State Champ Radio Cover Story
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In February, Nicki Nicole was scheduled to perform in Miami for the first time as part of the Vibra Urbana Festival. But as torrential rain pummeled the 86-acre open-air festival grounds, one artist’s performance was canceled, and others had their sets cut short. Nicki waited anxiously in the wings for nearly three hours, until it came down to her to open the festival when the rain abated for a few minutes.
Wearing a black cutout bodysuit, blue and white motocross pants and her new, light chocolate hair (which she first rocked at the 2024 Grammy Awards) draping over a black headband, the 23-year-old Argentine artist, joined by eight background dancers, performed a 35-minute set that included hits such as “Colocao,” “DISPARA***” and “Una Foto (Remix)” — the collaboration with Mesita, Emilia and Tiago PZK that hit No. 1 on the Billboard Argentina Hot 100 chart in January and spent six consecutive weeks at the top.
Then it started to rain again — but the response from the soaking-wet crowd was still overwhelming.
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“It was very surprising,” an ebullient Nicki says after, still wearing her damp clothes. “With this day, the rain, to see all these people there, and they know all my songs, they’re having a blast — it’s just like I imagined it could be.” Despite the rain, it’s a moment of sunshine for Nicki, who is coming off a roller-coaster week during which she publicly hinted on social media that she and boyfriend Peso Pluma called it quits just five days before her Miami debut.
But Peso is not the topic of conversation as we chat backstage outside Nicki’s trailer, where former Argentine soccer star Maxi Rodriguez has also come to support her show. Her Miami premiere is a big deal for Nicki, and her mother, sister and two brothers are also in town from Argentina for the concert. She says they’re planning to go to Disney World the next day to celebrate.
While this may be Nicki’s first time in Miami, the rapper-singer has been making inroads in the market since April 2019, when she released her debut single, “Wapo Traketero.” That August, she made history on the Billboard Argentina Hot 100 by becoming the first Argentine female rapper to debut on the chart as a solo act. (Cazzu charted first, in July, but as a collaborator on J. Mena’s “Quien Empezó.”) The following year, she made history again, becoming the first Argentine woman to earn a No. 1 with her collaboration on Trueno’s “Mamichula,” which also features Taiu, Bizarrap and Tatool.
Performing a fusion of rap and R&B — but expanding her versatility to other genres like reggaetón and cumbia — Nicki Nicole takes a feminine but edgy approach that paved the way for a new generation of Argentine urban acts — such as Emilia and Maria Becerra — who now also dominate the country’s charts and are playing arenas.
Nicki is tied with Emilia for the second-most No. 1s (both with four), trailing only Becerra, with six. “Entre Nosotros (Remix),” a collaboration with Tiago PZK, Lit Killah and Becerra, topped the chart for 16 weeks, the second-most behind Karol G and Nicki Minaj’s “Tusa,” which ruled for 25.
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While Nicki’s dominance in Argentina is established — she played the last of nine sold-out shows at Buenos Aires’ Movistar Arena on March 10 — her goal now is to go global. She’ll play Madrid’s WiZink Center for the first time on March 21, after headlining Billboard’s inaugural Encuentro de Música en Español on March 19, and will wrap her ALMA tour at the Estéreo Picnic Festival in Bogota, Colombia, on March 24.
The trek — which began in August in Buenos Aires and stopped in Costa Rica, Guatemala and Bolivia, among other countries — is in support of her ultra-personal album, ALMA, that thrives on emotions, spirituality, reason and an awakening to self-love. It was nominated for best rap/hip-hop album at the 2023 Latin Grammys, and the track “DISPARA***,” with Milo J, was up for best rap/hip-hop song.
In the middle of it all, Nicki also publicly addressed her relationship with Peso Pluma after a video of him appearing to hold hands with another woman in Las Vegas over Super Bowl weekend surfaced on social media. “Respect is a necessary part of love,” she posted Feb. 13 on Instagram, where Nicki has over 21 million followers. “What is loved, is respected. What is respected, is cared for. When you are not cared for and there is no respect, I don’t stay there. I leave. It is with great sorrow that I found out the same way you did, thank you for the love you are sending me.”
Nicki Nicole photographed on February 18, 2024 at Vibra Urbana in Miami.
Devin Christopher
The flurry of fan comments, mostly in support of her, highlighted her other side: the singer as social media personality who must focus on her art amid intense public scrutiny. For someone as young as Nicki, she has managed to do so with surprising grace.
“The truth is that I felt that everything was so public that I couldn’t have done it any other way. People already knew it and it was uncontrollable,” Nicki says, explaining why she posted a reaction. “What has healed me the most these days are the people, my fans. I received many messages from women congratulating me on the message I sent,” she says, sounding laid-back and self-assured.
While someone else might have canceled a performance or, in this case, an interview, Nicki did not.
“It’s unprofessional of me to stop every time something personal happens,” she says. “I’m not the center of the world, and there are many people who work for me and with me. I can’t stop everything. My team doesn’t deserve it. My fans don’t deserve it.”
Nicole Denise Cucco hails from Rosario, Argentina, the birthplace of soccer star Lionel Messi. Her interest in music sparked from a childhood admiration for Amy Winehouse, who she looked up to for her soulful, R&B-tinged vocals, as well as her character, resilience and how she treated fans.
“Not only did I empathize with how difficult it is to be an artist but also the internal battles of each person,” Nicki says. “I realized that even though she could be in shambles, she went out to perform, she did interviews, she was with her fans. From her I learned that every person I meet I will always treat them as they deserve and will always give my fans the attention they need.”
Devin Christopher
The youngest of four children (she has two brothers and one sister), Nicki was always the performer at home. “When I was little, I would put on shows in my kitchen and force everyone to look at me singing with the broomstick,” she told Billboard in 2022 during an episode of Growing Up.
Nicki’s mother expected her youngest daughter to finish school and go to college, but she had other plans.
“I explained to her, ‘Mom, look, I really want to make music. I know what I’m proposing is crazy because I’m one in a million who wants to make music, but I really feel that I can make it work, and if I have your support, I can do it,’ ” she recalls. Her mother agreed, and Nicki switched to night school to record music during the day.
She had fallen in love with the more melodic style of Spanish rapper Delaossa, whose music “encouraged me to make bars and freestyles,” and as a teenager, she practiced her freestyling skills at the many impromptu contests held in her hometown.
However, she found the male-dominated scene challenging.
“I would go in, but it was hard,” she remembers. She found that men would edit or change their raps when she was around. “When a man freestyled against a woman, a lot of things were lost — like being able to play with words, being able to say incredible things — and it fell into the basics. I lost a little interest because I felt my rhymes [couldn’t evolve]. So, I decided to freestyle with my friends, to evolve with people who I can rap about the culture, about what happens to me, about the fact that I am a woman — and it helped me a lot to start doing it alone, too.”
Devin Christopher
In April 2019, Nicki launched her YouTube channel with her debut single, “Wapo Traketero” — a slow R&B track fronted by her tender vocals. It was the song’s melodic approach that ultimately helped her stand out in a crowd of emerging Argentine rap and trap artists at the time.
“I always think about my mentality then and now. At that moment I didn’t know if a song was doing well or bad. For me, it just meant that people liked it and shared it,” she says. “I didn’t know about No. 1s, I didn’t know about charts, I didn’t know about trends. My mentality in music was different. When I started, I didn’t think I had to make hits. I just loved releasing the songs.”
“Wapo Traketero” caught the attention of Duki, who was then leading the Argentine trap scene and who boasted about her to his label, Dale Play Records, founded by Federico Lauria in 2018.
“Duki posted about Nicki on social media, writing, ‘We have a new boss in town,’ ” Lauria told Billboard in 2020 of how he discovered her. “When I listened to her music, I went crazy and wanted to sign her immediately.” Lauria, who launched Dale Play with Duki, added Nicki and producer Bizarrap to his roster. (He also manages all of them.) “All these artists come from the same place — the streets — but they’re all doing something different,” he added.
Nicki struck a chord. At 4 feet 9 inches, she defied the stereotype of the female Latin rapper and of what women in the local music scene could do.
Almost immediately after her signing, Nicki scored her first Billboard chart entry in 2020 with “Mamichula” in collaboration with Trueno and Bizarrap. The song hit No. 1 on the Billboard Argentina Hot 100, leading for four weeks, and became her first entry on the Billboard Global 200 and Global Excl. U.S. charts. That same year, she scored her first Latin Grammy nomination, for best new artist.
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Overall, Nicki has placed 33 entries on the Billboard Argentina Hot 100, tying with Karol G for the second-most among women behind Maria Becerra’s 46. Out of those 33, nine hit the top 10 and four reached No. 1.
On the U.S. charts, “Pa’ Mis Muchachas,” with Christina Aguilera and Becky G and featuring Nathy Peluso, earned Nicki her first top 10 when it debuted at No. 3 on Latin Digital Song Sales in 2021. “Ella No Es Tuya,” with Rochy RD and Myke Towers, became her first Hot Latin Songs entry, and her second album, Parte de Mí, was her debut on Latin Pop Albums that same year.
“All you need to do is see her live in concert to fully understand the impact Nicki has on people,” Lauria tells Billboard. “The artistic flight she has and her musical talent make her unique — how she goes through people, her sensitivity, her lyricism. This was all enhanced with her latest album, ALMA, where she was able to open up from a more sensitive place. And it clearly shows with the success that her tour is having.”
Back inside her trailer at the Vibra Urbana Festival, a cool and collected Nicki is snacking on chips and a banana — as Ivy Queen performs onstage in the background. The Puerto Rican diva’s set followed Nicki’s at the festival, which is fitting, as she has been a major inspiration.
“When I started music, one of the first women who offered me advice was Ivy,” Nicki recalls. “I loved what she said because it is unforgettable — like, ‘Mami, I want you to know that everything you do and the place you have, you earned it by yourself. And here you have a place as a woman. We fought so that you have this place.’ ”
Devin Christopher
The first woman artist to support an up-and-coming Nicki Nicole, however, was Cazzu. The artist born Julieta Emilia Cazzuchelli (and partner of Christian Nodal) became a household name in Argentina in 2018 after gaining momentum from “Loca (Remix)” with Khea, Bad Bunny and Duki. Nicki’s first time onstage was at a Cazzu concert and her first female collaboration was “Cómo Dímelo,” in 2019, with Cazzu.
“When a new woman appears, the patriarchal construction of the public makes them first compare us and then make enemies of us,” Cazzu says. “She was going to shine with or without me, but I was the only woman there. I let her know that she could count on me inside and outside of music because I had to go through endless sexist and misogynistic experiences. That hurt my spirits, and I didn’t want her to go through that. That’s what the movement is about. That one of us cleared the weeds from the path so that others could walk better and waste less time fighting and put it into music.”
That first expression of female support later appeared in other powerful collaborations with female artists from different countries and styles, including “Pa’ Mis Muchachas” with Christina Aguilera, Becky G and Nathy Peluso; “intoxicao” with Emilia; “Formentera” with Aitana; “8 AM” with Young Miko; and “Enamórate” with Bad Gyal.
“I love the woman who does not envy, who does not compete, who wants the best for everyone,” Nicki says. “One of the messages that really stuck with me is that of Young Miko. She was over the moon. She was having a big, explosive moment, and yet she flew to record the music video for ‘8 AM’ and sent me a message that said, ‘If we succeed, we all succeed together.’ What I like most is working with women, because in the studio we flow a lot, we share similar feelings and life situations that we understand among ourselves, and that’s great when it comes to working together.”
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Beyond being a loyal girl’s girl, Nicki’s bold attitude and stage presence have organically earned her the respect of the music industry and fans globally.
In addition to her eight Latin Grammy nominations, she won female new artist at the 2021 Premio Lo Nuestro, performed on The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon in April 2021 and made her debut at Coachella in 2022. Most recently, on March 5 during Paris Fashion Week, she appeared as a Lacoste brand ambassador.
After her sold-out show in Madrid, she’ll play Barcelona and, later, Mexico. Once she’s done with touring, Nicki promises to spend more time in the recording studio rather than on the road.
“Right now, I feel like there are a lot of things that are happening to me personally and I want to put them into music,” she says without elaborating. “There’s a lot of inspiration,” she adds with a smile.
By now, inside her trailer, she has progressed from snacks to a shot of whiskey, and Nicki raises her glass. “For my first concert in Miami and for my first Billboard cover. ¡Salud!’”
