that in order to make space for love, work, or anything else, we first have to make space for ourselves, make space for ourselves in our “PALACIO.”

    “PALACIO” drops on August 30th.

    Miguel Machado is a journalist with expertise in the intersection of Latine identity and culture. He does everything from exclusive interviews with Latin music artists to opinion pieces on issues that are relevant to the community, personal essays tied to his Latinidad, and thought pieces and features relating to Puerto Rico and Puerto Rican culture.

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    Miguel Machado

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  • Tell Me Más: Moffa Shares How Being Adopted Has Influenced His Identity and His Music

    Tell Me Más: Moffa Shares How Being Adopted Has Influenced His Identity and His Music

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    In our Q&A /feature series Tell Me Más, we ask some of our favorite Latine celebs to share some inside info about their lives and some of the ways they are prioritizing their mental health. This month, we spoke with reggaetón artist Moffa on how being adopted by his Puerto Rican parents impacted his music, identity and the way he navigates the world.

    It’s impossible to talk about rising acts of reggaetón in 2024 without mentioning Moffa. The 22-year-old Puerto Rican artist has seen his star power grow at lightspeed over the last two years. In 2022, he was one of the lucky three young acts — along with Alejo and Jotaerre — who teamed up with megastar Karol G on the hit song “Un Viaje,” where he was personally flown out to Colombia to work on the track. Since then, he’s been dropping music nonstop with bangers like “Bentley Remix,” “Sussy,” “DAMMN,” and “0 Millas,” all surpassing millions in combined streams. His versatile flow and catchy lyricism have made other artists flock to him as well, from established stars like Manuel Turizo and paopao to O.G.s like Ñengo Flow.

    On July 18th, Moffa’s debut album finally made its debut. Titled “Playground,” the project reflects his unbridled enthusiasm and curiosity. As he puts it: “Even as an adult, I still feel like a child in lots of ways,” which in part inspired the LP’s name. Not only are the feelings and experiences he explores over its tracks his own personal playground of emotions, but as an artist, so is the variety of sounds he experiments with. The recording studio, and life itself are both his playground.

    For a long time, Moffa has been a person who keeps his cards close to his chest, never delving too much into his personal life. While he’s hinted in the past at his roots, he’s never spoken out about his backstory in great detail.

    Though born and raised in Puerto Rico, he is, in fact, adopted. Moffa is the Afro-Latino son of a Brazilian mother and Dominican father. His mother tragically passed away when he was still an infant, and he and his twin sister were taken in by his Puerto Rican godparents, whom he now considers his parents in full.

    In an exclusive chat with PS, Moffa talks about what it felt like to learn he was adopted, the struggle to reconcile with family members from his biological parent’s side, if he’s ever questioned his identity, how he taps into his roots, and more.

    The following quotes have been translated, edited, and condensed for clarity.

    PS: Where were you born and raised?

    Moffa: I was born in Puerto Rico, in Bayamón. I was raised in the metro area, but I traveled a lot to Isabela and Aguada because my family was from there, from the west side [of the island.] We’d go every weekend or every other weekend, so that’s why I feel I was raised on both sides.

    PS: When did you find out you and your sister were adopted?

    Moffa: I’ve known since I was little. My biological mother passed away when I was nine months old, from cancer, and I never met my biological father. And so, once she passed, [my godparents] adopted us and became my parents.They were friends with my mom since they were kids. They were all friends together. It wasn’t something that was hidden from us, thank God. They let us know that, yeah, we’re adopted. And people would’ve asked us anyway once they saw my mom and dad because we’re not the same color at all [laughs]. It would be very hard to convince anyone they’re my biological parents.

    PS: You said you became aware you were adopted from an early age. How would you describe the way you and your sister were raised by your parents; did they make sure this knowledge never weighed on you or affected you?

    Moffa: I think they were always transparent and never hid anything from us, at all. They were always straightforward about our background and history — our roots. And if we ever wanted to travel to those places and get to know them, they would support us and in fact encourage us to explore all the corners and spaces of our family that we didn’t know.

    PS: I know children can be cruel; were you ever bullied as a child because you looked different from your parents? How did you manage that, if so?

    Moffa: I wasn’t bullied, actually. Here in Puerto Rico, I feel like that kind of discrimination exists, but it’s not as strong these days. I think we should all be aware we’re all the same. I’m not and never will be different just because I’m adopted or have a different family.

    PS: Do you know anything about your biological parent’s family now? Have you had any contact or interaction with them? If so, how does it make you feel?

    Moffa: To this day, my family from Brazil has always kept an eye on me. They write to me over DMs sometimes, but it’s hard to communicate because I don’t speak [Portuguese,] so I’m using [translator apps] to write them back.

    I haven’t mentioned this publicly before, but a few days ago, my biological father actually ‘liked’ one of my social media posts. And it was, like, “Oh shit” because I’ve never met him. […] I’ve heard I might have seven siblings on my father’s side. It’s a difficult situation. You don’t want to look down on that person because you [exist] because of them. But since there’s no relationship there — no affection, no love — then you don’t know how to react or what to do. [They say] “We’re here if you need anything,” but the feeling isn’t there. It’s strange.

    PS: Do you have any curiosity about meeting them or any of your extended family members from that side?

    Moffa: Ehhh… for me, you’re really focused on your own things, y’know? You discover all this stuff, which thankfully was revealed to me when I was much younger. But I haven’t had that curiosity because you sort of feel like you’re cheating on your present family — people who dedicated their lives to me, who gave me a roof over my head. I don’t have a problem meeting [them,] that would be actually cool, but my family also deserves some respect.

    PS: When it comes to your identity, what kind of conversations have you had with other people or with yourself, for that matter? Now that you’re older, is that something you’ve grappled with?

    Moffa: Unfortunately, I don’t know a lot about Brazilian culture. I do know a bit about the history, but I’ve never visited to get to know the country fully. Neither the Dominican Republic nor Brazil. But to me, I am Puerto Rican, just with Brazilian and Dominican blood. I have a ton of family in Brazil, but I’m clear about my identity.

    PS: The last few years have heated up the conversation around cultural appropriation, even amongst Hispanics and Latinos, and whether they can make songs in genres that are historically and culturally associated with specific countries. You’re in a unique spot where you kind of have a hall pass for multiple genres. Have you ever considered doing a Brazilian funk or Dominican dembow?

    Moffa: Last year, I came out with my first Brazilian funk, produced by Young Martino and Hokage. It’s called “TOKO,” and I remember thinking exactly that. Like, “Can I really do this? Am I allowed?” I never felt like, “Oh, this is my birthright, and I must do it,” y’know? I wanted to experiment with it, and I love that sound. I can’t wait to go to one of their carnivals. I think that’s one of my biggest goals, to be able to go to a carnival in Brazil. It’s not just one of Brazil’s most popular events, but it’s famous worldwide, too.

    PS: Since your parents knew your mother for so long, I’m sure they’ve talked to you about her. Is there anything about her personality you think you have? Have you thought about how your life might have been different if she’d raised you?

    Moffa: From what I’ve been told, if she were still here, I probably wouldn’t [have the success] I have now in music. Both because of resources available [to her,] but also her character. I probably wouldn’t be in music. I probably would have been raised to be more studious and work in something more “proper” like a doctor or engineer. I’m sure I could’ve followed my dreams, but I think it would’ve been more difficult.
    And also, she looked way more like my sister, [laughs]

    PS: There still seems to be a stigma or shock when people find out a person is adopted, in part because of this dated societal idea that “ideal” families conceive their children. I don’t agree with that; in my own case, my dad wasn’t my biological father, but he was my dad all the same. What would you tell people who find out they’re adopted — or anyone who, for any reason, feels like an “other” in their group?

    Moffa: Don’t pity yourself or feel different. You’re a normal person just like all the other people who achieved their dreams, and you can do the same thing. Sometimes, these things will come up in life, in your personal life, at work, or in conversation with people close to you, but you just have to engage with it head-on. Don’t feel bad about it. Be yourself, follow your dreams, and live your life as it’s happening. Don’t pretend it’s not real, of course, because it’s a part of you. But don’t hide it. Be proud of it, even. Don’t run from it.

    I’m happy and proud of where I came from. I don’t think being adopted puts me in a fence or anything. I’m a normal person, just like any other guy… I can do anything I want if I put my mind to it.

    PS: What have you learned about mental health that you apply today — not necessarily in regards to your identity, but even within your career? How do you manage anxiety and things of that nature? What advice have you received?

    Moffa: In this fast-moving industry, you have to stay grounded above all and be aware of your station in life. You [have to] be patient about what’s happening around you and not rush yourself. At times, I find myself asking thousands of questions in my head, but then I have to stop and center myself and my thoughts, and ease up. Sometimes, you simply have to shed tears to release all that anger or anxiety that we feel when faced with adversity in this world where there are many ups and downs. It helps to get it all out and not let emotions get the best of you.

    Juan J. Arroyo is a Puerto Rican freelance music journalist. Since 2018, he’s written for PS, Remezcla, Rolling Stone, and Pitchfork. His focus is on expanding the canvas of Latin stories and making Latin culture — especially Caribbean Latin culture — more visible in the mainstream.

