Finding Beauty in the Noise

Yeah, that was 2019-ish. I was sending you music when I was 18. My philosophy has always been to use every fiber of my being to express who I am. In those days, I was trying to understand North American culture and electronic music production, following trends through the internet. Moving to the [United] States put that influence into perspective, as well as the strength of my own South American culture. I spent the next few years making sure I was telling stories how they needed to be told, and creating the sounds that needed to be created, whether in my own music or producing for other people.

My sound is defined by that chaos. I grew up listening to Loveless by My Bloody Valentine, which has this distorted wall of noise and shoegaze — maximalist music that is also very lush and pretty. I like that balance in my own music, like on “RUN THE CITY,” where a pretty R&B melody is distorted with electronic dance music breakdowns. Or on “online,” with Akriila, where after a super pretty bridge comes a huge dubstep growl. It’s a constant battle between chaos and beauty that in the end become the same thing.

I grew up in the middle of Buenos Aires, surrounded by noise from people and buses. I enjoyed that chaotic city energy and my ear became accustomed to noise. My dad showed me ‘60s bands like The Kinks, The Beatles, and The Birds, while my brother got me into nü-metal with Incubus and Audioslave. Growing up in the 2000s with dubstep and EDM led me into electronic music. At the intersection of all that were Skrillex and Linkin Park, and then I got into alternative rap like Tyler the Creator and Yung Lean, who were gateways into freaky internet music.

Chile was super different because I moved with my mom, and it was just us two, so I was free to meet people and hang out with whomever. The four years I lived in Chile immersed me in music and art, and put me in contact with people from a bunch of [different] scenes. When I started performing in 2018, Benje of [the midwest emo band] Estoy Bien was there. So were Fco. Chandia and Martín Berríos, [alt-pop artists] who are still active and making great music.

I loved the music, art and culture in Chicago before I ever went. So when I got into college to study music and fashion, I started meeting homies that got me into the hyperpop and digicore scene. The maximalist production spoke to me, but I was missing that Latino connection. It’s there now, but at first I felt out of place singing in Spanish. Artists like umru, Jane Remover, and d0llywood1 inspired me a lot. I felt close to that scene but also really far, and that’s fine. It’s part of being an immigrant.

Growing up in Latin America, you learn that Latin music has many roots, and when we make this glitchy internet music we’re pulling from all those things. Like, I’m not just into hyperpop, I’m also obsessed with [Gustavo] Cerati. Background and context is everything. On the album, “rezo por vos” is a bachata [track] not just because I like bachata, but because it’s the R&B of Latin America, full of longing and melancholy, matching the mood of that song.

I was working on [Akriila’s] Epistolares from afar and knew it was going to be important, so I decided to come back to Chile and live my music for real. I wanted to change the culture where I grew up rather than try and break into the United States, and thank God I did.

We’ve grown to trust each other musically, artistically, and in every way. We admired each other from a distance until we met and started building this partnership. Add [producers] Ego Bloy and Vinco to the mix, and that’s what became Epistolares. We were influenced by Arab music, J-pop, and stuff from the U.S., bringing it all together to evolve what Latin American pop music could be. Epistolares confirmed that I could trust my ideas without external validation.

[My 2023 mixtape] CASI ÁNGELES <3 was light and pretty, so I knew the next project would be dark, heavy, and maximalist. This album is about finding faith in myself through different vessels, which is interesting because a lot of people around me are grappling with these ideas of belief. Idea Blanco, whose album Catedral I’ve been working on, also asks those questions. My song “emoji de cruz” talks about having faith in yourself, but also about shitting on motherfuckers. Like, “I’m the shit. I changed the fucking game. I make the ball roll.” That balance of faith and flexing introduces a braggadocious character and gradually outlines his many problems. For example, my work consumes me and that’s how you get “crisis” with Lara91k, which speaks on burnout and even interpolates Rihanna’s “Work.”

The album is called tutorial de como creer, (or tutorial on how to believe), because it’s about putting faith in different aspects of our life to better understand ourselves. I come from so much change, from moving around countries and cities, discovering different sides of myself in each place and trying to live off music. Though the album has a few religious phrases and motifs, it’s not a religious album. Faith is just the vessel. So is love, friendship, and work. By the time you hit the last song, “speedrun,” the story is more about ego death and finding peace within myself.

We met fairly recently, but we talk a lot about music and fashion, and our tastes are very similar. It was a gift getting to know him during the sessions for his album [I’m Part], and in one of those we recorded the first draft of “FATAL,” which we later finished in a small studio we set up at the Sheraton [Hotel]. He’s a super in the moment person so it’s fun getting together to make music. All the artists featured on the album are so generous. They know I’ve been pushing to make something really special.

Something in how fashion tells a story and showcases the taste of a designer or of the person wearing the piece feels like music. I grew up loving the work of Yves Saint Laurent and Rick Owens; not just culturally, but how they tell stories through collections. Like “Riot! Riot! Riot!” by Raf Simons. Fashion defines the era. I wouldn’t roll out this album wearing whatever the fuck. Even in the songs I reference Raf and talk about Chanel. I have a NUMBER (N)INE jersey that I’ve worn in a couple of music videos [and will feature prominently in the accompanying album film]. The jersey is from a 2001 collection, which is also the year I was born. It all carries an energy. It’s all connected.