On June 29, 2012, Nick Miller regained consciousness in a Boulder, Colo., hospital room. The day before, he’d overdosed on heroin, the final act of a 10-day drug binge. Coming to, he saw his mother and the sadness in her eyes. He was 21 years old and had been sober for 15 months after time in rehab and years of opiate addiction. He’d been doing so well.
But his mom had known something was off after her son had gone quiet over text and phone. She called a friend of his, insisting they go check on him while she packed a bag and booked the next flight to Denver. The friend found Miller unresponsive, thrust naloxone — the opioid overdose reversal medication — up his nose and dialed 911. If not for his mom’s sense that something was wrong, it’s unlikely that I’d be here in Miller’s house on this chilly February afternoon in Los Angeles to talk with him about his incredible success as electronic producer Illenium. It’s unlikely he’d be here at all.
Sitting in the cave-like home studio within his large and otherwise light-filled house, Miller, 33, dotes on his dogs — the regal Belgian Malinois Grace and a small but fierce blonde dachshund whose dedicated Instagram account has 23,000 followers and for whom the house’s Wi-Fi network, “Palace du Peanut,” is named — holding them in arms covered in sacred geometry and Eye of Sauron tattoos. He makes jokes and direct eye contact, speaks in ski-bum parlance (“fire,” “sick,” “chillin’ ”), endearingly giggles and generally comes off as a person worth rooting for.
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I ask Miller what he’d say to that hospital room version of himself, given everything that has happened since. His answer is immediate: “There’s no way I would have even believed the possibilities.”
Illenium plays Billboard Presents THE STAGE at SXSW on March 16. Get your tickets here.
As Illenium, Miller is one of the most successful electronic acts of the last half-decade, a dance music star in the fireworks and confetti tradition, but with a harder and more rock-oriented sound and sensibility than straightforward main-stage EDM. In a genre known more for talent-heavy festival bills than solo-show hard ticket sales, he’s one of only a handful of artists, like ODESZA and Kaskade, playing venues as massive as stadiums and arenas.
Still, it’s possible you’ve never heard of him. Illenium hasn’t yet had a solo crossover hit (“Takeaway,” his 2019 collaboration with The Chainsmokers and Lennon Stella, hit No. 69 on the Billboard Hot 100 and remains his highest-ranking single on the chart), and unlike some world-famous DJs, he doesn’t frequent fashion shows, post shirtless selfies or chase fame.
He calls himself “very much a homebody,” one who most enjoys staying in and working on music, playing video games and hanging out with his dogs and his wife, Lara. The two met at a festival and married last September in Aspen, Colo., not too far from their primary residence, a 23,000-square-foot estate in the Denver suburb of Cherry Hills. Miller says he only bought the L.A. house in 2021 because “I was spending so much money on hotels and studio spaces here that it made more financial sense.” He has left twice in the last six days, once for a meeting and the other time to play the second of his back-to-back headlining shows at SoFi Stadium.
Louis Vuitton shirt and Askyurself sweater.
Daniel Prakopcyk
These Trilogy performances — so named because they feature three separate Illenium sets over five hours — are the current crown jewel of the Illenium empire. Prior to the Feb. 2 and 3 shows in L.A. (where his team says fans bought $2 million in merchandise alone), last June’s Trilogy concert at Denver’s Mile High stadium grossed $3.9 million and sold 47,000 tickets. It happened amid a 26-date North American tour that sold 191,000 tickets and grossed $15.7 million, according to Billboard Boxscore. His fourth studio album, 2021’s Fallen Embers, earned a Grammy Award nomination for best dance/electronic album, an accomplishment that came months after the debut Trilogy show at Las Vegas’ Allegiant Stadium helped break the pandemic’s pause on live music.
With nearly 33,000 attendees, the July 3, 2021, performance, according to Boxscore, broke the record for the biggest dance music event for a single headliner in U.S. history. At the end of it, Miller told the roaring crowd that for him Trilogy represents “my transition from a f–king sh–ty life. That was my past. So it’s just f–king crazy, this. What the f–k? This is a f–king football stadium.”
Performing from a cryo-spitting tower of LEDs on the 50-yard line was not on Miller’s radar when he started releasing music in 2014. His work helped form the then-emerging future bass subgenre, which, like the bass music that influenced it, is huge and often heavy but also simultaneously soft — like getting hit in the head with a two-by-four wrapped in velvet. Future bass also incorporates more traditional verse/chorus song structures than much of the wilder bass made by Illenium’s influences and peers — Zeds Dead, Excision, SLANDER, Dabin, Said the Sky, Space Laces — and his work also heavily integrates rock, metal, indie and pop sounds. The Illenium oeuvre, developed over his five studio albums, is cinematic, anthemic, often heavy and typically lyrically personal music that mulls deeper themes — love, heartbreak, rage — than standard dance refrains about putting your f–king hands up.
“I’m sensitive,” Miller says, and “for sure” an emotional person. For him, writing music is a form of escape, release and healing, and he thinks listeners can feel the depths he’s pulling from: “A fan who’s going through something — when they listen to something personal, it just bonds in a different way.”
Des Pierrot vest, Jack John Jr. pants, Louis Vuitton shoes.
Daniel Prakopcyk
This bond is a key reason why fans not only love Illenium’s music, but often have devotional relationships with it. The audiences at his shows party and headbang — but there’s also a lot more crying at an Illenium concert than at most electronic sets.
His fusion of bass with traditional song structures has also fueled his broad appeal. UTA’s Guy Oldaker, his longtime agent, came up in the bass scene of Colorado — the genre’s spiritual U.S. home and a huge dance hub, with Denver effectively tied with Miami as the United States’ highest-indexing major market for electronic music streaming, according to Luminate. But Oldaker hadn’t figured out how to cross these artists over into major festivals and Las Vegas residencies, where he says crowds usually want “easily accessible pop music.”
When a promoter sent Oldaker demos by a local producer named Illenium in 2014, “I went, ‘Holy crap, this is exactly what I think will work with this audience in Vegas,’ ” Oldaker recalls. “I know very well how to build an artist in the scene where I’ve built everything else. I knew if I could connect the dots, we’d have a winner.”
Now, after the pandemic deflated his team’s plans for international expansion, Illenium is poised for the kind of global ubiquity Oldaker has long believed he could achieve — that is, if that’s even what he wants. “I go back-and-forth on if I’d rather be a famous world star DJ,” Miller says bluntly, “or just like, kind of be chillin’.”
When Oldaker first met him, Miller was sober — and also deep in the bass scene. He handed out show flyers as an intern for local promoter Global Dance, wrote for electronic music blogs, frequented Red Rocks Amphitheatre in Morrison and Aspen’s Belly Up Tavern and fell in love with the music and community he had found. He’d returned to rehab following his overdose and, afterward, started teaching himself music: playing piano, watching YouTube tutorials on music theory and making “like, ‘Wonderwall’ remixes and random crap, just to figure it out.”
Soon, the music blog dubstep.net voted one of his tracks the No. 1 song of the moment. “I was like, ‘Let’s f–king go,’ ” he recalls. He’d also started performing around Denver and in 2015 signed with Oldaker (then at Madison House Presents), who sent Illenium (his name references Star Wars’ Millenium Falcon) on the road as a support act for artists like Big Gigantic and Minnesota. After a show at the 500-capacity George’s Majestic Lounge in Fayetteville, Ark., attendees bought out the venue for a second night so Illenium could play again. “And that sold out,” Oldaker says. “These were small-market shows by someone no one had ever heard of who was getting 250 bucks to open for another artist, and all of a sudden he’s blowing out some room in Arkansas.”
Miller and his team — which by this time included manager Ha Hau (also the founder of Global Dance) and touring manager Sean Flynn, whom he’d met in recovery — started putting up headline shows at smaller clubs. They decided he needed a signature “thing” and that it would be, Oldaker says, “putting so much production into these rooms that people walked out like, ‘I don’t know what I just saw.’ ”
For a 2015 set at Denver’s 650-capacity Bluebird Theater, Miller spent $10,000 on a custom metal phoenix, a symbol of his rise from addiction that has also appeared on his album covers and on the Illenium jerseys that are the de facto fan uniform at his shows. “On most of my tours, I’ve gone as far as I could with production by breaking even, or just slightly above,” he says. Flynn declines to give an exact price tag for Trilogy’s production, but says the shows are “really expensive.” They weren’t sure if they’d even turn a profit with the SoFi sets, but then “the second show crushed,” Miller says. “So we were chillin’.”
Daniel Prakopcyk
Streams, ticket sales and festival billings grew steadily as his profile rose, and his second album, 2017’s Awake, reached No. 106 on the Billboard 200. But Miller felt a disconnect. Fans didn’t know about the personal experiences making his songs so emotionally intense, a chasm that felt especially wide when they told him his music had helped them through hard times, like dealing with addiction.
“I’ve been wanting to share something super personal with you for a while,” Miller wrote in a letter posted to X (then Twitter) in August 2018, revealing his struggles with opiates and his overdose. “I was trapped in it, had no passion, no direction and truly hated myself… I’m just sharing my story and relating because music saved my life too.” The news came in tandem with the release of “Take You Down,” a huge, hypnotic song he wrote about his mother. “I couldn’t see that when I went to hell,” vocalist Tim James sings, “I was taking you with me.”
“Watching that relationship get torn by the sh-t you keep doing — at first, it’s like, ‘Why are you on me so much, I’m not even that bad,’ ” Miller reflects now. “Then it goes into ‘OK, I can’t stop’ and then it goes into, like, “F–k everyone. I can’t live without it.’ And then you’re just breaking down.”
Making this information public initially made him nervous “because I didn’t want to come off preachy. I love rave culture and people enjoying themselves and don’t want to be the person that’s like” — he shifts to a nerdy tone — “ ‘You guys are really f–king your lives up.’ ” But six years later, he thinks his fans appreciate knowing, “given all the music that has come out of it and that I did all of this sober.”
LEMAIRE jacket and Louis Vuitton shirt, pants and shoes.
Daniel Prakopcyk
In a realm not known for temperance, Miller says that Kaskade — one of the few sober dance artists — has been a role model who has shown him “you can do this and not be a party animal, because it’s hard. You see how insane people go and wonder if you’ll be accepted if you’re not partaking.”
But Miller is also uniquely suited to talk to fans about drugs. Last year, he partnered with L.A.-based nonprofit End Overdose, which distributes free naloxone and fentanyl test strips, provides training on how to respond to overdoses and is a partner of major dance music promoter Insomniac Events. He raised $50,000 for the organization through a fan donation matching campaign, became a certified End Overdose trainer, gave tutorials on administering naloxone on Instagram Live, provided trainings at stops on his last tour and gave contest winners an in-person demonstration at the Denver Trilogy show. Over 2,000 doses of naloxone have been distributed across these events; last September, one was used to resuscitate someone at a concert (not Illenium’s) in Kansas City, Mo. “We’ve literally saved lives together,” End Overdose communications officer Mike Giegerich says. “It’s beyond meaningful.”
Meanwhile, Miller has rather cleverly figured out a healthy (and productive) way to satisfy his own addictive impulses. “To have five hours to shape the night and do it all?” he says of the Trilogy shows. “That’s like, my psycho drug addictness. That sounds very fulfilling and, like, a sweet high for me.”
The five-hour Trilogy shows have also given Miller time to explore the direction he’ll pursue next. After his rock- and metal-focused 2023-self-titled album, which featured artists like Travis Barker and Avril Lavigne, the Trilogy sets inspired him to return to his electronic roots, and he’s working on “a lot” of new music. Collaborations with Tiësto (a Colorado neighbor Miller calls “the f–king man”), REZZ, Seven Lions, Mike Shinoda and others he’s not yet ready to name are forthcoming — not as an album, but as singles to be released throughout 2024.
Outside of scattered festival dates, he’s not touring this year, but Oldaker says, “World domination is where I think we go from here.” Flynn says the team “had a lot of steam” in Europe and Asia before the pandemic, and it’s now positioned to rebuild that momentum. American-style bass music has historically “had a hard time getting good traction” in Europe, Oldaker says, but he fervently believes Illenium could be the one to break it.