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    Juan Arroyo

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  • Tell Me Más: Bodine Talks New Album “Quemo Lento” and Growing From Hardships

    Tell Me Más: Bodine Talks New Album “Quemo Lento” and Growing From Hardships

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    In the music video for her piano-driven interlude “Bambi,” Bodine poses in the middle of a dense forest, artistically garbed in assorted animal bones as she croons over the black and white footage with an ear-catching voice that straddles mezzo and alto ranges. The visual doubled as an announcement video for her sophomore EP, “Quemo Lento,” which dropped last month. Still, if anyone got the impression the project would hinge on somber instrumentals, her other tracks quickly proved them wrong. The follow-up singles “No Me Quiere Más Na’” and “Nalgaje” present a saucier and more liberated version of Bodine. But who is the real Bodine? Is it the contemplative, artsy soul hinted at in the first track, or the one who takes pride in homaging vedette Iris Chacón and singing catchy odes to booties? The answer is unsurprising to those who know her — she’s both.

    Born in Amsterdam, Bodine Koehler Peña and her family relocated to Puerto Rico when she was 8, and that’s where she spent her formative years. After a brief stint in a Catholic elementary school in Old San Juan, she enrolled in the Escuela Especializada en Ballet Julián E. Blanco. The institution offered an opportunity to learn both traditional courses and dance.

    “We trained from 7:30 in the morning until 11:30, and then took a shower, [ate] lunch, and had academics until 5,” she says. Bodine doesn’t hesitate to refer to herself as having been a “wild child” during her early teenage years, spurring her mother into finding another outlet for all that energy.

    “I never followed rules,” she says, slyly grinning. “And my mom was like, ‘Wow, I have to find things for her to do, to really keep her off the street.’ I was making too many friends too fast.”

    Her solution wasn’t far away: an old piano they had in the house often grabbed Bodine’s attention. “I would always sit down and play some disparates,” she laughs. Noting her interest in music, her mother got her formal piano classes at San Juan’s Department of Art and Culture. Soon after, her grandfather helped cover the costs of enrolling her at the Puerto Rico Conservatory of Music, where she eventually took courses in piano, songwriting, and opera singing.

    During this time, Bodine gained what she today calls a “survival instinct” that she’s harbored ever since. Her family relied primarily on public transportation, but the surplus of classes she was taking meant her days ended late. She and her mother would walk dimly lit streets and bridge underpasses to bus stops, often paying with coins they had scrounged up. Far from the façade of the carefree, impossibly beautiful model that came later, Bodine looks back at those days as tinged with uncertainty and worry. To hear her tell it, her ambitions were born from a desire to protect her family, whom she saw was sacrificing so much for her.

    “It was a necessity. The way it came to me, it was not even me really looking for it,” Bodine says. “I was just like, ‘I have to take care of my mom.’”

    Her most significant break came at the young age of 13 and resulted from a spur-of-the-moment decision. As she tells it, on an inspired whim, she walked into the Calle Loíza offices of notable Puerto Rican fashion designer Harry Robles and declared herself his next model. Her spunkiness and confidence impressed Robles, and the very next day, she had the gig. This was the first step on the path that led to her becoming Miss Puerto Rico and participating in Miss Universe 2012 in front of millions.

    While she tries not to dwell on her years as the reigning Miss Puerto Rico and her experiences afterward as a budding model in New York City, especially in light of the more upbeat and optimistic flavor of “Quemo Lento,” she shares that that phase of her career created an arc that has molded her into who she is today. She’s proud of the work, but readily admits she took the opportunity because of its benefits.

    “The reason I got in there was they told me, ‘Hey, you will get some money. You will get a car.’ And I needed [to pay for] school, I needed a car, I needed to buy books, I needed to help my family,” she says. What came after her participation in Miss Universe was another deck of cards, one that didn’t turn out in her favor. According to Bodine, these days, women who are successful in pageants go on to appear in TV shows or receive greater opportunities for their careers. But in her time, she says, “it wasn’t like that.”

    “I had to provide for my family, for myself, and so I had to leave and hustle.”

    She continues: “You finish, and then you’re like, ‘I need work, I need an income.’ So I had to go get that. I had to provide for my family, for myself, and so I had to leave and hustle.”

    Bodine doesn’t water down the disillusion she felt. “It was a lot. I had a lot of people around me [those days]. I had a lot of ‘friends’ around me. And the truth is I was 17, 18, 19 when all this happened,” she says. When she returned to fending for herself, reality became a cold splash in her face. “That’s when you know who your friends really are. I had no support. All my ‘friends’ were not my friends. And that gets really lonely. That was lonely, and very disappointing, and very heartbreaking.”

    The sometimes toxic negativity from the press and public that threatened to overshadow her reign was also disheartening. These days, she tackles it in a more holistic manner despite agreeing that the media’s hyper-focus on “messy” celebrities tends to be cruel.

    “It is cruel. And I think I just knew that it was part of the process. When you’re in the public eye, you need to understand that you just need to really be passionate about what you want in your life and speak to that, because no matter what, there’s always going to be negativity,” she says. “There’s always going to be people who try to push you down.”

    Even back then, Bodine was aware of the particular vitriol reserved for women, especially young women, who were scrutinized more than the average person and were given less leeway and grace to make mistakes. She’s thankful she got through it, and more so that there is accountability now that didn’t exist back then.

    “I think all women were in a situation where they were completely vulnerable. And hey, bad timing, I guess. I think today not everybody can say whatever they want about particular women,” she says. “Back then — this is before the #MeToo movement — you could say anything and everything. And I’m sure a lot of girls experienced that, not only in my world but in [other industries].”

    Her post-Miss stint as a model was also rocky and uphill at the start, owing to that same lack of support. “I didn’t know anybody. I had no agency. I applied [and] everyone said no to me. I applied to more than 20 agencies, from the most deep dungeon ones to the top. And they all said no,” she says.

    The situation became so dire it began to resemble an absurdist comedy at one point. “I remember I was so stressed that I had so much acne all over. I was so stressed I literally grew a beard,” she laughs. “I was so desperate for work that I went to the booker, and I’m like, ‘Listen to me. I need a job. I need to get booked. I’ll do anything. I could do [a] Proactiv campaign. I can do anything, I can do even Gillette.’”

    As fate would have it, she did eventually get signed, and steady work began to arrive. Still, the phantoms of her past and her survival instinct never went away. Twelve years and two albums later, Bodine looks back on what has led her to today with a mix of gratitude and melancholy. “Celos,” her underrated first EP, was imbued with a darker sound, even when it was trying to be a joint that could still pass as sensual and club-worthy. The reason for that is clear in hindsight.

    “It was a time I was really depressed,” she shares. “I was about to . . . stop being in the industry.” She ran into the same roadblocks that had pestered her for over a decade since her pageant days. Namely, people trying to box her into a persona that was nowhere close to who she felt she was. It’s a big reason she’s maintained being an independent artist so far.

    “I didn’t submit [to industry pressure],” she says. “So that project was born from a place of restarting all over.”

    She’s still striving to grow as an artist, and just as oysters create pearls from irritants that invade their system, Bodine sees everything she went through as a process that has made her more formidable than ever as a woman and a creative. She credits meditation as one of the most significant tools that helped her harness her experiences positively, saying she took it up early in her career because “there was a lot of waiting time” to indulge in it. But she also says she feels thankful for her art when it comes to shooting down any criticism or negativity.

    “I feel protected by music. I think that music, my work, will always talk for me,” she says. “Quemo Lento,” with its varied offering of genres and eclectic guest artists, tells the world that she’s feeling much more optimistic.

    “I’m in a good place — happy and really proud, and finally doing what I’ve actually wanted to do my whole life. I wish I were here before, but I just know it wasn’t my time yet,” she says. “I had to go through this whole thing to help my family and change my circumstances. And it was tough, but we’re here now.”

    It might’ve been a slow burn, but she’s made it and is ready for what’s next.

    Juan J. Arroyo is a Puerto Rican freelance music journalist. Since 2018, he’s written for PS, Remezcla, Rolling Stone, and Pitchfork. His focus is on expanding the canvas of Latin stories and making Latin culture — especially Caribbean Latin culture — more visible in the mainstream.

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    Juan Arroyo

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  • Tell Me Más: Alex Ferreira Talks Fatherhood, New Music, and the Importance of Making Music With Passion

    Tell Me Más: Alex Ferreira Talks Fatherhood, New Music, and the Importance of Making Music With Passion

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    In our Q&A /feature series Tell Me Más, we ask some of our favorite Latine artists to share some inside info about their lives and habits, revealing everything from their most recent read to the songs that get them hyped. This month, we trekked out to Joe’s Pub in the historic East Village to see Grammy-nominated singer-songwriter Alex Ferreira take the stage and chatted with him about his latest project, fatherhood, and how he’s balancing the two.