Miller’s own feelings are more mixed. He points out that his seven-date European tour last summer hit 2,000- to 3,000-capacity rooms and turned out “fire” crowds in cities like Brussels and Barcelona. He also acknowledges that the more minimal, less headbang-y European scene is “just so different,” Miller continues, “and I never bought into it. I’m not a partier. I like being home, and I don’t play that game of ‘meet this promoter so you can play their festival or club.’ I’m so not that person, and I think that has hurt me a bit in Europe.”
Still, he’d love to bring the full show abroad. He has growing fan bases in Asia (he did his first headlining show in India in February) and Australia, and his team is also eyeing expansion into Africa and Central and South America.
Meanwhile, North American demand hasn’t abated for the artist Oldaker calls “the underground monster you’ve never heard of who all of a sudden blows your mind.” Several stadiums have reached out about hosting a Trilogy show, and fans can see Illenium through September at his residency at the 2,100-capacity Zouk in Las Vegas, a club the team chose for its production capabilities. Having played Vegas since his days as an opener, Miller has learned “the game” of these shows: “taking yourself less seriously, just having fun and not trying to have a musical therapy session in a f–king Vegas club.”
Daniel Prakopcyk
While there are many goals still to reach — a crossover hit (his official remix of Taylor Swift’s “Anti-Hero” toed the line), major mainstream festival headlining slots, movie scores and, Oldaker says, “expanding what he’s doing so people understand he isn’t just a bass producer and can do all these other things” — the imminent strategy is simple: keep building “core events,” Oldaker says, like Trilogy and Illenium’s Ember Shores destination festival in Mexico, which held its second edition in December. “Yes, we want to headline all the major festivals, but we have a great thing going with Trilogy where we can create these incredible experiences for fans to come be a part of,” Oldaker explains. “We’ll continue building it and hope these bigger festivals see the value we’re creating.”
“There is no ceiling to cap the success that he is capable of,” adds Tom Corson, co-chairman/COO of Warner Records, which released Illenium. “Nick is a career artist who can be as big as he wants to be both within dance music and outside of the genre.”
While now in a period of relative downtime, the guy whose lexicon heavily favors “chillin’ ” doesn’t, actually, want to be entirely chill. His Colorado rhythm is to drink coffee, run the dogs, tend to Illenium business — a straightforward model of “merch and music and shows,” he says — then hit his home studio. He’s also remodeling a Denver warehouse into a recording space for himself and other artists, some of whom will likely appear on the label he’s putting together. When he’s really not working, he golfs, snowmobiles or hangs with his parents, sisters, nieces and nephews who, Oldaker says, “are always around him.”
“They’re so happy, full of joy,” Miller says of his family’s take on his achievements. “We have a beautiful life now.”
That family isn’t just his direct relations anymore, but the tens of thousands of screaming fans who love him — not only as an artist, but as a survivor: the kid in the hospital bed who was about to get up and make it all happen.
This story originally appeared in the March 9, 2024, issue of Billboard.
It’s the tattoos that really make Christian Nodal stick out like a sore thumb. With his inked-up body — and face — he looks more like a rapper or rock star than the exploding regional Mexican artist he is.
“I didn’t want to be anyone’s shadow,” Nodal declares. “I felt that the genre was stigmatized under all these stereotypes, and I wanted to break all of that because I was unsatisfied to see that our genre wasn’t going far enough.”
Since launching his career in 2017, Nodal, now 25, has made a name for himself (sometimes with sharp elbows) as a maverick in a genre long bound by tradition. From the time he started at age 18, he has revolutionized regional Mexican music by pioneering mariacheño, a subgenre fusing mariachi’s strings and horns with the norteño accordion.
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“I didn’t want to disrespect anyone, much less the mentality of some of these [regional Mexican] legends who think the genre should sound and look a very specific way,” he explains. “But that wasn’t me. I didn’t feel part of it. I wanted to make it my own.”
Christian Nodal plays Billboard Presents THE STAGE at SXSW on March 15. Get your tickets here.
When we meet in mid-December at Lienzo Zermeño — where charreadas, or Mexican rodeos, take place in the middle of Jalisco’s bustling city of Guadalajara — Nodal beams with pride as he recounts the arc he has followed to become one of Latin music’s biggest stars in a few short years. He may look like a malote (bad guy) — he jokes about the role he would probably get cast for in a movie because of his tattoos — but he’s far from it, offering friendly hellos to the ranch’s workers and flashing a shy smile to the bystanders who recognize him but are too timid to introduce themselves.
Nodal’s entry into the regional Mexican world was a bit less genteel. When he started his career, the music’s leaders were purists who leaned heavily on the traditional sound that had worked for them — and for the genre that has been around for more than a century. That left little room for experimentation, and some in the industry initially balked at Nodal’s unorthodox approach. “I think the first year they saw me as the new kid, but by my second year, I don’t think they liked that I was still around. I saw a face of the regional Mexican that was quite raw, real and ugly,” Nodal says. “I was disappointed and thought, ‘OK, we probably won’t be creating a bond, much less collaborating. Fine. I’m going this way and [making] regional music bigger.’ ”
To that end, Nodal has collaborated with artists well beyond regional Mexican, including Romeo Santos, Kany García, David Bisbal, Sebastián Yatra and Maná — but without sacrificing his mariacheño style. (His few collaborations with regional acts include Alejandro Fernández, Banda MS and Ángela Aguilar.) He has also sought out new songwriting voices, including the Grammy Award-nominated Edgar Barrera, who co-wrote some of Nodal’s biggest hits.
That willingness to challenge genre norms propelled the mariacheño singer — whose urban cowboy aesthetic incorporates leather vests, diamond necklaces, statement earrings and heavy rings on his fingers — to a remarkable year both professionally and personally in 2023. In December, he wrapped his Foraji2 Tour, a 31-date arena run produced by Cárdenas Marketing Network that kicked off in August and followed his 22-date 2022 Forajido tour. He won his sixth Latin Grammy Award (best ranchero/mariachi album) for Forajido EP2, and he scored his 15th No. 1 on the Regional Mexican Airplay chart — a record for a solo artist since the list launched in 1994 — with that set’s “Un Cumbión Dolido.” And he became a father when he and his partner, Argentine rapper-singer Cazzu, welcomed a baby girl in September.
“I remember those times when I would come down from the stage and feel alone,” says Nodal, who now lives in Argentina with Cazzu and their daughter. “Now I come down to a stroller with my baby in it, and it all seems perfect. She has already been on tour with us, and I thought it would be hard, but she’s a rock star,” he says, getting choked up. “When she was born, I was feeling exhausted. I don’t know how I managed to change diapers, but she gives me energy, motivation and strength.”
Dolce & Gabbana shirt, Chrome Hearts vest, belt and jewelry, and Braggao and John Varvatos jewelry.
Lisette Poole
A lot has changed — not just in his personal life, but in the broader Latin music landscape — since Nodal released his first single, the achingly beautiful “Adiós Amor,” in 2017. Powered by wailing trumpets, a stirring accordion and Nodal’s strikingly mature and evocative baritone, the song quickly established him as one of the great vocalists in the genre. It earned him his first Regional Mexican Airplay No. 1 and spent seven weeks atop the chart. “When working with Christian, these two things are always present: He’s like an artist from another planet when making music, and [he sings] it in a spectacular way,” says Afo Verde, chairman/CEO of Sony Music Latin-Iberia, which signed Nodal in early 2022.
Now, thanks to the doors Nodal has opened in just a few short years and the sound he pioneered, regional Mexican is dominating the Latin charts, and a new crop of artists — who sing corridos tumbados, tumbados románticos, sad sierreño, or whatever the latest iteration of the genre is, and are keen to collaborate — has taken the lead, helping globalize the music that, while a backbone of Latin, was long considered meant for a niche audience. But none of those performers have dominated quite like Nodal — and he has done it on his own terms.
“Everything can coexist,” he says. “I enjoy fusing sounds, but I don’t run toward something just because it’s working [for others]. I’m very careful not to deviate from my purpose. I still need to feel proud of what I do.”
Born in Sonora, a northern Mexican state that borders Arizona, and later raised in Guadalajara and Ensenada, Baja California, Nodal grew up in a musical household, listening to pop, rock, rap, bachata and more. But he also developed a great respect for regional Mexican — it “practically fed us,” he says — from an early age. He loved to watch his grandfather play the trumpet: “I think before I wanted to be a singer, my goal was to be a trumpeter like Arturo Sandoval.” His father and manager, Jaime González, who has also played the instrument since childhood, is an industry veteran who managed late sierreño singer Ariel Camacho, a major inspiration to Nodal. Today, González’s record label/management company JG Music includes Nodal, Los Plebes del Rancho de Ariel Camacho and Los Elementos de Culiacán. González met Nodal’s mother, Cristy Nodal, while they were in the same musical group, in which she sang lead.
“We’ve been musicians all our lives,” González says. “From a very young age we instilled music in all our children, but more as a hobby or tool to help them with their emotions. Not so much as a business, because we have been doing this for a long time and it is not easy.” But Nodal wanted to sing, so his mother, a longtime mariachi singer, taught him. “They were committed,” González remembers. “At first, I didn’t want to get on board because I didn’t have the time and I didn’t want this complicated career for him because he’s very sensitive. But when I would come back from tours with Ariel, Christian and his mom had several songs already written, and I said, ‘OK, fine. I’ll produce an album for you.’ ”
AMIRI shirt, Alessandro Vasini jeans, Chrome Hearts, and Braggao and John Varvatos jewelry.
Lisette Poole
That first unofficial album included a cover of “Adiós Amor,” a song previously recorded by Los Dareyes de la Sierra. His mother wanted him to record it in mariachi style, but “I really thought of mariachi as music for older men,” Nodal says. He honored her wish, but at Nodal’s request, his father added the norteño accordion — to represent his “esencia sonorense” (Sonora essence) — along with banda-style trumpets and subtle violins.
“People responded really well to it on social media,” González remembers. “It’s as if the world had been waiting for Nodal.”
When “Adiós Amor” went viral, Nodal’s team comprised Cristy, then his de facto manager, and González, who was his producer. “I remember I would see cars pass by [in Ensenada] blasting the cover I had uploaded to Facebook,” he says, laughing. But then he noticed a problem: No one knew he was the one singing the song. “I think people expected it to be an older man, and it was funny when I would be at clubs in Guadalajara and they’d play my song and I would be like, ‘Hey, that’s me,’ ” he says. “They could identify the song but not the face, and I wanted that to change. It was something that kept me up at night.”
Nodal needed support — and it came by way of Universal Music Latino/Fonovisa, which signed him in 2017 after “Adiós Amor” caught the labels’ attention. By that August, he had released his official debut album, Me Dejé Llevar, which peaked at No. 2 on Billboard’s Top Latin Albums list, his highest ranking on that chart. But after releasing two more studio albums between 2019 and 2021 under Universal, a feud with the label turned public when Nodal took to Instagram Live to reveal he would not be renewing his contract; shortly after, in early 2022, Nodal signed with Sony Music Latin in a partnership with Sony Music Mexico. “When you’re young and you don’t know about these things, you do what you have to do to achieve your dreams,” says Nodal, who won’t share much more about the conflict. “If nothing goes wrong in your life, then you don’t learn.”
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When Nodal met for the first time with Verde and his Sony colleagues Alex Gallardo (president of Sony Music U.S. Latin) and Roberto López (president of Sony Music Mexico), he made his expectations clear. “I told them that I want to have the freedom to work with any artist from any label, that I want freedom to decide when I’m going to release my albums and that I want to own my albums after a certain amount of time,” he recalls. “Afo, Alex and Roberto are people that I love very much, and they have shown me the good side of the industry. They are putting their life, their faith, their effort into the growth of an artist.”
“What helped us to build trust with Christian and a great team was that from the beginning we had great chemistry,” Gallardo says. “We knew how to listen to his needs and concerns, and we worked to provide him with as much support as possible and put at his disposal a team that would work for him and help him achieve his goals.”
For Sony, Nodal was a valuable roster addition — an “ambassador of Mexican music to the world … responsible for spreading the love for Mexican music to new generations in many countries,” as López puts it. He was also already an established star. His 2022 Forajido tour grossed $14.5 million and sold 147,000 tickets from 22 shows, according to Billboard Boxscore, and in 2023, he grossed $21.6 million and sold 259,000 tickets. Under Sony’s supervision, his star has only continued to rise. Nodal’s albums have earned a combined 2.2 million equivalent album units, according to Luminate, and he has 3.2 billion on-demand official streams in the United States. He has also placed 20 entries on Hot Latin Songs; five of them hit the top 10, including the No. 3 debut and peak of “Botella Tras Botella,” with Mexican rapper Gera MX in 2021. The pair’s norteño-tinged, hip-hop-infused track became the first regional Mexican song to enter the Billboard Hot 100 in the chart’s then 63-year history. (Today, more than 30 songs have reached the chart.)
“Christian was more ready for this moment than I was,” Gera MX says. “When we saw the song was blowing up, we called each other constantly. I asked him if this was normal, and he told me, ‘Guey, esto es único. [Dude, this is unique.]’ It had never happened before, much less with a mix of urban and regional. It was like riding the highest roller coaster of my life with one of my best friends.” They recorded the song at one of their carne asadas (cookouts) during the pandemic, when both were living in the same residential community in Guadalajara; Nodal would bike over to Gera MX’s house. “When we first met, I was surprised at how much he knew about rap,” Gera MX says. “He is an artist in constant evolution.”
Lisette Poole
González had been more skeptical of the collaboration. “He was like, ‘No, how are you going to do that? People are going to get angry,’ ” Nodal recalls. “And I told him, ‘Listen to me: This is what we’re going to start seeing in the genre.’ ”
Nodal followed his hunch — after all, it wasn’t the first time he and his father had disagreed. “If I’ve been doing this for six or seven years, it probably took us five to create a healthy relationship between us,” Nodal says. “I would go one way, and he would go another way. I didn’t want to do what he wanted me to do. I wanted to be me. It took many years to fully understand and respect each other, and it had nothing to do with our father-son relationship. Now we are completely aligned when it comes to the business of my career.”
In October, Nodal asked friends back in Guadalajara to get him three string instruments: a tololoche, a docerola and a requinto. “It got in my head that I wanted to do a corrido tumbado,” Nodal says in early February. “I fell in love with the genre. The good thing is that my neighbors in Guadalajara didn’t complain, because the tololoche is a very noisy instrument and my apartment is not very big.” After hearing the demo, Nodal thought Peso Pluma would be a great addition. So, over FaceTime, he asked the corridos singer to meet up — which they did at one of Peso’s Anaheim, Calif., concerts in December, where they agreed to collaborate. “Hassan [Peso’s real name] has a respect for me and my career, and we had great conversations.” Nodal says. “The chemistry was there.”
The resulting team-up, “La Intención,” is both a sign of the times — younger regional Mexican artists now understand that working together only strengthens the genre — and of what has given Nodal’s own career longevity. His adaptability has not only allowed him to move among styles (like pop, cumbia and urban) with ease, but also to transcend generations and remain a constant in an ever-expanding genre that in the years since his career began has become a global movement. “When I started this career I felt a big responsibility, and I still feel it today,” he says. “Not everyone agreed with everything I did early on, but now I feel that my career is projected onto the musical criteria of young artists who dare to do things differently without being afraid.”
At 25 years old, he may be the relative elder statesman of the new (and very young) generation of regional Mexican artists, but Nodal is just as fired up as when he started. “A lot of the dreams I had, I already accomplished, but I’m enjoying whatever comes. I don’t worry about the person I have to be in the genre; the most beautiful thing is to flow with what is happening because the genre will always be there. I’ll just keep releasing music from my heart [and] enjoy the process and what my fans have given me.”
Lisette Poole
Nodal is on a monthslong break through May, which, for him, feels like uncharted territory: He hasn’t taken any real time off since his career started seven years ago. “COVID didn’t count as a vacation, right?” he jokes. “I don’t know myself in vacation mode,” he adds with a nervous chuckle, as if coming to the realization as he says it out loud.
Today, “vacation mode” Nodal sounds blissful yet invigorated. Later this year, he says he’ll release Pa’l Cora, the album of his dreams, which will include a recording session in France with his mariacheño band in tow. The making of it, along with planning and embarking on a tour with stops in countries like the United Kingdom and Switzerland — a major milestone for an artist in a genre that typically doesn’t book European shows outside of Spain — will be captured in a behind-the-scenes documentary.
These shows, and this album, were for a long time simply dreams for Nodal. “I was constantly pressured to keep moving,” he says. Now, from his home base in Argentina, he’s able to lead a more balanced life, one in which peace and moments of inspiration aren’t mutually exclusive. “I don’t think my life has changed because of where I live but because of how I am living my life,” he reflects, sounding wise beyond his 25 years. “I think this time away from being up and down, connecting with what I love has made me realize how lucky I am. I am at my best stage in every way, in all aspects. There is a light in my life that no one can take away.”
This story originally appeared in the March 9, 2024, issue of Billboard.
Good! Lovin’! Feel so! Numb!”
It had been seven years since PartyNextDoor had performed in The 6. But one Thursday night last May, approximately 2,500 fans at History — the Toronto venue Drake, Party’s OVO label boss, opened in partnership with Live Nation in 2021 — welcomed him home to the city, feverishly chanting the lyrics to his beloved hits like “Wus Good/Curious.”
SiriusXM Canada had tapped the singer, songwriter and producer to headline the free, sold-out PartyNextDoor & Friends concert to celebrate its new 24/7 hip-hop and R&B channel, Mixtape: North, which highlights homegrown Canadian talent. And what better way to fete the country’s brightest stars than by transforming History into a full-fledged OVO Fest? Nearly all of the influential label’s roster took the stage, and even Drake himself made a surprise appearance to perform his and Party’s mid-2010s collaborations “Recognize” and “Come and See Me.”
“I don’t mean to put you on the spot or anything. I know you hate this the most,” Drake said, chuckling, his arm wrapped around his introverted labelmate. “I’m so grateful for you. I would not be the artist I am if it wasn’t for you.” Then, turning to the audience: “This is really my favorite artist in the world.”
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PartyNextDoor plays Billboard Presents THE STAGE at SXSW on March 14. Get your tickets here.
Over the last decade, Party, 30, established himself as an alternative R&B auteur who seduced listeners — and shaped his genre — with hazy, hypnotic Auto-Tuned vocal melodies, nocturnal trap production and carnal yet cognitive lyricism about what pleasures (and problems) the wee hours sometimes bring. And while that often added up to a late-night, hedonistic vibe, his authentic, limber patois and dancehall-infused rhythms also gave his music an irresistible Caribbean flavor.
Meanwhile, he established himself as one of pop music’s most sought-out hit-makers, working in various roles behind the scenes with artists including Kanye West, Beyoncé, Jay-Z, Post Malone and Rihanna, the lattermost of whom he has made two Billboard Hot 100 top 10 hits with: the nine-week No. 1 “Work,” featuring Drake (which he co-wrote and sang backup on), and DJ Khaled’s seven-week No. 2 “Wild Thoughts” (which he co-wrote and produced), featuring Bryson Tiller. Some fans and critics have argued that his leaked reference tracks for those songs — where Party himself sings them — sound better than their final star-powered versions.
“He has written some of the biggest songs of our time,” says his longtime manager and Range Media managing partner, Tyler Henry. “He has contributed to [work by] some of the greatest artists. He’s an artist himself. He’s truly one of one.” Henry first met Party in 2013 when he was the assistant road and tour manager for Drake, who had picked his latest OVO signee to support his Would You Like a Tour? trek. Henry started managing him the following year, and Party remains a key part of the manager’s roster, along with WondaGurl, HARV, Loshendrix and more.
Gucci shirt and Jacque Marie Mage eyewear.
Erica Hernández
Yet even with his impressive résumé, Party hasn’t achieved the level of stardom many R&B fans expected him to when he helped record some of the defining pop hits of the 2010s, excelling behind the scenes but failing to fully step out from Drake’s shadow. When asked about the pressure of being signed by such a colossal artist and ensuring his body of work can stand on its own, Party trails off. Despite previously expressing superstar ambitions, it seems like he has had to recalibrate his career goals.
“I’m just keeping the main ting the main ting,” Party says. “The only thing that’s important, that has changed my life, is dropping music. I’m not worried about the fame.” Speaking today in Los Angeles, wearing a simple, textured black hoodie, matching sweats and white Nike Air Force 1s, he certainly doesn’t seem like an attention-seeker. But he does sport one flashy accessory: a silver pendant chain with a cartoon rendering of a girl sticking her tongue out — a gift from Drake celebrating their “Members Only” collaboration from his latest Billboard 200-topping album, For All the Dogs. “Drake has the same one,” Party says proudly.
The rap titan’s co-sign increased awareness (and with that, scrutiny) of Party. But his frequent absences from the public eye — he has only put out three solo albums, in 2014, 2016 and 2020 — have also made it hard for fans to stay engaged with his releases or know what he’s up to. If he’s put in front of a laptop, Party says, “I’ll make a full album.” If it’s that easy, then why does he disappear for years in between each one? “I get into relationships and then music becomes second,” he admits matter-of-factly. “I think I’m going to take a break from relationships, a long break, and just get back to making music.” Of course, those same relationships often ensure Party has plenty of songwriting material to work with when he makes his way back to the studio.
“After you and a girl break up, does she know she’ll eventually become the subject of a PartyNextDoor song?” I ask.
“I think everyone knows that,” he responds smugly.
Erica Hernández
Relationships, frivolous or serious, are the common thread throughout Party’s music. He says he approaches his songs from a “me and her” perspective, creating the intimacy that’s also required for the prime PartyNextDoor listening experience. His solitary music resonated especially during the pandemic, and in October 2020, Party and his team appealed to lonely fans finding comfort in catalog music by dropping PartyPack, a set of seven fan-favorite deep cuts that hadn’t previously been available on digital service providers. Sometimes fans have unearthed his old songs themselves: Thanks to a dance challenge, the sped-up version of “Her Way” from his 2014 debut album, PartyNextDoor Two, blew up on TikTok in 2023, becoming the year’s most popular TikTok song in Canada and third-most popular in the United States.
And while he has continued to find new fans with the success of his older music — Party’s song catalog increased from 645.8 million on-demand U.S. streams (including user-generated content) in 2022 to 1.1 billion streams in 2023, according to Luminate — most successful artists can’t sit back, relax and rely on their fans to run up their catalog. Outside of the PartyNextDoor & Friends Toronto show, Party has only performed at a handful of festivals (like Las Vegas’ Lovers & Friends) and college shows since the pandemic’s live-music pause ended. But, as Henry explains it, those were just the prelude to Party’s next act. “We like to do a few each year to make sure we’re fresh and in front of people’s minds,” he says. “It keeps us sharp for when a moment like this album comes.”
That album is his upcoming fourth full-length, PartyNextDoor 4 — P4 for short. And while there’s no release date set, Party promises it’s his most focused project yet. “This is the hardest I’ve ever worked on an album. This is the proudest I’ve felt,” he says. “I’m excited to grind even more for the next [one]. I’m in love with how hard you should work for it.”
Growing up in the “moody” Toronto suburb of Mississauga, the artist born Jahron Anthony Brathwaite imagined himself as Ahmal, the student who sings “Oh Happy Day” in 1993’s Sister Act 2: Back in the Habit. Following in the footsteps of his Jamaican mother, Party joined his church’s choir and eventually moved up to a more advanced singing group within the church. “I had a solo coming up, and I was so nervous. I was going to get my sh-t off just like that Sister Act movie. I was going to get my moment. But they just cut it,” he says with a shrug.
Instead of dwelling on the defeat, he dove deeper into his newfound passion. He soon became fascinated with boy bands like Backstreet Boys and *NSYNC. But “once I understood who I am in the world as a Black man, I started really getting into Black music,” he says, citing Jodeci and 112 as inspirations. “I think Slim from 112 is part of the reason why I pitched up my music, because he sounded so young when he was getting older.”
Party questioned if being a “dread-headed” Jamaican guy from the Toronto suburbs meant he could be a “real” R&B singer. “Real R&B is pretty. It’s six-pack, it’s shaven head, low fade,” he says. But at 16 he tried his luck, dropping out of school and moving to Los Angeles, after posting his first songs to MySpace under the name “Jahron B.” They included cheeky, upbeat tracks like “Monica Follow Me Back” — which he made to persuade a girl named Monica to follow him back on Twitter (he succeeded) — as well as somber, piano-driven ballads like “Daughters,” describing how a drug-fueled hookup led to an accidental pregnancy.