    Alex Ferreira’s dressing room at Joe’s Pub is small and sparse, without much in the way of personal belongings or even instruments. There’s a guitar case to one side, a knapsack nearby on a leather chair, and the singer himself sitting sideways in front of the lighted vanity — his trademark curls falling in front of his face. It’s a stripped environment, a fitting one given that later in the evening Ferreira will hit the stage with just a guitar and a soundboard and take the crowd on a full spectrum journey of love, heartbreak, and everything in between. But right now, he’s smiling, seemingly in his element: in a back room, in a big city, while on the road.

    “I love touring. I love going to different countries, meeting different people. It’s such an inspiration for me,” the artist tells PS.

    As a completely independent artist, Ferreira understands that he’s incredibly fortunate to be able to live off his music. But that often comes with long stretches far away from home, so it’s good that he loves to tour. This current tour has seen him on the go since last year. He’s performed all over Spain and has upcoming stops in Mexico. His two-night stint in New York caps the US section that had him in Miami and Puerto Rico. However, having recently become a father, Ferreira admits that he doesn’t have much time to hang out in these places like he once did.

    “I want to be with my daughter. I feel like this is a very important time in her life, her first year . . . the responsibility I have as a father is much greater than that of my artistic life,” he says.

    This is especially true since, in his artistic life, Ferreira is pretty well-established. Having made waves since 2010 with a singer-songwriter style that incorporates a healthy dose of experimentation and genre-bending, he knows who he is as an artist. And his fans do too.

    Later on in the night, the crowd will swell in unison, singing along with the crooner in such a natural way that it seems rehearsed. That’s the kind of musician Ferreira is known for. It’s music that can make the room small. He’s cracking jokes one minute and, the next, singing with such vulnerability that it’s hard not to be moved.

    Yet, at home, he is still adjusting to his role as a father.

    “Everything is new. Every stage of the process brings a new challenge. Every stage is a learning process and there’s no manual, no university to tell you these things. You learn on the fly,” Ferreira muses.

    One such challenge? Finding the time to write and work on his upcoming album while being a full-time dad.

    “Before, I could — and I hate this word but — I could procrastinate a little. Now I can’t,” he says. “If I have one hour to work, I can’t waste time. So now my creative process is much more efficient.”

    He now views composing, like going to the gym. To get it done he needs a little bit of consistency, dedicating a few hours out of the day to play, write, and practice before he can put pen to paper and come up with a song.

    But that doesn’t mean that making music has become just another exercise for the veteran artist. Talking about his upcoming project, “Versiones Para El Tiempo Y La Distancia Vol. 2,” Ferreira shares that he wants to continue to refine the sound he’s been crafting over the last decade while also experimenting further with blending elements of rock, bachata, and other genres into a unique experience. We can expect more of this from his upcoming album.

    “In a similar way to how fatherhood is a process of change, I think my career and my discography can also be seen in that light. I like to have a little doubt, to not know what I’m going to do,” he says.”I’ve also realized that my fans don’t come with that prejudice of, ‘Oh, he’s a singer-songwriter, everything is going to sound the same.’ The people who come to see me know that I’m not committed to any one genre. The common denominator is my voice. My lyrics.”

    Ferreira possesses an uncanny ability to peer into the connections we all share and transpose them into poetry. In “Me La Saludan” he uses sarcasm to express the weight of wounds that have yet to heal. On his new track, “De Verdad” he pleads for love in all its complexity. Love “as a decision,” the artist muses.

    The official version of the song is a jazzy, upbeat fusion. But on stage, in Joe’s Pub’s small theater, Ferreira turns it into a touching, acoustic ode to the long run — a relationship measured not in days or months, but in the moments that make up a life together. Even if you’ve listened to his music for years, hearing him perform live is an experience. His voice takes on a quality that doesn’t translate through speakers, it’s more vulnerable, more dimensional, and able to not only touch but bring the audience closer.

    It’s this ability to tap into emotion, to expose life’s raw nerves with tenderness, while at the same time cracking jokes on stage, that has led to Ferreira’s enduring success and relevance, even as the industry experiences an indie boom. Silvana Estrada, Daniél, Me Estás Matando, Guitarricadelafuente — these are today’s Latin music indie darlings. Ferreira has worked with many of them. The members of Daniél, Me Estás Matando were a part of his band at one point. But when asked about his role or standing in the current scene, Ferreira, despite his legacy and achievements, maintains his humility.

    “I’ve never thought of it in terms of a role . . . for me [Latin music] is like a chain and I think that I’m just another link in that chain,” he says.”I think it’s so cool that this music can connect with not just first-gen Latinos, but second and third-gen as well, Latinos that don’t even speak Spanish, people that don’t even speak Spanish. For me, it’s a pleasure to be a part of that, like a little grain of sand.”

    It gives Ferreira joy seeing his friends and the artists that have come after him find so much success. But he is also wary of the direction of the industry as a whole with everything moving towards songs created in minutes to achieve virality rather than expression.

    That’s not to say that he’s anti-electronic. Ferreira has often added electronic elements to his music and is a fan of experimentally-minded artists like James Blake and Bjork. He’s more concerned about the use of things like autotune and AI as a shortcut to artistry rather than as a means to enhance it.

    “When everything starts to sound the same, when the beats are all the same, with the same musical structure, with the same effects, and the same melody, I feel like that’s when the machine wins,” he says.

    But until then, he has faith in the process of making “imperfect art” and has some sage advice for those looking to make it in music in the current climate.

    “Everyone always wants more than they have. Don’t fall into that dynamic. Make music because it’s your passion, because you love it, [and] because you can’t live without it. Because, as a business model, there are better ones out there,” Ferreira says with a wink and a smile.

    Read on to find out about Ferreira’s morning ritual, who his favorite artist of the moment is, and his secret to finding peace.

    PS: What is your morning ritual?

    Ferreira: Coffee and music. If I don’t have my coffee I’ll have a stroke.

    PS: If you had to choose just one place to spend the rest of your days, where would it be?

    Ferreira: Madrid

    PS: Who is your favorite artist at the moment?

    Ferreira: Adrianne Lenker.

    PS: You have a song called “Sonrisa Valiente.” Who in your life would you say has the most valiant smile?

    Ferreira: My daughter.

    PS: What’s your method for finding peace?

    Ferreira: Music. Singing it, playing it, listening to it, whatever it happens to be, is therapeutic for me.

    PS: The best part of being a father?

    Ferreira: Connecting with my inner child again. Tapping into that childishness that we lose in life.

    [ad_2]

    Miguel Machado

    Source link

  • Tell Me Más: Grammy-Winning Goyo’s Rise to Fame Has Been a Win For Afro-Latine Artists

    Tell Me Más: Grammy-Winning Goyo’s Rise to Fame Has Been a Win For Afro-Latine Artists

    [ad_1]

    In our Q&A /feature series Tell Me Más, we ask some of our favorite Latine artists to share some inside info about their lives and habits, revealing everything from their most recent read to the songs that get them hyped. This month, Grammy-winning artist Goyo, a member of legendary group ChocQuibTown, drops in to talk about her latest turn as a solo act, Afro-Latine representation, and what she’s got in store for us in 2024.

    As reggaetón, afrobeats, and trap become global, their distinct sounds and formulas become more cemented. However, rapper and singer Goyo has always defied the confines of a single genre. As a member of the award-winning group ChocQuibTown, the sound that she helped craft along with her brother Miguel “Slow” Martinez and Carlos “Tostao” Valencia, combined elements of traditional African percussion, Colombian folk, hip-hop, dancehall, and reggaetón. Now, as she continues her musical journey, this time as a solo artist, Goyo still finds it difficult to put a label on exactly what her sound is.

    “The truth is that it’s difficult for me to classify myself as one single thing . . . I can easily do a song that’s straight hip-hop or a song that’s straight folkloric. It’s part of what I am,” says the artist.

    When she first arrived on the scene, it was just as difficult for the industry to classify her and her fellow group members. They won their first Grammy under the rock/alternative category for the song “De Donde Vengo Yo,” as there was no urbano category at that time. But since that time, the genre has exploded allowing young artists from barrios across the globe to chase their dreams and allowing female emcees to show what they are capable of.

    Yet, despite this influx of new talent, there is a fluidity and maturity to Goyo’s sound that immediately sets her apart.

    “Within the urbano movement, hip hop, rapping, singing, that’s where I feel most comfortable,” she tells POPSUGAR.

    For long-time fans of ChocQuibTown, this should come as no surprise, as Goyo’s talent for melodic hooks and precise lyricism has been evident since ChocQuibTown’s debut album “Somos Pacifico” in 2006. However, now that the spotlight is solely focused on her, she’s able to fully embrace her versatility, crafting songs and exploring concepts that highlight a more personal journey.

    “With ChocQuibTown, what we wanted to do was put Chocó on the map, to vindicate our culture, and in some way say that ‘hey, we’re here.’ We’re representing our hood.”

    “With ChocQuibTown, what we wanted to do was put Chocó on the map, to vindicate our culture, and in some way say that ‘hey, we’re here.’ We’re representing our hood,” Goyo shares. “The difference now [as a soloist] is the experience, everything that I’ve lived, showing everything that I am as a versatile woman.”