Around that time, veteran A&R executive Shalik Berry showed “Daughters” to Warner Chappell Music’s Ryan Press, then-senior director of A&R (and now president of North America), who was immediately blown away by the intense storytelling. “After I heard that one song, I was like, ‘I have to sign this kid,’ ” says Press, who did so in 2012.
Louis Vuitton hat and shirt and Jason of Beverly Hills ring.
Erica Hernández
In 2016, Press helped Party establish his own joint venture with Warner Chappell called JA Publishing Group, which still operates and currently houses G. Ry, Prep Bijan, Phwesh and Alex Lustig (the lattermost also has a partnership with OVO president Mr. Morgan’s publishing company, M3 Ent). “ ‘Hey, man, if you’re stepping into this side of the business, you’re dealing with people’s livelihoods,’ ” Press recalls telling the young musician. “ ‘We got to handle business properly. You got to have the same passion for them that I have for you.’ ” Party took the advice to heart. “He wanted to create an ecosystem that other great talent could thrive and be successful under,” Henry adds, noting that Party even made sure one of his signees worked on a big record before assisting him in securing “a pretty large six-figure” publishing deal. But as much as Party loved helping other creatives get their shine, he was still waiting for his turn.
Getting his singing career off the ground had been a struggle. As a preteen, he tried out for the Canadian music competition series The Next Star but was cut. He remembers gushing during one of the taped interviews for the show about how he wanted “to sing like Aubrey Graham.” The person recording him “was an actor on Degrassi. And he laughed at me. He’s like, ‘Drake, the one who makes music in my dressing room?’ I was like, ‘Yeah, I think he’s the best ever.’ ”
Years later, Party would take his stage name from the FL Studio software audio filter titled “partynextdoor” — which reminded him of OVO co-founder Noah “40” Shebib’s dark, brooding production. When he first heard the effect, Party recalls, “I was just like, ‘This is me. I’m going to make all my music sound like this.’ ”
Once Party started taking meetings with labels, fellow Jamaican Canadian producer and frequent Drake collaborator Boi-1da caught wind of it and ran the artist’s name up the OVO flagpole. When Drake and 40 eventually invited Party to the studio, “we just meshed,” he says. Party became the first recording artist signed to OVO in 2013, and the label opted for a low-key yet fitting announcement: His track “Make a Mil” was posted on the OVO blog, the digital hotbed for new talent that ultimately transformed into the boutique label it is today.
Erica Hernández
Throughout OVO’s history, some have questioned the way the label supports its artists not named Drake; Drake and the OVO team declined to even be interviewed for this story. In 2016, a Noisey headline asked, “Is OVO Sound A Hip-Hop Label Or Drake’s Personal Hit Factory?” And upon joining OVO, Party did support his label boss immediately: He provided background vocals for “Own It” and “Come Thru” on Drake’s 2013 album, Nothing Was the Same, and produced and co-wrote “Legend,” “Preach” and “Wednesday Night Interlude” on 2015’s If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late, featuring on the latter two songs. Two months before Nothing Was the Same, Party dropped his self-titled debut EP, which earned rave reviews and yielded the Miguel-sampling classic “Break From Toronto.” The following year, PartyNextDoor Two cracked the top 20 of the Billboard 200. However, in the subsequent years, Party’s output grew less frequent and his allure dwindled.
In a 2015 PartyNextDoor Fader cover story — built around the musician’s first-ever interview — OVO co-founder and Drake manager Oliver El-Khatib said that part of OVO’s ethos was restricting access to its artists and letting the music speak for itself. But while that air of mystery maintains OVO’s cool reputation, banking on Drake’s star power to draw in new fans can keep the rest of his labelmates in his orbit at the expense of their own career growth.
While Party’s artist career hung in the balance, his songwriting vocation took off. Press says he was always in Party’s ear about possibly working with Rihanna because of their shared Caribbean heritage. When the star — who at the time was also signed to Warner Chappell — hosted a writing camp for what would become her 2016 album, ANTI, at her Malibu, Calif., home in 2015, Press called up Party to come through. Despite being in a house full of other competing songwriters and producers, Party insisted that he spend time alone with her so he could make songs that fit her vibe.
“I remember her telling us she was drinking vodka and water at that time. I had never seen Party drink vodka until that night. I think he even smoked a cigarette because she had smoked,” Henry says of the night the two made “Work.” The song became ANTI’s biggest hit, with 1.6 billion official on-demand U.S. streams. “Seeing the way he spoke to her and the questions he asked and the way he fully submersed himself into her identity was what made the song special. And he does it with all the artists he works with. He doesn’t write these generic songs that we try to find a home for. He writes them very purposefully for that artist.”
While “Work” reigned atop the Hot 100 in March 2016, Party finally got his own breakthrough as an artist with the Drake-assisted “Come and See Me.” The song earned Party his debut Hot 100 entry as a lead artist, peaking at No. 55, and yielded his first Grammy Award nod, for best R&B song. (He was also up for album of the year for contributing to Drake’s Views.) “Come and See Me” has become the biggest streaming song from his catalog, with 854.2 million official on-demand U.S. streams.
Finally, it seemed Party the artist was stepping firmly out of Drake’s shadow — even though the rapper was featured on the track, it was unquestionably a spotlight for his signee. “Come and See Me” earned Party the recognition he craved. But solo fame turned out to be less gratifying than he’d thought it would be.
In 2017, the year before Kanye West released his eighth studio album, Ye, he invited Party to his Yeezy Studio in Calabasas, Calif., and gave him the freedom and space to create whatever he pleased — offering no indication as to what he might eventually do with it.
So Party was surprised when, as he listened to Ye along with millions of others upon its June 2018 release, he heard one of his Calabasas freestyles. The song, “Ghost Town,” had additional vocals from Kid Cudi and 070 Shake, but only credited Party as a featured artist. “I didn’t know what he was going to do with it. It’s different when I have no creative control. It is raw. ‘Someday,’ ” he sings in a similar fashion to his recorded vocals. He initially felt caught off guard, but became appreciative of West’s trust in his talent. “It wasn’t about working with PartyNextDoor. It was just about liking what I did creatively,” he says. “Ghost Town” reached No. 16 on the Hot 100 — Party’s highest-charting hit on the all-genre list.
The way West used Party’s sketch to make “Ghost Town” startled him because, when it comes to his own music, Party pays attention to every painstaking detail. “He’s the most meticulous and thorough person I’ve ever met,” Henry says. “He’ll spend six months mixing a song or fly to Toronto four times just to work with 40 to get it right.”
Erica Hernández
Party, however, admits he didn’t have that laser focus when making his last two studio albums, PartyNextDoor 3 and PartyMobile. “I was still handling that sh-t like demos,” he says, adding that he wasn’t “using everything I learned as a producer, as a writer, as an engineer.” Even though rough freestyles like 2014’s “Persian Rugs” — one of the loosies later included on PartyPack — proved he didn’t need polished records to develop a robust fan base, he vows to never “cheat” on the quality of his art again.
On P4’s forthcoming single, “Real Woman,” Party resharpens those creative tools, layering his vocals with bright, twinkling synths, trap hi-hats and a backing choir. But considering his last single, “Resentment,” debuted in the top 10 of Hot R&B Songs last July and fell off the chart after three weeks, it’s unclear how much momentum “Real Woman” will build for this album cycle.
Fortunately, he has plenty of performances in the coming months where he can perform the new material, including Rolling Loud California and, at the end of March, Souled Out, Australia’s first modern R&B and soul festival, which will be held across five cities. “I have so much anxiety before a show, but I always tell my manager, ‘This is what I want to do for the rest of my life.’ I always forget that until I step on the stage,” he says.
Reconnecting with his fans live — and making sure the music he performs is of the highest possible quality — is, in the end, what fuels him, even if playing the part of a traditional megastar isn’t a natural fit.
“I know Drake and people always tell me, ‘Bro, you have to come out more!’ I’m an introvert, I’m shy,” he says. He’s not active on social media either because he doesn’t “have the narcissism” to believe people are personally invested in what he’s posting. And anyway, he doesn’t want to distract from what’s important: “I’m focused on making classic music.”
This story originally appeared in the March 9, 2024, issue of Billboard.
As the five members of NewJeans file gracefully down the stairs at their Billboard photo shoot in Seoul, they greet me with bright smiles and genuine greetings of “Nice to meet you.” Just a few days prior, the exploding K-pop girl group won artist of the year and song of the year at both the Melon Music Awards and MAMA Awards, two of South Korea’s most prestigious music prizes — and just two of the roughly 10 awards shows they attended and performed at in the country this past December and early January. Yet despite the hectic schedule of winter awards season there, they exude warmth and enthusiasm.
That infectious energy has endeared the women of NewJeans — Minji, Hanni, Danielle, Haerin and Hyein, who range in age from 16 to 19 — to fans both in South Korea and worldwide. Since debuting in July 2022, NewJeans has swiftly ascended to the top of the K-pop pantheon. Six of its eight released singles have reached No. 1 or No. 2 on South Korea’s dominant streaming measure, the Circle Digital Chart. The act has made inroads on several Billboard charts as well, including three top 10 hits on the Global 200 and four on the Global Excl. U.S. chart, five entries on the Billboard Hot 100 and six top 10s on World Digital Song Sales (the highest-reaching was “Super Shy,” peaking at No. 2 last July). The group’s songs have gained 931.6 million official U.S. on-demand streams, according to Luminate.
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Along the way, NewJeans has smashed expectations in K-pop, helping lead a new era of female influence in a genre long dominated by male groups. While it was once accepted industry wisdom that only boy bands could build a core fandom and widespread commercial success (selling both albums and concert tickets), NewJeans is part of a girl-group generation that has done both, shifting the paradigm of what achievement entails for young female groups. And NewJeans has done so under the guidance of an equally innovative leader: It’s the first act to debut under ADOR (All Doors One Room), led by founder and CEO Min Hee Jin, the rare woman leading a K-pop label and management company.
About a decade ago — when this writer started working in K-pop as a producer — it sounded very differently. Record labels emphasized melody, dynamic vocal range and cohesive track arrangements, while dance performance was simply considered support for a song. Over time, the music trended toward bombastic anthems well-suited to choreography, and so-called “easy listening” songs (those preferred by the South Korean general public, who of late have not been K-pop’s core audience) tended to get lost. But NewJeans has proved that strong performances and easy listening need not be mutually exclusive. And as Billboard’s Women in Music Group of the Year says in person in Seoul, the act is just getting started.
Danielle
Ssam Kim
Haerin
Ssam Kim
How did it feel to win artist of the year and song of the year at the Melon Music Awards and MAMA Awards?
Hanni: It was really surreal to win such big awards. Honestly, for us, when it comes to these types of awards shows, we are just excited to be there. Just to be invited is an honor. We never expected [to win]. We really are just thankful for everyone who has put in a lot of hard work toward our content and music and all the people that really enjoyed it, so I think it just makes it more fun.
Danielle: I agree with Hanni. There are so many people that put in so much effort and hard work into what we do, and we are just so honored that so many people are enjoying it just as much as we are enjoying it. Sharing that happiness and positive energy through our music is such an honor in itself.
You have a small discography but so many big songs like “Ditto,” which won song of the year at the Melon and MAMA awards. Which did you expect to become as big as they did?
Danielle: When our CEO has a new song and she’s prepared to make a new album, she gets us all in her studio and we listen to all the songs together. I remember the first time we heard the songs for our album Get Up, we were just blown away. Because we truly were just like, “This is so us! This is so NewJeans.” When I first heard “Ditto,” I felt a connection to it — I guess I felt if people hear this, I want them to feel they’re healed in some way. So to know that people out there are receiving somewhat of a positive energy, it’s really amazing. Every time we release new music, we wonder if people are going to enjoy it just as much as we do. To see people out there jamming to our songs, it puts a really big smile on our faces.
Hanni
Ssam Kim
From left: NewJeans’ Minji, Danielle, Haerin, Hanni and Hyein photographed on December 4, 2023 at Seongbuk Songjae in Seoul.
Ssam Kim
Traditionally, men have run the K-pop industry, and ADOR was notably founded by a woman. What was it like training under a CEO who has that shared perspective?
Danielle: I can’t imagine what it would be like if it wasn’t for our CEO, Min Hee Jin. We are so close to her, and we feel such a strong connection to her. After a conversation with her, we’d just be inspired and learn so much. When we go overseas and stuff, she’d take us out shopping and we’d have dinner together, and we’d spend hours and hours laughing and talking about what happened and how we’ve been and telling stories.