    It’s a journey that has many parallels with a certain hip-hop legend and one of Goyo’s idols: Ms. Lauryn Hill. Both were the sole female members of powerhouse rap groups. Both burst onto the scene to immediate acclaim and not only could harmonize and provide R&B elements to compliment their male group members’ raps, but they were also powerhouse spitters in their own right. The similarities aren’t lost on Goyo as she admits to looking to Ms. Hill, not only as a source of inspiration but a teacher of sorts, helping her build confidence as a young emcee.

    “For me, she’s a teacher in the way that [listening to her music] was able to rid me of a lot of fear and allow me to be myself when it came time to write [my verses],” Goyo says.

    Along with Hill, Goyo mentions Foxy Brown, and Rah Digga as major influences. On the Latin side of things, artists like Tego Calderon, Celia Cruz, and Grupo Niche have all had a tremendous impact on her.

    “I grew up surrounded by music, my mother and my aunts always singing in the house. So while I was growing up influences would always come to me from all different sides,” she recalls.

    These different sides were something she got to showcase in the HBO special, “En Letra de Otro,” where she put her spin on classic songs like Don Omar’s “Otra Noche” and Tito Puente’s “Oye Como Va.” But don’t get it twisted, these weren’t just Goyo’s interpretations of classics. She truly made them her own, rearranging them with completely original lyrics and beats.

    Now, she’s ready to follow up that project with a new album of all original tracks. And if the first two singles are anything to go by, Goyo is using the deep waters of the urbano genre as her playground.

    “Tumbao” gives reggaetón de la vieja vibes with its simple dembow and traditional percussion elements. Insomnia on the other hand is a complete 180. Produced by hip-hop producer IllMind, it starts with a heavy rock riff before leading into some snappy snare drums and driving a Jersey-style bassline over which Goyo flows between a melodic chorus and more pointed raps with ease.

    “Within the creative process, it’s important to have a concept, a beginning, and an end,” she says.”But in rap, sometimes you’ll have a punchline that doesn’t have anything to do with the concept but you can make it connect with the next verse. It’s a beautiful game and it’s the thing I most enjoy, that it’s not rigid. That I can start a song melodically and when I get bored, switch to rapping.”

    But despite the growth that she’s undergone and despite her career entering a new chapter, Goyo affirms that she’s still the Goyo her fans were introduced to back in 2006. And as an Afro-Colombiana in a genre that, despite its Afro-Latine origins, has become increasingly whitened, she understands that the representation that she’s championed ever since her ensemble days is just as important now as it was in the earlier days of her career.

    “I think that the process [by which Afro-Latines find success] is a process that takes time, that maybe in my generation, I won’t see as many changes as the next generation will, but [the work is being done],” she says.”And the important thing is that we are conscious of that work . . . that we understand where we come from and take beauty from that … so that we can keep advancing and make the load lighter for [future generations].”

    When it comes to lightening the load, Goyo has played a significant role since stepping onto the world stage. Not only did she help put the historically Black neighborhood of Chocó on the map, but her continued success helped to make room and provide a blueprint for the next generation of Afro-Latine artists, showing them that commercial and critical success is possible while still staying true to your sound and where you come from.

    Yet, for an artist who has already achieved so much and stands as an inspiration to her people, Goyo wants her fans to know that she’s still got more to achieve at this stage of her career and is looking forward to bringing them along for the ride.

    “We’re putting a lot of love into the album, “La Pantera,” and I hope that the fans like it and connect with [it] . . . ,” she says. “Something I’ve always wanted to achieve is to have a solo album — to perform, to tour as a soloist and reconnect with the fans who have followed us and also to find along this new route more people to accompany me in the process. Now, I’m able to materialize that dream.”

    Now that we’ve got you hyped for Goyo’s upcoming project, keep reading to get the deets on who she’d like to collaborate with, what she’d be doing if she wasn’t rapping, and what she does cuando la insomnia se la pega.

    POPSUGAR: Where is your happy place?

    Goyo: Wherever my family is.

    POPSUGAR: What song would you play to get the party started?

    Goyo: Blessings (Remix) by Victor Thompson.

    POPSUGAR: What do you do when you can’t sleep?

    Goyo: Write. Read.

    POPSUGAR: Who’s your most listened to artist right now?

    Goyo: Fridayy. I’m crazy about Fridayy

    POPSUGAR: Which artists would you like to collaborate with in the future?

    Goyo: Don Omar. Tego Calderon. And Eladio. He goes super hard.

    POPSUGAR: If it wasn’t music, what passion would you dedicate yourself to?

    Goyo: Writing.

    POPSUGAR: What was the best thing about being in a music group?

    Goyo: Being the only woman.

    POPSUGAR: What was the most difficult thing?

    Goyo: Being the only woman.

    POPSUGAR: Finally, how would you define the word “Tumbao”?

    Goyo: Tumbao is that special something that I have and that you have but is different for everyone.

    [ad_2]

    Miguel Machado

    Source link

  • Tell Me Más: Grammy-Winning Goyo’s Rise to Fame Has Been a Win For Afro-Latine Artists – POPSUGAR Australia

    Tell Me Más: Grammy-Winning Goyo’s Rise to Fame Has Been a Win For Afro-Latine Artists – POPSUGAR Australia

    [ad_1]

    In our Q&A /feature series Tell Me Más, we ask some of our favorite Latine artists to share some inside info about their lives and habits, revealing everything from their most recent read to the songs that get them hyped. This month, Grammy-winning artist Goyo, a member of legendary group ChocQuibTown, drops in to talk about her latest turn as a solo act, Afro-Latine representation, and what she’s got in store for us in 2024.

    As reggaetón, afrobeats, and trap become global, their distinct sounds and formulas become more cemented. However, rapper and singer Goyo has always defied the confines of a single genre. As a member of the award-winning group ChocQuibTown, the sound that she helped craft along with her brother Miguel “Slow” Martinez and Carlos “Tostao” Valencia, combined elements of traditional African percussion, Colombian folk, hip-hop, dancehall, and reggaetón. Now, as she continues her musical journey, this time as a solo artist, Goyo still finds it difficult to put a label on exactly what her sound is.

    “The truth is that it’s difficult for me to classify myself as one single thing . . . I can easily do a song that’s straight hip-hop or a song that’s straight folkloric. It’s part of what I am,” says the artist.

    Related: Prince Royce Talks Life After Divorce and How It Inspired His New Album, “Llamada Perdida”

    When she first arrived on the scene, it was just as difficult for the industry to classify her and her fellow group members. They won their first Grammy under the rock/alternative category for the song “De Donde Vengo Yo,” as there was no urbano category at that time. But since that time, the genre has exploded allowing young artists from barrios across the globe to chase their dreams and allowing female emcees to show what they are capable of.

    Yet, despite this influx of new talent, there is a fluidity and maturity to Goyo’s sound that immediately sets her apart.

    “Within the urbano movement, hip hop, rapping, singing, that’s where I feel most comfortable,” she tells POPSUGAR.

    For long-time fans of ChocQuibTown, this should come as no surprise, as Goyo’s talent for melodic hooks and precise lyricism has been evident since ChocQuibTown’s debut album “Somos Pacifico” in 2006. However, now that the spotlight is solely focused on her, she’s able to fully embrace her versatility, crafting songs and exploring concepts that highlight a more personal journey.

    “With ChocQuibTown, what we wanted to do was put Chocó on the map, to vindicate our culture, and in some way say that ‘hey, we’re here.’ We’re representing our hood.”

    “With ChocQuibTown, what we wanted to do was put Chocó on the map, to vindicate our culture, and in some way say that ‘hey, we’re here.’ We’re representing our hood,” Goyo shares. “The difference now [as a soloist] is the experience, everything that I’ve lived, showing everything that I am as a versatile woman.”

    It’s a journey that has many parallels with a certain hip-hop legend and one of Goyo’s idols: Ms. Lauryn Hill. Both were the sole female members of powerhouse rap groups. Both burst onto the scene to immediate acclaim and not only could harmonize and provide R&B elements to compliment their male group members’ raps, but they were also powerhouse spitters in their own right. The similarities aren’t lost on Goyo as she admits to looking to Ms. Hill, not only as a source of inspiration but a teacher of sorts, helping her build confidence as a young emcee.

    “For me, she’s a teacher in the way that [listening to her music] was able to rid me of a lot of fear and allow me to be myself when it came time to write [my verses],” Goyo says.

    Along with Hill, Goyo mentions Foxy Brown, and Rah Digga as major influences. On the Latin side of things, artists like Tego Calderon, Celia Cruz, and Grupo Niche have all had a tremendous impact on her.

    “I grew up surrounded by music, my mother and my aunts always singing in the house. So while I was growing up influences would always come to me from all different sides,” she recalls.

    These different sides were something she got to showcase in the HBO special, “En Letra de Otro,” where she put her spin on classic songs like Don Omar’s “Otra Noche” and Tito Puente’s “Oye Como Va.” But don’t get it twisted, these weren’t just Goyo’s interpretations of classics. She truly made them her own, rearranging them with completely original lyrics and beats.

    Now, she’s ready to follow up that project with a new album of all original tracks. And if the first two singles are anything to go by, Goyo is using the deep waters of the urbano genre as her playground.