Hyein: She is very consistent. She’s always wondering about us and worrying about us. She’s very friendly and reaches out [to us] first, which helps us feel really comfortable around her. She gives us advice like a mother would. She’s not just a great CEO but a great human being in general.
Historically, core fandoms have been harder for women to achieve in K-pop. But in the last few years that has completely changed, and NewJeans is at the forefront of that. Why do you think you’ve been able to capture that?
Minji: It may have to do with the fact that the K-pop market became a lot bigger. That’s one of the reasons why we started with so much attention and love from the general public. We never really set a specific [goal], but rather aimed to put on a performance that we love with songs that we love. I think this probably helped our fans love us from early on.
Haerin: I agree with Minji. I think it’s also because there are so many channels we can use to communicate with our fans and the public.
Hyein
Ssam Kim
Minji
Ssam Kim
I think NewJeans has changed how music sounds in K-pop, with a trend toward returning to easy listening music. Do you agree?
Danielle: Music itself is always changing. But before we debuted, our CEO told us that she wanted to do something new, something fresh and different. But with that, she wanted it to be, no matter who you are, no matter what age or gender, you can listen to it and enjoy it. So I think with that came the easy listening music. We didn’t really think, “Oh, we’re going to change music, that’s crazy.” (All laugh.) We just wanted to try something new and fun.
You’ve accomplished so much in a short time. Where do you want to go from here?
Haerin: I want our songs to move people. My goal is not only to have songs that are emotional but also to share the emotions with people onstage and through our music.
Minji: I have similar thoughts to Haerin, but I want our music to be remembered for a long time. For example, I want people to think of last winter when they hear “Ditto.”
Danielle: Besides music and performing, I just want to become someone who stays true to myself and is always open-hearted and open-minded and modest and tries really hard because there are so many things I want to do and so many places I want to go. I want to experience a lot and learn a lot and just enjoy the time being with the [NewJeans] members.
This story will appear in the March 2, 2024, issue of Billboard.
The street that leads to Luna Líquida Hotel Boutique, above the center of Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, is steep and cobbled, ending in a modest gate painted sky blue with the number 409 embedded in a yellow tile on the wall.
It’s the kind of place you find only if you’re looking. And it’s exactly how Fher Olvera, lead singer of legendary Mexican rock band Maná, imagined it when he bought it in 1994, after the group’s first major hit finally allowed him to purchase the house of his dreams: a small, rustic property with an ocean view.
“When I bought the house, I asked the agent if it had any capital gains, and he asked, ‘What do you want it for?’ ” Olvera recounts as we chat on the rooftop of Luna Líquida, from which you can see the sea, the tower of the old cathedral [Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe] and the orange tile roofs of old Puerto Vallarta. “I told him I wanted it to make songs. He asked, ‘How many?’ I said, ‘Judging from the view, at least one album.’ ‘Buy it,’ he said.”
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Exactly 30 years have passed since Maná debuted on the Billboard charts in January 1994 with Dónde Jugarán los Niños, an album of songs about love and spite, set to rock and reggae beats that revolutionized what was known as rock en español. It peaked at No. 2 on the Top Latin Albums chart. As a result of that success, Olvera bought this house, and he and the rest of Maná — drummer Alex González, guitarist Sergio Vallín and bassist Juan Calleros — hunkered down here to write the albums that would cement their position as the most successful Spanish-language rock group in the world.
“Many Maná songs were born here,” says Olvera, standing in a sunny room painted light blue with tile floors, wooden beams and long, transparent gauze curtains. Olvera, who is wearing a necklace with a silver sea turtle, his favorite animal, lived here before buying the property next door and converting both homes into this 17-room hotel that’s filled with thousands of Maná’s stories.
“Here, I finished ‘Vivir Sin Aire,’ ‘Cómo Te Deseo,’ several songs. Then on the next album, Cuando los Ángeles Lloran, you can hear the church bells from the cathedral below. The next one, Sueños Líquidos, is very linked to Vallarta. In fact, the cover — the mermaid with four arms — is the sea of Vallarta. We made all that music here with our little tape recorders. The four of us slept here, some in double beds. We hired a woman to cook for us, and our routine was to be up very early drinking coffee and stay up very late drinking red wine. Then on Wednesdays, we would go to a club called El Cactus where women got in for free. It was…” he chuckles. “You can imagine.”
Fher Olvera of Maná photographed on Dec. 1, 2023 in Fresno, Calif.
Martha Galvan
It’s Olvera’s first interview in years, just days before the band’s México Lindo y Querido Tour, its first in Latin America in eight years. The act will play 16 dates, starting in Asunción, Paraguay, on Feb. 16 and including five at Buenos Aires’ Movistar Arena and an appearance at Chile’s Viña del Mar Festival. Maná will then headline the Bottlerock Festival in Napa Valley alongside Pearl Jam, Stevie Nicks and Ed Sheeran before continuing to Spain for 11 additional dates and its first-ever London concert, at the OVO Arena.
“For me, it is a dream to play in London,” says Olvera. “Since I was a teenager, I saw The Beatles and The Rolling Stones and said, ‘Wow.’ ”
What was admiration is now, in a way, understanding. Like The Rolling Stones in the English-language market, Maná has kept its integrity and its production quality, and its live touring schedule has remained active through the decades. In 2023, the quartet played more than 55 concerts, including 16 as part of its residency at Los Angeles’ Kia Forum, where it sold over 220,000 tickets, according to promoter Live Nation. (Maná does not report its sales numbers to Billboard Boxscore — a decision based on its philosophy of valuing the artistic over the monetary.)
“It feels incredible that the band remains relevant after so many decades,” González says. “Because the songs are so good, both lyrics and music. And also, because of the way Maná plays live. And third, and most important, is that our music has been handed from family to family, from grandparents to brothers to parents and children.”
“More than representatives of Latin culture, I think we’re one of many Latin colors and that through our music, people relate in many ways,” adds Vallín.
When it comes to staying power as a live act, “Maná’s connection and reach is undeniable,” Live Nation senior vp of global touring Jared Braverman says. “The band’s total commitment to their music, their stories and their passions have meant that they reach many generations and have an influence that never passes.”
Alex González of Maná photographed on Dec. 1, 2023 in Fresno, Calif.
Martha Galvan
In terms of recordings, Maná is the rock group with the most entries (33) and No. 1s (10) on the Hot Latin Songs chart, with the most albums (15) and No. 1s (eight) on Top Latin Albums and is the Latin band, of any genre, with the most No. 1s (eight) on Latin Pop Albums.
“They’re an iconic band,” says Warner Music Latin America president Alejandro Duque. “We’ve fallen in love, mended our broken hearts and celebrated our Latin culture with them. There is no other band like them. They’ve put Latin American music at the highest level on a global scale.”
Last November, the group achieved its first Regional Mexican Airplay No. 1 with its new version of 2011’s “Amor Clandestino,” alongside Edén Muñoz. The song will be part of a currently untitled covers album of Maná’s greatest hits reimagined as duets with Mexican influence. The collection will finally arrive later this year; the band has been releasing singles from it (including “Rayando el Sol,” with Pablo Alborán, and “Te lloré un Río,” with Christian Nodal) since 2019.
“Don’t scold me, don’t pressure me,” Olvera says sheepishly. “We have been lucky — because from the beginning, we said we’d release the albums when they were ready. Less money? Yes, it is less money. It’s not an album per year.”
His attitude reflects the ethos of Maná and its other three members, who remain united “like little brothers.”
Olvera spoke to Billboard Español about what’s next for Maná, the secret of its success and what he really thinks about reggaetón and the new wave of regional Mexican music.
This is exactly where you wrote or were inspired to write some of your most iconic songs, like “En el Muelle de San Blás.”
There’s a very interesting story in this room. We went to party at one of those dives where you stay out really late. We finished like at seven in the morning, and like good Mexicans, went to kill our hangover at a taco stand. I was with my buddies, and one of them says, “See that woman over there? They call her ‘the crazy woman from the pier’ because every Sunday, she dresses in white to wait for her betrothed. So I went up to her and asked, “Why do you go to the pier?” “To wait for my boyfriend, my betrothed.” “Where is he coming from?” “From the north. By boat.” “And when is he getting here?” “Tomorrow. He hasn’t come in many years, but he’ll come tomorrow.” Then she ignored me and left.
When I came back home to this room at 8 a.m., I grabbed a pencil and wrote on the wall: “She waited for him at the pier until her eyes flooded with mornings, and her hair, like the foam of [the] sea, white.” Every time I left the room, I would read that and think, “I have to write a song about that story.” I never found the woman again, but I did find out that there were no roads back then and many people arrived by boat. So probably everything she told me was true. I called it “En el Muelle de San Blás,” which is up north, because “Puerto Vallarta” didn’t fit the song’s meter.
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What other stories does this room keep?
Tons. If this bed could talk… Once I was with a girlfriend. We were already with the candles and everything, romantic, and — I swear it’s true — this is a tile roof, and something fell through the tiles and started to move. It was a snake. We’re like, “Aaahhhhh!,” and took off running. A snake expert had to come and take it out.
What moment are you at in life right now?
A great moment. I feel very whole. My voice is whole. Emotionally, I suffered a little crisis, I had a little depression. I had many blows in a row after my father died when I was little; then another sister died, about 20 years ago; then my mother and my sister both died in 2010. I found myself almost alone with my [last] sister. There were six of us, and now there’s two. So I did get a little freaked out.
On top of that, I had some complicated relationships, and we did not have good management. But thank heaven, I’m pretty well now. I’m no longer medicated, and I just have to worry about continuing to meditate, not getting too stressed and trusting the new management we have with Jason Garner and my sister, Lourdes. They’re like a Ferrari.
Maná was always a band that sang only in Spanish. Now that music in Spanish is global, do you feel vindicated in some way?
Actually, yes. We feel good, we feel proud that as Mexicans, as Latin Americans, we said, “We’re going to do it in Spanish,” and in Spanish, we’re bigger bosses than in English. And the truth is, a culture was created through this, where we spoke about the rights of migrants, the rights of people in the United States. It’s given us credibility and consistency, and we have license to talk about all this because from the beginning we did not betray our language.
Juan Calleros, left, and Sergio Vallín onstage at Toyota Center on March 30, 2023 in Houston, TX.
Juan Botero
Fher Olvera, left, and Alex González onstage at Oakland Arena on March 18, 2023 in Oakland, Calif.
Juan Botero
A band that stays together over 30 years is almost a miracle. What’s your secret?
One, we’re still very good friends, which is very difficult. It’s like a marriage, and we are truly like brothers. And second, we haven’t fallen into the clutches of drugs, alcohol, ego, which happens to many artists. It’s hard for one person to take on so much adulation. It’s very complicated.
How did you handle those challenges? Is that something you strategized as a band?
No. Otherwise, everyone would do that. I think we’ve been blessed because we’re people who love music, love what we do and truly give our all to fans. On the other hand, the rise of Maná was slow, and we were able to understand what was going on, and we didn’t go from one day a one-star hotel to another in a five-star hotel and a private plane. No. It was little by little, and we’re still very down to earth. I can tell you Sergio sometimes comes by bus because there are no flights. I just went to see U2 in Las Vegas, and I flew commercial. We’re pretty normal.
Sergio Vallín of Maná photographed on Dec. 1, 2023 in Fresno, Calif.
Martha Galvan
In fact, people may not be aware that you cap the price of your tickets.
Yes, it’s one of the things we like to do. We want everyone to have accessible ticket prices. We have tickets from $35 … Now, if you want to smuggle a little bottle of something, it’s up to you.
In all these years, what’s the biggest lesson you’ve learned?
First, let’s define success. Success is making a living doing what you like. Whether you’re a farmer, a musician or work in architecture or design, if you’re happy doing that, you made it. You don’t have to be a superstar. So what all this has taught us is, first, that friendship is worth a lot. And also, know that you can control your ego, that it has reins like a horse, and you tell him, “Wait a minute, cabrón, you’re getting out of hand.”
How do you control your ego?
I personally meditate and say, “OK, Fher, what have you done wrong? I haven’t been too tough on so-and-so. You need to relax and let people do their jobs,” because I’m a perfectionist and I want to do everything. We can’t be saying we’re the most important rock en español band; all those things are … a bother. We truly only want to feel that we’re musicians, and that’s what we have to give.
Maná could live on its catalog and never tour again. Why do you do it?
We still love going onstage. We go out as if Mexico or any other country was playing the World Cup against another team. Every concert, we give it our everything. Everything, everything, everything. We don’t hold back anything. To this day, when I’m waiting for the curtain to open, I’ll tell Sergio, “Feel my heart. It’s going tuck-tuck-tuck.” And Maná is a band that really likes to connect with their fans. Our fans are the fifth bandmember.
Fher Olvera onstage at Kaseya Center on April 15, 2023 in Miami, FL.
Juan Botero
This is the first time you’re playing Latin America in eight years.
And we’re also returning to Spain. For the production, we hired people from Belgium, Argentina, Mexico, the U.S., so they could create a fun, beautiful production in which music is the most important element. We really enjoy the island — the set we put in the middle of the audience. That makes things a little more democratic for people who don’t have enough money to buy expensive tickets.
Why is the tour called México Lindo y Querido?
The band has always loved Mexican culture, those magical aspects of Mexico. There’s so much joy; it’s something [filmmaker] Guillermo del Toro says: “We even party with death.” Mexico has many things. For example, José Alfredo Jiménez’s songs, like “El Rey,” all that ranchera music culture narrates what happened in Mexico. Mexicans are also melancholy, our hearts ache. José Alfredo used to say, “You’re born in tears and die in tears.” That culture is embedded in Maná’s lyrics: “I cried you a river, now cry me an ocean.”
They are all evocative lyrics. You have said in other interviews that you are not a fan of reggaetón lyrics.
They’re very violent and very repetitive lyrics and sometimes even lack respect for women. That’s my feeling. I think you are running out of literary resources if you resort to that type of lyrics to be able to release your song. I respect the genre a lot, but the lyrics are not lyrics that appeal to me. Most of them are quite empty, quite simplistic, and it doesn’t look like real work was put into them. That’s my point of view. There are some better lyrics in reggaetón, but I think most are pretty poor. I don’t know if many years from now these songs will still be heard. Probably not, because they lack literary strength.
I think there has been a lot of pressure from the industry itself for artists to release a lot of music and very quickly. But I feel like right now we’re going in the direction of more melodic and crafted songs. Do you feel that way?
I think there is a point where people are going to get tired. But hey, musical taste is up to each person. Sometimes I say, “Well, it’s great that there is reggaetón and that Maná sounds different. Now, whether I like it or like it enough to dance to…” The one I definitely can’t listen to much is Bad Bunny — and I really respect him! (Smiles good-naturedly.) He has reached places no other Latin artist has, and that has merit, on the one hand. But that doesn’t mean you have to like it. It’s great to have everyone do well, but we need to change that trend. If you write a letter to a girl, you’re not going to put that stuff in there. Where’s the romance for women? Or for men, for that matter?
What do you think of the new wave of Mexican music?
That’s interesting. For example, the way the guitars and bass intertwine, everything is very well done. And suddenly they switch from four-four to three-four [time]. They’re creative. I don’t like the lyrics very much either. Our country is already violent enough. But we go back to the same thing: I see them as authentic; they’re doing something from the heart. And there are good things in the music, in the guitarrón arrangements. There are very talented people.
Juan Calleros of Maná photographed on Dec. 1, 2023 in Fresno, Calif.
Martha Galvan
Do you see Maná as a Mexican rock band? Or simply a rock band?
Along those lines. A Mexican rock band, rock pop band or whatever you want to call it. There are many fusions. Alex is Cuban, and Maná is like mestizo music. Last Saturday, I went to see Carlos Santana, and it’s the same thing. Many say, “It’s not rock,” or “Yes, it’s rock.” At one point, some bands were looking down their noses at us, saying we weren’t rock. It really bothered Alex.
Did it bother you?
The answer I gave at a press conference was, “You’re right. We’re not a rock band.” If we were, we wouldn’t have made “Mariposa Traicionera” or “Te lloré un Río.” We’re more than a rock band because we broke down the walls of rock’n’roll and went further. This whole discussion of rock, no rock is pure blah-blah-blah. Pure bullsh-t. It’s music. And in the end, Alex also said, “OK. Yes.”
México Lindo y Querido is a big tour. How hard is it to travel with it?
We send cargo to South America ahead of time, some by boat, some by plane. We want to have the exact same show as the U.S. show. We don’t have a production A and production B. Many artists, especially non-Latin acts, travel to Latin America with a trimmed tour. We take everything with us and don’t cut any music out. And if people ask us for more music, we keep on playing.
You’ve spoken for years about migrant rights, and during the U.S. leg of the tour, you donated to many immigrant organizations. What’s your position?
More than a political position, it’s a humanitarian position. When we spent time with [President Barack] Obama at the White House, we weren’t supporting Democrats. We were supporting the people who work, who put food on the table for Americans. And Obama understood that perfectly. We’re not with Democrats or Republicans. We’re for the people. For human rights. The United States benefits from Mexican workers.
Fher Olvera at home in Mexico on January 31, 2024.
Paulina Pérez
We’re in Puerto Vallarta, which has a strong connection to your environmental foundation, Selva Negra, which you created back in 1996. The beaches where you hatch the sea turtles Selva Negra is so famous for are close by.
They’re toward Nayarit, on a large beach called Platanitos. The government has a reserve that is untouchable, and we partner with them to take care of the turtles in a very large area. In Platanitos, we have a conservation station where the biologists and people who take care of the turtles are. Last year, we released almost a million baby turtles into the sea, a record. We’ve been doing this since ’96, so there are many of my daughters in the sea. And we also have a nursery in Jalisco, where we plant trees and sell them to the government, which pays us very little, but we come out even. We’ve planted hundreds of thousands of trees.
Do you feel that now more than ever artists have social responsibility?
I believe that if it comes from the heart, it’s OK. If the artist doesn’t really feel it, there is no obligation to do it. The main obligation of an artist is to make good art. Their obligation is to give their best in the songs, in the lyrics, in the arrangements, in everything that makes up a song. Now, if you feel like talking about women’s rights or human rights, education, health rights, the environment, whatever you want, then all the better, I say, because music is very powerful and young people do listen. And I think that many people have been inspired by Maná to protect the environment or think globally and act locally.
Is it exciting for you to see a new generation of artists, like Christian Nodal and Edén Muñoz, sing your songs, as they’re doing on your duet album?
They’re paying homage to Maná’s songs even though they weren’t even born when the songs were made. There is “Eres Mi Religión,” with Joy [Huerta]; “Rayando el Sol” was beautiful with Pablo Alborán; “Clandestino” with Edén Muñoz is more reminiscent of Mexican music. Christian Nodal I think is a very authentic guy, a good singer who sings from the heart. And we knew that he really liked Maná. So in this album of duets, which is more focused on Mexican music, we invited him to sing “Te lloré un Río,” and the song was so beautiful because Sergio Vallín and Christian added all this Mexican instrumentation and fusion.
You’ve told me you would like to record a duet with Coldplay’s Chris Martin. Who else is on your dream collaboration list?
Last Friday, I heard U2 at the Sphere in Las Vegas, and Bono’s singing is amazing. That would be another one to tap into and see what happens. I love Bruno Mars, too. On the new album, we’re not doing many duets, just two or three. We’re writing. We’re addicted to making music.
If there’s one word that Usher personifies, it’s “cool.” The word applies to his still-captivating vocals, deep catalog of multigenerational R&B/pop hits, fluid footwork, keen fashion sense — all of which I witnessed firsthand while watching Usher and his team rehearse for the launch of his first Las Vegas residency almost three years ago. Despite the pressure-cooker atmosphere inherent in that gamble — including lingering pandemic-related challenges — the eight-time Grammy Award winner remained chill and in control. So it makes sense that Usher would be just as unflappable on the eve of performing before the largest audience of his career: at the Apple Music Super Bowl LVIII Halftime Show.
“It’s more about anticipation than jitters,” Usher says matter-of-factly in early January, having already logged a month of rehearsals in Los Angeles, Las Vegas and Atlanta. “I’m so ready for it to happen. I just want to sing louder than I’ve ever sang; dance harder than I’ve ever danced. I want to celebrate the 30 years of this career where I’m very fortunate to have made songs and moments with people that they will remember forever.”
When he started his My Way residency at The Colosseum at Caesars Palace in July 2021, the coronavirus pandemic was far from over — audiences were still “in a life depression,” as he puts it. Two years and one bigger venue (Dolby Live at Park MGM) later, My Way finished as a massive success — and Usher is clearly ready for an even bigger stage. “What an amazing crescendo,” he marvels. “I played 100 shows in Las Vegas [across both residencies], and my 101st will be the Super Bowl.”
The crescendo won’t end there. This year marks the 30th anniversary of his self-titled debut album. And on the eve of the halftime show, the singer-songwriter will release his much anticipated, long-gestating new project, Coming Home — the first on his own label, mega, in partnership with music industry veteran Antonio “L.A.” Reid and in association with gamma., helmed by former Apple executive Larry Jackson. The gamma. deal, which Usher and Reid signed in February 2023, is the latest in a series of entrepreneurial ventures, including Flipper’s Roller Boogie Palace, that Usher has been lining up for the next phase of his career. And on Aug. 20, Usher will embark on the just-announced Past Present Future tour, playing 24 arena dates across the United States (with more dates to be announced).
Usher’s mother, Jonnetta Patton — who took him to LaFace Records when he was 13 and managed him for 17 years (he’s currently managed by Ron Laffitte of Laffitte Management Group) — isn’t surprised by her son’s stunning trajectory. “He could really sing at a young age,” she explains. “I said, ‘This is your next star. This is the next Michael Jackson.’ ” She adds with a laugh, “People said, ‘His mom’s crazy.’ ”
When puberty claimed Usher’s vocal range, everyone around him (including, at least momentarily, Usher himself) thought his career was over before it had even started — except for Patton, who made sure the label secured a vocal coach to help him find his voice again. “It was so depressing for him; he almost lost his record deal,” she recalls. “But Usher fought. He was truly determined and dedicated to the goal that he set for himself: that one day everyone would know his name. He stayed the course. [Today], he’s a true performer who has no fear.”
Bottega Veneta shirt, Alexander McQueen pants, Fear of God sunglasses, Jacquie Aiche and Veert jewelry.
Sami Drasin
To his legion of fans who sent four of his albums to the top of the Billboard 200 and nine of his songs to No. 1 on the Billboard Hot 100, Usher’s staying power was never in question. But in the past 12 years, since 2012’s Looking 4 Myself and after two albums (Hard II Love and A) that weren’t massive hits like his earlier projects, he has experienced an indisputable renaissance in tandem with his residencies. And those 100 shows set the stage perfectly for the Feb. 9 release of Coming Home, which coincides with the 20th anniversary of his RIAA diamond-certified 2004 classic, Confessions. Usher’s first solo album since 2016’s Hard II Love (and first studio project since 2018’s A with Zaytoven), Coming Home is, like Confessions, executive-produced by Usher and Reid (who dropped by the singer’s Billboard photo shoot but declined to be interviewed for this story). However, it’s most certainly not a sequel, one of the rumors that swirled in the long lead-up to its announcement.
The 20 tracks — which serve up R&B, hip-hop, pop, funk, Afrobeats and amapiano — include three recent releases: the R&B hit “Good Good” with Summer Walker and 21 Savage, the remix of the Michael Jackson-esque “Standing Next to You” with Jung Kook and the tender ballad “Risk It All” featuring H.E.R. from the Color Purple soundtrack album. But with the pulsating rush of tracks like “Keep on Dancin’,” the album delivers what fans continue to love about Usher: his emotive vocals, relatable lyrics and danceable beats. Standouts include the thematic title track with Burna Boy, a fun pairing with rap force Latto on the upbeat “A-Town Girl” (which contains elements of Billy Joel’s “Uptown Girl”), breakup song and next single “Ruin” featuring Nigerian singer-songwriter Pheelz and “Kissing Strangers,” a striking reflection on a relationship’s aftermath.