    “Tumbao” gives reggaetón de la vieja vibes with its simple dembow and traditional percussion elements. Insomnia on the other hand is a complete 180. Produced by hip-hop producer IllMind, it starts with a heavy rock riff before leading into some snappy snare drums and driving a Jersey-style bassline over which Goyo flows between a melodic chorus and more pointed raps with ease.

    “Within the creative process, it’s important to have a concept, a beginning, and an end,” she says.”But in rap, sometimes you’ll have a punchline that doesn’t have anything to do with the concept but you can make it connect with the next verse. It’s a beautiful game and it’s the thing I most enjoy, that it’s not rigid. That I can start a song melodically and when I get bored, switch to rapping.”

    But despite the growth that she’s undergone and despite her career entering a new chapter, Goyo affirms that she’s still the Goyo her fans were introduced to back in 2006. And as an Afro-Colombiana in a genre that, despite its Afro-Latine origins, has become increasingly whitened, she understands that the representation that she’s championed ever since her ensemble days is just as important now as it was in the earlier days of her career.

    “I think that the process [by which Afro-Latines find success] is a process that takes time, that maybe in my generation, I won’t see as many changes as the next generation will, but [the work is being done],” she says.”And the important thing is that we are conscious of that work . . . that we understand where we come from and take beauty from that … so that we can keep advancing and make the load lighter for [future generations].”

    When it comes to lightening the load, Goyo has played a significant role since stepping onto the world stage. Not only did she help put the historically Black neighborhood of Chocó on the map, but her continued success helped to make room and provide a blueprint for the next generation of Afro-Latine artists, showing them that commercial and critical success is possible while still staying true to your sound and where you come from.

    Yet, for an artist who has already achieved so much and stands as an inspiration to her people, Goyo wants her fans to know that she’s still got more to achieve at this stage of her career and is looking forward to bringing them along for the ride.

    “We’re putting a lot of love into the album, “La Pantera,” and I hope that the fans like it and connect with [it] . . . ,” she says. “Something I’ve always wanted to achieve is to have a solo album – to perform, to tour as a soloist and reconnect with the fans who have followed us and also to find along this new route more people to accompany me in the process. Now, I’m able to materialize that dream.”

    Now that we’ve got you hyped for Goyo’s upcoming project, keep reading to get the deets on who she’d like to collaborate with, what she’d be doing if she wasn’t rapping, and what she does cuando la insomnia se la pega.

    POPSUGAR: Where is your happy place?

    Goyo: Wherever my family is.

    POPSUGAR: What song would you play to get the party started?

    Goyo: Blessings (Remix) by Victor Thompson.

    POPSUGAR: What do you do when you can’t sleep?

    Goyo: Write. Read.

    POPSUGAR: Who’s your most listened to artist right now?

    Goyo: Fridayy. I’m crazy about Fridayy

    POPSUGAR: Which artists would you like to collaborate with in the future?

    Goyo: Don Omar. Tego Calderon. And Eladio. He goes super hard.

    POPSUGAR: If it wasn’t music, what passion would you dedicate yourself to?

    Goyo: Writing.

    POPSUGAR: What was the best thing about being in a music group?

    Goyo: Being the only woman.

    POPSUGAR: What was the most difficult thing?

    Goyo: Being the only woman.

    POPSUGAR: Finally, how would you define the word “Tumbao”?

    Goyo: Tumbao is that special something that I have and that you have but is different for everyone.

    [ad_2]

    Miguel machado

    Source link

  • Tell Me Más: Neysa Blay’s Sobriety Journey Has Transformed Her as a Music Artist

    Tell Me Más: Neysa Blay’s Sobriety Journey Has Transformed Her as a Music Artist

    [ad_1]

    When indie rock musician Neysa Blay sat down to start writing songs for her new album, “Nada es Suficiente,” she found herself in an unusual predicament. She’d been sober for nearly a decade at that point, putting considerable distance between her turbulent past and the more placid present. “I’m really good at writing when there’s chaos and noise in my head, and when things are kind of bumpy,” she says. But now she’d overcome so many of her inner demons. “How do I learn how to write from a good place?”

    The LP, which drops in May, bridges the gap between her innate rebellious spirit and the more conscientious Blay that has emerged over the past few years. Previous singles, such as the softer “Te Gusta/Me Gusta” and no-nonsense “Quise Que Fueras Tú,” toggle between vulnerable and headstrong; she might be rough, but her heart is undoubtedly open. Her newest track, “Úsame,” channels 1980s hair metal in its sound and visuals. But to get to where she is now, the budding rock star had to survive a difficult road.

    Raised in the beach-friendly town of Cabo Rojo, Puerto Rico, Blay’s adolescence was marked by an inner tug-of-war between the love she has for her hometown and the constraints it imposed not just on her career, but on her as a person. As an openly gay woman who recognized her orientation very early on, she felt hampered by the societal mores of her surroundings.

    “That created a lot of angst because I didn’t understand why. I felt like a part of me had to pretend. The town all of a sudden would become too small for me,” she shares. As time passed and she grew into her teenage years, the colors of Cabo Rojo began to take on a different shade. “I remember [being] young, free, happy, fulfilled, and then I started growing up. [And a] sense of doom started falling in,” Blay adds.

    Her only respite then was music, which she began to explore between the ages of 8 and 10 after seeing students who were taking music classes out of an office space her father rented to a local music academy. From there she began to take guitar and singing lessons, which didn’t surprise her parents who noticed during her younger years that she had a knack for song.

    “[They] would play a lot of boleros, and I would love that music,” she recalls. “They’d hear me singing along and they’d be like: ‘There’s so much passion there. There’s so much emotion. You’re not a 40-year-old chasing a married man.’”

    As she grew older, the encroaching pressure of how she was expected to live her life was beginning to push her towards volatile spaces. As with many people who go down the same path, Blay found herself searching for ways to abate the anxieties that were overwhelming her. This led to what would become a years-long stretch of substance abuse that would nearly derail her relationship with her family, with partners, and her career dreams.

    For nearly seven years, Blay spiraled through a life almost entirely dominated by extreme drug and alcohol use. She moved to San Juan, where she found herself in circles that directly and indirectly encouraged her lifestyle. She would attempt to lean into her music but found herself unable to.

    “Because of my addiction, I wasn’t functional, so I couldn’t do gigs. I wouldn’t show up. I would miss a lot of opportunities,” she says. She admits to crafting unreasonable ideas about how to become a working artist — ideas spurred by the effects of her vices. “I had a very distorted idea of what [pursuing music] would look like. I thought I could be singing while pumping gas and somebody would discover me. I had a very romanticized fantasy vision of how you do this.”

    Eventually, she hit what she refers to as her “ultimate emotional bottom”.

    “I was very broken. I lost everything. I couldn’t keep a job . . . My parents had just kicked me out of the house, and they had stopped any financial help,” she says, adding how she had also just gone through a breakup as well.

    That Christmas she was invited over to her parent’s home, where she was given an option: enroll in a wilderness therapy program and try to overcome her addictions. As Blay tells it, she felt “beat” at this point in her life, and accepted, deciding she had nothing else to lose. “That was a Thursday. Saturday, I was flying out.”

    She recognizes what stage of the addiction cycle she was in at this time, and how difficult it was for her loved ones to get her there. “Dealing with an addict, it’s like you can’t save them, you can’t rescue them. But when the time is appropriate, you got to let them hit that bottom,” she reflects. “If you take a person that’s unwilling into treatment, [the help is] going to go in this way and out this way. You don’t want to get better, and you kind of have to want it for yourself.”

    Looking back, Blay credits wilderness therapy with saving her life. As opposed to rehab, which she says can sometimes be “cushy,” wilderness therapy is an outdoor program of intense activities for people suffering from behavioral disorders and substance abuse that include hiking, camping, and more, with the goal of “enhancing personal and interpersonal growth.”

    “They broke me and then built me back up,” she confesses. “When you go in they don’t tell you when you leave, which is different from treatment because when you go to treatment, you’re like, ‘I’m going to do 30 days,’ and you’re already one foot in, one foot out . . . Here [there’s] no future information. I don’t know when I’m getting out. I don’t know what we’re doing today. I don’t know where we’re hiking today. And that really helped release a sense of control of my life.”

    After three and half months, she was finally deemed ready to leave the program. From there, she spent another three months at a treatment center in Chicago, to underline the progress she had made. Eventually, the day came when she was told she could relocate to wherever she wanted. “I’m already thinking in my head, what do you really want to do? Music. Music has always been in the background. Music has always been the priority,” she says.

    She convinced her parents to trust her to move to Miami, despite it being as they called it, the “cocaine capital.” Initially living in a treatment center followed by a halfway house, Blay soon found herself in her own apartment, with a job, going back to school, and getting around with a scooter.

    “I was pretty much learning how to be a person; how to be a normal, functioning human being. And I think it was one of the greatest experiences,” she says.

    In 2017, she connected with Sam Allison, an engineer at the iconic Criteria Recording Studios, and recorded “Veneno,” her first official single. That song made its way to experienced producer Marthin Chan, who became a fan and produced her debut EP, “Destrúyeme.”

    Songwriting and working on her craft while sober opened up an entirely new world of possibilities for Blay, who says “All of a sudden I was able to finish things, and not stop because anxiety was too crippling.”

    Not too long ago, she chose to move back to Puerto Rico, settling back in Cabo Rojo. She jokingly referred to it as “returning to the scene of the crime.” But there were earnest reasons behind the decision as well. Her relationship with her parents had grown stronger and more accepting since they saw how much she’d grown in the last decade and even embraced her new partner as well.

    But for Blay, there was another, deeper reason: “I wanted to tackle the sense of not belonging, to tackle the feeling of, as a lesbian, I’m not welcomed and loved in the community. I wanted to tackle all of the negatives. I wanted to take that narrative, change it, and own it,” she says. “I wanted to create new memories. I came with a mission of reclaiming Cabo Rojo for myself.” Her first gig after moving back? Onstage at Cabo Rojo’s Pride celebration, with her father in attendance supporting her.

    Before that was a creative sojourn to Mexico City, where she teamed up with producer Felipe “Pipe” Ceballos and cooked up “Nada es Suficiente.” Making this album, years into sobriety, was a learning experience. She realized the way she accessed and channeled her emotions had changed considerably. Where she once wrote from a place of a chaotic mindset and “spitting fucking venom,” she now approached the same scenarios from a contemplative, self-reflective angle.

    “I think that’s been one of the biggest changes in sobriety in terms of creativity,” she says. “I’ve grown and I’m also allowing my songwriting to grow along with me on this journey of being a good person.”

    Juggling the responsibility of maintaining her sobriety while also working through the anxieties of being an independent artist, without the privilege of self-medicating, has led Blay to incorporate new tools she hopes to share with others. She’s a proponent of DBT, or dialectical behavioral techniques, which allow her to face anxiety in healthier ways.

    “There’s simple stuff like realizing when you’re anxious and how it’s manifesting, and taking ownership of it by self-soothing. Self-soothing can be taking a nice hot bath for 10 minutes. It can be some breathing exercises,” she shares. “And then there’s… radical acceptance, [which] is when you have to accept that things aren’t under your control. And I love the word radical. Because it is. It’s just, ‘Shut the fuck up. You’re not in control. You have to accept that this is the way that things are. You can either cope with it, accept them, or you can just spend the whole day trying to fight something you can’t.’”

    It’s a rule that sums up her journey so far—one that led her to emerge from darkness and now points her on the path toward making her longtime dreams a reality.

    “With time, what I have learned is that whenever I’m feeling anxious or fearful, that’s the direction I have to run towards. Right now in my life, I see the anxiety and I’m like, ‘Buckle up,” Blay says. “That’s where we got to go.’ Like, ‘Oh, this is terrifying. I have a lot of anxiety.’ Okay, keep fucking going. This is where you need to be.”

    POPSUGAR: First celebrity crush?

    Neysa Blay: Judy Garland in “The Wizard of Oz” 💖

    POPSUGAR: Favorite mocktail?

    Neysa Blay: Ginger beer, lime juice, mint leaves and soda water

    POPSUGAR: Favorite beach in Puerto Rico?

    Neysa Blay: Playa Buyé on a weekday at 9 a.m.

    POPSUGAR: Three artists you have on repeat right now?

    Neysa Blay: A very gay playlist: Charli XCX, Troye Sivan, and Slayyyter

    POPSUGAR: Favorite mantra?

    Neysa Blay: “If they can do it, so can I.”

    POPSUGAR: Favorite guitar?

    Neysa Blay: Gibson SG (played by Angus Young)

    POPSUGAR: Dream collaboration?

    Neysa Blay: Marilina Bertoldi



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    Juan Arroyo

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  • Tell Me Más: Lúconde Fuses Theater and Urbano in Her Debut Album

    Tell Me Más: Lúconde Fuses Theater and Urbano in Her Debut Album

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    Many popular musicians have created fictional alter egos as a way to explore new sonic avenues that they wish to experiment with. David Bowie had Ziggy Stardust and Aladdin Sane, David Johansen had Buster Poindexter, Lady Gaga spent a whole season as Jo Calderone, and the less said about Garth Brooks’s Chris Gaines era the better, but it certainly happened. For them, it’s a kind of performance art — an expression of their interest in stepping out of their comfort zone and giving the endeavor a theatrical flair as well.

    The debate about whether these could be considered merely publicity stunts is valid, but for some artists, there’s a true creative desire to inhabit these personas. For Adriana Rivera, a Puerto Rican singer-songwriter, it’s a culmination of her dream to merge two artistic outputs that have long fascinated and inspired her: music and acting. From this desire and its manifestation, Rivera set herself aside, and in her place emerged Lúconde and their debut album, “La Actriz: Acto I.” The EP is a magical collection of alt-perreo, conscious boleros, and progressive Latin soul. As Rivera explains, “Lúconde is basically the mother personality that serves as a vessel for other personas (or faces, as she calls them) to emerge.” For that reason, she invites listeners to call her by either name.

    Lúconde is an artist with lots of ideas, who has been searching a long time for a way to express them. A child of dancers from reggaeton’s early roots, when it was known as “underground” — her mother was a background dancer for Vico C, while her father danced for Ruben DJ — she grew up in a home that valued both music and performance and the overlap between the two. Lúconde was enrolled in ballet, where dance and expression are inextricably intertwined, and sang in her church’s chorus, where she began to discover her voice and test its limits and range.

    Not soon after, she was convinced by friends to audition for her school’s drama club. In a prescient twist, the monologue used for the audition belonged to a role about a character suffering from dissociative identity disorder.

    “I remember researching a lot. I remember practicing [the monologue] alone at home. I had no training whatsoever, but I remember clicking with that a lot,” she says. “There was a lot of that process that clicked with me very deeply, and I remember thinking, ‘OK, I love music and I’ve always been involved with music, but I think [acting] is going to be something that I’m gonna dedicate myself more to.’”

    For “La Actriz: Acto I,” Lúconde reached back and channeled the lessons from her days doing theater. She recalls being taken by the way acting helped her to connect with her inner thoughts and widen her view of the behaviors of people around her.

    “I learned [to] not take things at face value, which is something that I feel like I’m actively studying within myself and society — just looking at things from different perspectives,” she says. “There’s always more behind someone, which I also think in acting that’s what you [search for].”

    During the downtime that enveloped the world in 2020, she began to think about how she could fuse her interests. She began to write, thinking on topics that were close to her. She began to flesh out the overarching concept of the EP and conjured up what would become the roster of alter egos that embody each track: La Malasuerte, Näia Kiyomi, Lilu, Miss Quinn, Bo Aracnia, Adela, and Nina Sorei.

    Executing out such a far-out idea for a debut EP was a risky proposition, but she was determined to bring it to fruition. Through mutual contacts she got in touch with Gyanma, an indie fan favorite who produces projects for himself and others out of his own studio, called Alas. Whatever trepidation he had about the ambitious ideas she presented evaporated as soon as he put her in front of the microphone.

    “From the beginning, I recognized it was a very unique concept,” says Gyanma, who produced every track on the EP. “Throughout recording and producing the music, every track kept evolving, and when we listened to the final album put together, we knew it was something very, very special.”

    As a companion to the album, Lúconde produced, directed, and starred in music videos for the tracks. It’s here that her different personas can truly be appreciated. La Malasuerte, a trickster changeling that occupies every frame of “Macacoa” with mischievous intentions. Näia Kiyomi, heavily inspired by Jennifer Check of the movie “Jennifer’s Body,” enacts empowered, violent revenge in “6eis.” Lilu and Bo Aracnia both break the rules in favor of righteous anarchy in “Bendito Caos” and “Tus Cartas Póker,” respectively. In “El Frío del Alba,” Adela reflects on the long, sordid history and pain that women have carried throughout the struggle for bodily autonomy, especially in the face of eroding abortion rights.

    “This is very autobiographical. What I’m doing is just taking the Stanislavski technique of acting and transforming it into a philosophy of life, because that’s who I am,” she says. “I feel like acting saved me. Acting gave me so much perspective of life, of people, of society, and of myself. That’s kind of where it all starts, because with each character I’m showing different sides and different aspects of myself, and the actor studies the gray area of life, the gray in people.”

    When talking about her future, Lúconde foresees more projects in the same vein as “Acto I.” For now, she doesn’t see herself dabbling in more mainstream songs divorced from this album’s conceit. In fact, she’s already brainstorming which personas she’ll utilize again, and new ones to introduce as well. As the album’s title implies, it’s simply the first act of what will slowly unfold as a larger all-encompassing project.

    “This project is synonymous with where I am in life right now. I feel like I’m still in the midst of becoming. This project is a lot of the younger, naive aspects of myself,” she says.

    She intends to fully expand the visual side as well, founding her own production company where she’ll be able to control that aspect of development as well as help other artists with their own projects. “La Actriz: Acto I” was an effort that took a long time to come together, but for Lúconde it has been worth everything she invested in bringing it to life.

    “Once I knew that I wanted to be La Actriz in the music industry, I had a direction,” she says. “For me that’s really important; I’ve always [felt] like I have to have some idea of who I want to be. In that sense, now I realize how lucky I am to know who I am a little bit. I still feel like I have a long way to go, but I’ve always had the vision. I’ve always nourished that. I’ve always protected that.”

    The strands that link the light and shadow inside every human being — and the way they can bring people together under better understanding and empathy — are what Lúconde wishes to underscore.

    “Everything is connected: our spirituality, our physicality, our mind, our emotions. As an actor, my body, my mind, my emotions are my tools. The more familiar I am with myself, the better human I will be. That’s what I’m trying to explore with music. I always say, ‘Through my work I am whole,’ because I get to express all of these different aspects of myself.” It’s a passion project that not only makes her feel fulfilled, but hopefully finds fans who’ll also appreciate the different levels of creativity that make it up. “I felt like I wanted to be a creator, and I feel like music allowed me to do all that. And I realized I didn’t have to sacrifice my identity as an actress. Maybe I could just be La Actriz.”

    POPSUGAR: What is your favorite word?

    Lúconde: Curiosity.

    POPSUGAR: What is your favorite quote?

    Lúconde: “You don’t have a right to anything in this life, but there’s nothing you can’t achieve.”

    POPSUGAR: What is your favorite play?

    Lúconde: “No Exit” by Jean-Paul Sartre.

    POPSUGAR: What is your favorite movie?

    Lúconde: Well, I love “Black Swan.” It used to be “The Pursuit of Happyness.” I think now, “Everything Everywhere All at Once.”

    POPSUGAR: Who is your favorite fictional character?

    Lúconde: Raven from “Teen Titans.”

    POPSUGAR: What are you listening to these days?

    Lúconde: Gesaffelstein, Belén Aguilera, and “Scarlet” by Doja Cat.

    POPSUGAR: What person comes to mind when you hear the word “inspiration”?

    Lúconde: My grandfather. We were very close, and he would talk to me about many things. My favorite quote is something he’d always tell me.

    POPSUGAR: Do you prefer to be the hero or the villain?

    Lúconde: I prefer to be the villain that becomes a hero.

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    Juan Arroyo

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  • Tell Me Más: Gyanma Is Breaking All of Reggaetón’s Rules

    Tell Me Más: Gyanma Is Breaking All of Reggaetón’s Rules

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    Image Source: Joseph Rivera/Illustration by Aly Lim

    In our Q&A /feature series Tell Me Más, we ask some of our favorite Latine artists to answer the questions only their BFFs know about them, revealing everything from their most recent read to the songs that get them hyped. This month, indie rap wondercon Gyanma drops in and gives us his take on the current state of Puerto Rico’s music scene.

    In Puerto Rico, reggaetón is king. And while that fact has given multiple generations plenty of opportunities and anthems pa’ perrear, it’s also meant that alternative sounds, or even music that was reggaetón-adjacent, didn’t get much love outside of the underground. But today, even amidst a new trap wave and a resurgence of the old school-reggaetón sound, a new guard of up-and-coming emcees is shifting the paradigm on the island. They are fusing genres and making music that breaks from the established formula. Case and point: Gyanma, a tongue-in-cheek lyricist from Bayamón using his witty bars and R&B-soul style on a genre more closely associated with the streets.

    “Reggaetón specifically, that world is very much from the streets,” the 29-year-old emcee tells POPSUGAR in a mix of English and Spanish, both of which he is fluent in. “And a lot of times it’s like you have to be approved by the streets to make use of the international trampoline that Puerto Rico can be. But if you’re not, you’re what they call here ‘los loquitos.’”

    “Haciendo la música de los loquitos” or “making crazy people music” is a saying thrown around by purists in Puerto Rico to disparage genres and subgenres that fall outside of what has become a pretty stringent formula for making hit records over the past decade. But as artists like RaiNao, Tommy Blanco, and Pink Pablo continue to build followings and headline shows in historic neighborhoods like La Perla and Santurce — barrios where reggaetón legends like DJ Negro, Arcángel, De La Ghetto, and more cut their teeth —it is becoming clear that “los loquitos” are making an impact.

    “It’s trippy because now, the music of los loquitos is what a lot of mainstream artists are trying to emulate,” Gyanma says.”So [it just shows you that] sometimes you have to prove yourself in other ways and do the most to get the respect.”

    For the artist — whose real name Gyan Henriquez Rodriguez — proving himself meant leaving the island and starting from the ground up at Berklee College of Music in Boston.

    “Before going to Berklee, I wasn’t formally trained in music. I was very intuitive and could play by ear . . . but I was more of a songwriter. My voice was my instrument,” he shares.

    Gyanma grew up in a musical household. His father is also a musician so by the age of 12, the young emcee was writing songs and learning to play the guitar, violin, and piano. But his time at Berklee would see him expand his knowledge of music fundamentals. It would also be the place that cemented his love for hip-hop. Prior to his time there, Gyanma describes his musical trajectory as being more of a singer-songwriter. It was at Berklee that he discovered his penchant for writing raps.

    “I really got into like Kendrick, Frank Ocean, more hip-hop and R&B. And that kind of started shaping my sound,” he says.

    It’s a sound that the artist says has come a long way. After graduating from Berklee before the latest Latin Boom and the success of the SoundCloud generation, Gyanma originally wrote his rhymes in English. But eventually, he realized that his wordplay in Spanish was stronger and had to ask himself why he was continuing to, “dribble with his left hand,” as he puts it. After six years in Boston, Gyanma headed back home, determined to share his music with his people and build an organic following in Puerto Rico. And so far, he’s been successful at doing just that, lacing smooth vocals and poetic lyrics over handcrafted beats that incorporate everything from funk to disco to jazz to create the kind of seductive vibe that is making musicheads take notice.

    His latest project is an EP with long-time collaborator and equally talented co-emcee Enyel C, “Duo Deleite.” Over the course of eight tracks, the two high school friends craft an album that sounds like star-soaked nights and palm-tree-lined boulevards, capturing the essence of island life while pushing the soundscape associated with it — something Gyanma feels is necessary for a thriving, healthy music scene.

    “It’s no hate, but I feel like the market here feels really saturated because a lot of people are doing the same thing,” the rapper says. “A lot of it sounds like the same type of beats, the same type of energy, you know.”

    That’s why, along with developing his own career, he also helps aspiring local artists develop theirs. The brainchild of another close friend, Raúl Santos, ALAS (Ante La Adversidad, Sigue) has grown from an event planning partnership between the two into a hybrid record label, recording studio, and talent incubator.

    “A lot of people come with very raw potential and raw energy that at the end of the day still needs developing . . . We try to help them shape their sound, tell them how to start off their projects, [and] how to start off their career,” Gyanma says.

    The project also speaks to the Puerto Rican ideal of auto-gestion which roughly translates to self-management. Auto-gestion reflects an attitude of self-sufficiency that islanders have had to develop in the face of natural disasters and government corruption — learning to elevate themselves rather than wait to be elevated. So, it makes sense that ALAS really came into its own during a global crisis.

    “ALAS was a pandemic baby,” says Santos. “It’s [me and Gyanma’s] response to everything we lived through during our 20s here in PR . . . trying to live and create through hurricanes, corrupt government, pandemic, etc. Through our music and events, we embody a message of independence and perseverance ”

    As a label and incubator, the guidance ALAS provides is tailored to each artist. Sometimes it’s production-oriented, sometimes it’s about crafting the visuals around a project (along with the recording studio in Santurce, ALAS also runs a photo studio), and sometimes it’s more managerial. But the goal is always the same: help young artists overcome the hurdles of the music industry while making good music.

    Santos sees this approach as continuing to cement their position in the industry and help bring new color to the Latin music soundscape while helping artists carve their own paths. And for Gyanma, that path is one of many hats, as he guides not only his own career, but helps push the alternative scene from behind the scenes as an artist, producer, and label owner. It’s no wonder that, since returning to the island, he’s been able to cultivate a faithful following of fans, collaborating with like-minded peers and alt-perreo hitmakers such as RaiNao.

    “We might not have the biggest number of digital followers, but our events are very well-received. We have good turn out. It’s very grassroots, very organic,” he says.

    Making everything organic, making everything flow, seems to be the guiding principle by which Gyanma conducts himself. For instance, one of the tracks off the “Duo Deleite” project, “To lo Gantel,” switches seamlessly towards its end from a kind of California G-funk-inspired song to a throwback reggaetón de la mata and it just works. But organic also describes his approach to the future. He’s gotten some offers from record labels but says it has to make sense — the deal has to be right. Until then, he’ll keep feeding the people with a steady supply of EPs, two of which are on the way: a 3-track pure perreo project and another more experimental project that pulls from anime and kawaii culture.

    “I’ve always loved EPs. I can’t really think of things as a single, I always have to be like ‘OK, so what’s the project that’s coming with it?’” Gyanma says,

    But no matter the project, subject matter, or genre he chooses, fans can be assured that the end result will have that quintessential Gyanma touch, his sometimes dirty, sometimes poetic lyrics, and sound like nothing else out there.

    And now that you’ve got Gyanma and his partner Enyel C on your radar, keep reading to find out who he’s got on his personal playlist, what he’s been watching lately, and more.

    POPSUGAR: How do you take your coffee?

    Gyanma: Oat milk and brown sugar.

    POPSUGAR: What show or anime are you watching right now?

    Gyanma: I’m finishing “Naruto” right now, but I also just finished “Moving,” a K-Drama about superheroes.

    POPSUGAR: What album or artist are you obsessed with right now?

    Gyanma: Jordan Ward.

    POPSUGAR: Describe your music in one word.

    Gyanma: Fire.

    POPSUGAR: What’s the best thing about being an up-and-coming artist?

    Gyanma: Being creative as a job.

    POPSUGAR: What’s the worst thing about being an up-and-coming artist?

    Gyanma: Being creative as a job.

    POPSUGAR: Who do you want to collaborate with most?

    Gyanma: Tainy would be dope.

    POPSUGAR:Finish the sentence: Puerto Rico está . . .

    Gyanma:Caluroso🔥🔥🔥

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    Miguel Machado

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  • Tell Me Más: Indie Boricua Artist Melissa Ocasio Is Manifesting the Music Career of Her Dreams

    Tell Me Más: Indie Boricua Artist Melissa Ocasio Is Manifesting the Music Career of Her Dreams

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    In our Q&A feature series Tell Me Más, we ask some of our favorite Latine artists to answer the questions only their BFFs know about them, revealing everything from their most recent read to the songs that get them hyped. This month, we sit down with Puerto Rican alternative indie artist Melissa Ocasio.

    Since the pandemic, Puerto Rico’s indie music scene has exploded. It’s as if the island births new talent by the hour — and it can seem almost impossible to keep up. One of the artists who emerged during this renaissance is Melissa Ocasio. The Boricua artist has been making a name for herself as an alternative indie meets electro-Caribbean artist, ever since she released her first official single “Agárrate,” a call-to-action song about the femicides happening in Puerto Rico.

    On March 6, 2020, Ocasio released “Agárrate” to the world. But the song was actually two years in the making.

    “I wrote the song ‘Agárrate’ back in 2018. I was living in New York, and I remember I was learning more about feminism and everything related to our rights as women. ‘Agárrate’ was born because of the femicides happening in Puerto Rico,” Ocasio tells POPSUGAR. “Everything started because of Valerie Ann Almodóvar Ojeda. She was a girl that was murdered. It was a really big deal, and it was a case that hit me. I was living in New York and thinking about, what can I do?”

    In 2018, Ojeda was just one of many women murdered on the island. At the time, femicides were occurring on a weekly basis, making Puerto one of the regions with the highest femicide rates in the Americas. The Ojeda case stirred Puerto Ricans on the island, motivating many women to hit the streets in protest. Ocasio’s intention behind “Agárrate” was to create awareness around the issue. What she didn’t anticipate was that this was going to be exactly what she needed to finally kick-start her musical career.

    “I wrote this song, and in my mind, I wanted it to become an anthem. ‘Agárrate’ was like a call to action. It was a warning, like FYI: women are taking the streets,” Ocasio explains. “We’re not going to be silent. We are going to speak about this. We are going to fight for our rights until the patriarchy se acabe.”

    Ocasio released the song a year after moving back to her native Puerto Rico from NYC, where she had been living for a few years taking on media jobs to financially support her dream of becoming a music artist. Although she had written some music and had performed at a few NY venues here and there, the Boricua artist felt like she wasn’t building the momentum she had hoped for. So in 2019, she packed her bags and went back to live with her parents in Gurabo, Puerto Rico.

    “It felt like one of the lowest points of my life. I had ended an on-and-off relationship, and I was also trying to deal with trauma and all these things that as a Latina and as a Puerto Rican, we don’t talk about,” she says. “So, I started going to therapy that year, and at the end of that year, everything changed.”

    Ocasio started to lean into her creativity and focused on writing and creating music. Her style became more expressive and eccentric, wearing funky vintage pieces and getting a sexy pixie haircut. She was becoming more authentically herself. It was around this time Ocasio was also introduced to her current producer, Rafa Rivera Rodriguez.

    “I played him my first song [“Agárrate”] ,and he was like, we can work with this. Let’s do it,” Ocasio says. “The way he accepted me made me feel like OK, I can do this. I was confident before, but now, I finally found the right people to work with.” It was with Rodriguez that Ocasio officially recorded “Agárrate” at AQ30 studio in Bayamón, Puerto Rico.

    While working with Rivera, Ocasio began to sharpen her sound. It’s free-flowing, experimental, and yet so caribeño. Her musical influences have a lot to do with it. Ocasio grew up with two church-going Baptist Christian parents who were also quite musical. Her mom sang, her dad played the trombone, and they were both major salsa fans. They were also heavily involved in their church’s worship choir. In addition to singing at church from a young age, Ocasio also took singing classes, musical theater classes, and piano lessons. She grew up listening to a lot of classic Puerto Rican salsa and Pop en Español artists like Julieta Venegas, Natalia LaFourcade, Shakira, and Juanes. Though Ocasio’s sound doesn’t really compare to anything else, she credits artists like La Lupe, Bomba Estero, iLe, Las Añez, Carla Morrison, and Perotá Chingó for influencing her music.

    After releasing “Agárrate,” Ocasio not only started feeling more grounded in her artistry — she also started excavating her religious beliefs. Having grown up in a Christian church, she found herself dismantling and deconstructing everything she was taught regarding spirituality and the divine.

    “I started finding myself to be like a goddess. Like, I have the power in me. And I started reframing my ideas regarding religion,” she says. “Everything started with meditation. I started journaling and writing down everything that was happening in my mind and my heart. I was combining my thoughts and feelings and writing it all. I also started learning about how to connect with this [higher] energy source.”

    In 2021, she moved out to Los Angeles with her current partner, who is also a music artist, to make the connections she needed in the entertainment industry. Still, Ocasio felt pressure to make money, so she took another media job that she says sucked the life out of her. But this year, she realized the only way she was going to make it as a music artist was if she put all her time and focus on her music.

    “I realized music was my path,” she shares. “I was born to do this.”

    So Ocasio quit her day job on March 15, and on March 21, she released her debut EP “hola, impostora (hello, imposter),” a collection of four poetic tracks that touch on themes she’s experienced in her own career journey. One track is called “Síndrome de la Impostura,” which translates to impostor syndrome.

    “I think everyone at some point has to deal with it,” she says of impostor syndrome. “But I think for me since I first started writing my songs, I felt pretty confident about my singing. But not so confident about my lyrics and my music. I always had this fear that maybe I’m not good enough.”

    The EP’s first track, “Silla Enfermiza,” which translates to sickly chair, touches on how trapped Ocasio felt working at her last 9-to-5 job along with the fear of losing the financial security it provided. Meanwhile, “La Pared” is a song about what happens when we bottle up emotions.

    The track “Vuelo (Flight),” addresses the opposite of “Síndrome de la Impostura.” It represents where you can arrive when you can break past the impostor syndrome.

    Since releasing her EP, Ocasios’s career has been taking off. This month, she kicked off her first tour, “A Las Músicas,” alongside Puerto Rican singer/songwriter Andrea Cruz — they’re playing shows from Aug. 8 to Aug. 31, in cities from Mexico City to New York. She’s proof that when you do the hard work but also surrender to the universe and trust the process, your hopes and dreams can indeed manifest into realities.

    “I think I started manifesting this tour earlier. I think I put it out there. I had like so many notebooks with my thoughts and all this manifesting stuff,” she says. “[When people listen to my music], I want them to feel whatever they need to feel. I write with purpose and intention, but it also has the freedom to be whatever my listeners want it to be.”

    Read on to find out whose album Ocasio has on repeat these days, her dream collaboration, and the beauty product she can’t live without.

    POPSUGAR: How has music healed you?

    Ocasio: I have healed in many ways, but I can say that it has allowed me to heal my inner child.

    POPSUGAR: Who are your top three favorite artists right now?

    Ocasio: Phony PPL, MARO, and Japanese Breakfast.

    POPSUGAR: What album do you currently have on repeat?

    Ocasio: “Casa” From Natalia Lafourcade.

    POPSUGAR: If you could collaborate with any artist on your next track, who would it be?

    Ocasio: Las Áñez.

    POPSUGAR: What beauty product can you not live without?

    Ocasio: SPF — I’m obsessed.

    POPSUGAR: What’s your favorite Puerto Rican snack?

    Ocasio: Sorullitos con mayoketchup.

    POPSUGAR: What’s your most recent TV binge?

    Ocasio: Just finished “Sex and the City.” I finally was able to watch all the seasons in order.

    POPSUGAR: What’s the last book you read and what did you love about it?

    Ocasio: “La Hija Olvidada,” a novel by Armando Lucas Correa. I loved the story and how the themes of religion and language were approached from a little girl’s perspective.

    POPSUGAR: If you had one last day to live, how would you spend it?

    Ocasio: With all my loved ones gathering together, dancing, talking, and eating at some campo in Puerto Rico.

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    Johanna Ferreira

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