The lattermost, a holdover from a stockpile of songs that Usher was considering for his then-untitled new album in 2021, was co-produced by the late busbee. Known primarily for his work with pop and country artists like P!nk, Maren Morris and Keith Urban, busbee might seem an unusual choice for Usher — but for the reinvigorated singer, such collaborators are part of a push to experiment more with different genres and rhythms while “digging deeper in what I choose to write about.” That doesn’t mean Usher is abandoning what has gotten him this far: The album is full of reunions with the R&B vets who helped craft his earlier successes, like Jermaine Dupri, Bryan-Michael Cox, The-Dream, Christopher “Tricky” Stewart and Pharrell Williams.
“[Malcolm] Gladwell talks about the 10,000 hours rule for becoming the ultimate expert in one’s field or craft,” gamma.’s Jackson says, referencing the author’s best-selling Outliers: The Story of Success. “And Usher has achieved his 10,000 hours of mastery. He exudes it. He’s sitting at the top of his mountain — the first independent artist to ever play the Super Bowl.” And even at this point in his career, milestones like that still matter to Usher.
Fear of God jacket, pants and shoes, and Dolce & Gabbana gloves.
Sami Drasin
How did your residency prepare you for this global performance?
I’m happy that I’m coming off a successful residency, which helped me prepare and get into the rhythm of it overall. Otherwise, I would have had to restart and relive moments. But going on that stage every Wednesday, Friday and Saturday reminded me of what my music has meant, how people feel about me and how I feel about it all. After years and years of doing this, you can grow tired and frustrated, especially as music changes the standards of how we count what’s hot, what’s cool or what’s not. All of those things can get to your mind and make you even question if you really want to continue to do it. But when I went to Las Vegas, it just made me excited about all of it all over again.
Any hints you can share about what viewers can expect?
It will definitely be an event. There are special guests. And I’ve considered new songs. But you know, it’s 12 to 15 minutes. So it’s really hard to determine what moment matters more than others, especially with a new song. But there’s the dance, the wardrobe, the lighting, how long you stay in a song, the fact that the audience may sing along … It’s a lot. So I’m trying my hardest not to overthink it.
Did you get in touch with other halftime performers for pointers?
I’ve happened to be around a few people who’ve played the Super Bowl, and they did give me some pointers. I also happened to be on a boat not too long ago with Katy Perry, who gave me some notes. I heard that Rihanna stood up for me [in a December interview with E! News] and said something really incredible [about Usher’s qualifications for the gig]. I really appreciated that. I’ve watched every performer, analyzing how they maximized those 12 minutes. But you know, your moment is your moment. And this is a moment I’ve prepared for during the last 30 years.
Usher photographed on January 5, 2024 at 1859 Bel Air Road in Los Angeles. Dolce & Gabbana suit, Calvin Klein shirt, ETAI mask, Fear of God gloves and shoes, Versace sunglasses and Jacquie Aiche jewelry.
Sami Drasin
Which past halftime performances stand out the most for you?
All of them start with the idea that the Super Bowl changed when Michael Jackson performed. I’ve enjoyed Prince, Coldplay, Beyoncé, Bruno Mars, Madonna. There are tons of things that I was able to pick up on, from looking at how they chose to enter, what they did while they were onstage and how they chose to close. But the one that really stands out is Michael. Before then, they just hired a random band or whoever. Michael brought in his own director, obviously paid a lot of money and spent a lot of time designing that incredible moment. He reframed how we look at the Super Bowl live performance.
What components must a Super Bowl halftime show have to resonate with viewers?
You should have hit records. (Laughs.) I always say that a new song is a bit of a risk. But then, Beyoncé played something fairly new [“Formation,” at the Coldplay-headlined Super Bowl 50 in 2016], which I thought was really interesting, and The Weeknd did a pretty cool job as well. You also need to have a singalong moment. I think every Super Bowl should have a live band and your mic has to be on, or should be, because people want to connect with you. They want to feel it’s live and in the moment. And every halftime performance should have dancing. Even if the artist isn’t doing that, you have to have some sort of choreography.
Is there one song that you still love to sing and dance to the most?
I love to perform all my songs. But to this day, I still love “U Got It Bad.” I think because of the connection between me and the audience. Then the fact that the song kind of reinvented the ballad in a way because it’s almost like a tempo [song]. It was no longer like a slow, sultry singalong ballad about emoting. It has rhythm and I dance to it; that’s the other side. And the fact that people sing it the way that they do when I’m performing it, they feel a connection to it and it feels real. When it all comes together — the song, the connecting message to the audience, the dance — it almost feels like classical music.
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It’s now the eve of releasing Coming Home. What can fans expect from 2024 Usher?
Every album offers a bit of where I was in my life and what I felt I wanted to share. But this is the first time that I’ve ever felt so comfortable to just be where I am. I’m 100% in my skin. And after 30 years, it shouldn’t even be a question about whether this is going to be greater than something in my past. And I don’t mean that in a derogatory way. I’m just saying it’s hard because every time you put out an album, you’re trying to figure out how not to mess up what you’ve done in the past. And I don’t want to think like that.
I just want to love what I do, make what I love, allow people to come to my space and see what I have to offer. You might identify with it. It may help you deal with some of the sh-t you may be going through, or it may be helpful in making a baby or just having a good time. (Laughs.) I’m not thinking of this album in comparison to anything other than what it is: uniquely its own. And it’s a hard thing, especially when you’ve amassed an audience that goes all the way from “OMG” to “Think of You.” Now I want [the audience] to come back to see me one more time and know that I came home to this space where I’m comfortable.
This is your first solo album since 2016. What have you learned about yourself musically that has brought you to this comfortable, creative space?
That there are new genres that I can play in; ideas and collaborations, rhythms and things that I can participate in and not be beholden to just the overall standard of creating the classic R&B album. I learned that how people listen to music is really a snapshot nowadays. So you have to kind of change your approach of how you even sequence songs; people don’t even necessarily know the difference between a hook and a bridge. Therefore, the way I’m creating is being adjusted a bit because where I was, I am no longer, and the producers that I work with, they’re no longer there either. We’re in a new space. What I also have learned is, don’t hold on to music so damn long. You’ve got to let it go. I worked literally for about four to five years just collecting music [for this album].
I’m comfortable because I’m in my own zone, on my own throne. I did it my way. I’m quoting myself. (Laughs.) I have nothing to prove. I’m not racing time. If there’s any question about whether a 45-year-old artist can release music and still be relevant: I’ve been releasing music over the last year that’s definitely connected in a different way. I hope that sets a precedent for artists who are my age. I sing harder and with more precision than I’ve ever done on this album.
Custom jacket and gloves, Saint Laurent shirt, Purple Brand pants, Veert jewelry and Dolce & Gabbana sunglasses and brooches.
Sami Drasin
What’s your take on R&B’s rebound over the last couple of years, with next-gen artists like SZA, Coco Jones, Victoria Monét, H.E.R. and Brent Faiyaz? Where will the genre evolve from here?
I’m very happy that there’s a new installation of R&B artists who care to be authentic to what they are creating, inspired by artists of the past. Everybody who has ever said to me that R&B is dead sounds crazy. Especially when I know the origins of R&B are in all other genres of music.
It’s about creating commerce in other spaces. Lovers & Friends [where Usher will perform Confessions in full in May] is a successful R&B festival that gives you a place to go and celebrate the songs that we make. We need things that you associate with R&B that you can buy into. Like with hip-hop — glasses, clothes, cars, jewelry, sneakers … ancillary things that people can access. R&B needs and has the potential to have those things as well.
My point is, I never felt like R&B was dying. I think it just needs expansion. We’re moving toward a standard where people are looking at snippets — TikTok, Instagram and other things — and when fans get it, they take it and do something with it. But if we start to think of it that way and create from that place, the standards for R&B will change. You won’t be able to compare it in an old-versus-new way. It’ll just be what it is.
What prompted your transition from major-label to indie artist as a label owner with mega and reteaming with L.A. Reid?
I wanted to do something that I felt would represent R&B and come from a place of passion. L.A. [who also consulted on the My Way residency] and I had talked about working together again. He was managing a few artists and still working on his production company, HitCo. This would be a journey that would require us resetting a second on our next go-round because we had worked together other times with Justin [Bieber] and on other projects. But he and I would find and develop artists who represent this new standard. And as the first artist on mega, I’d be the first up to bat. It seemed ambitious. But I couldn’t think of a better partner or better music man with amazing ears.
L.A. also has incredible sensibility in developing artists because he set the standard at LaFace Records for the artist I am and the way I think of entertainment. Then we managed to connect Voltron (laughs) with Larry Jackson, and it just went to another level because he had a similar interest in wanting to invest in artists and their creative; to pull from some of the things that we’ve done in our paths to create sustainable artists and teach them together. We have a studio in L.A. and Atlanta; we’re looking for artists and are very excited about the potential of building some incredible things together.
You reportedly sold your interest in Bieber’s catalog to HarbourView. Moving forward, do you plan to invest in technology and other music-related ventures?
I’ve never publicly made that statement [about Bieber]. However, I am at an incubation space in my life, looking for new ventures, new ideas, partnering with people who have like-minded interests in entertainment, not just for music but hopefully with the NFL, NBA [Usher holds a minority stake in the Cleveland Cavaliers] or other ventures. I think that we need a Black-owned team somewhere. A minority share is great, don’t get me wrong. I love it. But to at least have one team that is owned by minorities in a way that’s significant, continues to grow and you feel it — I would love to know that there is a minority and/or majority [interest] that is all Black.
Jimmy Iovine, Liberty Ross and I started a brand of skating rinks called Flipper’s, and we’re in the process of launching a skate specifically through Flipper’s. Every year now, during the hot season, we flip Rockefeller Center in New York into a skating rink. We flipped the Hollywood Palladium to a rink for Grammy Week last year, and we’re looking to do more of that. We also opened a rink in London. And I’m working on an official opening of a skating rink here in America. It is so important for people to realize that you need to smile and enjoy yourself. And the only way that I know I can pull that out of everybody is with skates.
Dolce & Gabbana suit, Calvin Klein shirt, ETAI mask, Fear of God gloves and shoes, Versace sunglasses and Jacquie Aiche jewelry.
Sami Drasin
Is your Las Vegas residency on hiatus for now?
Hopefully, we will continue to have a successful festival in Las Vegas with Lovers & Friends. I have roots there. I really did enjoy my time in Las Vegas. Am I going to go back, if I ever do, in the same way? No. I’m not planning on doing that right now. I do love what I’m seeing in Las Vegas with the type of curated experiences that are getting a front stage that they didn’t before. Love what Bruno Mars and Boyz II Men were able to do in Las Vegas and, now, to see New Edition and Wu-Tang [Clan] coming in. I love Vegas. It has an opportunity to be a cultural foundation for experiences that are not just about music but about entertainment, about other ancillary things that you experience. That’s the long of it. The short of it is, I’ll be back in Vegas someday.
Looking back now, what are the takeaways from your 30-years-and-counting career?
I really do enjoy what I do. And I don’t take kindly to the fact that people at times have doubted it. But it has definitely been motivating for me to continue to push to be great. To make something that was great and surround myself with people who don’t just want to see what I saw or what they saw but are invested in what’s happening currently and in the future. They’re invested in affirmations, being able to speak things into existence. To look in the mirror at yourself and say it, believe it. Then have the courage to not just hope but believe in what you were saying and staying invested in that. We’re as powerful as we choose to be. That’s what got me here. I just believed and didn’t pay attention to what anybody else had to say.
Location: 1859 Bel Air Road, Los Angeles @1859BelAirRd. Developer: Sean Balakhani @balakhani_estates. Architect: Mandi Rafati @tagfront. Interior Designer: Cesar Giraldo @cesargiraldodesign. Agents: Aaron Kirman, AKG, Christie’s International Real Estate @AaronKirman and Mauricio Umansky, The Agency RE @Mumansky18.
This story will appear in the Feb. 10, 2024, issue of Billboard.
A sea of tweens and teens (with a few parents in tow) covered every inch of Chicago’s Aragon Ballroom on Nov. 17. Those closest to the stage had stood outside for hours, braving the rapidly dropping temperatures of a typical Midwest fall day as they waited in an entry line that circled around the block. They were there for a therapy session with Ivan Cornejo, the 19-year-old Mexican American artist who has become the unofficial therapist for a generation, providing a healing space at his shows with songs about love and heartbreak. Cornejo, who is soft-spoken and considerably shy, looked the part of a therapist clad in gray slacks, a dark dressy shirt and a piece of fabric wrapped around like a headband that has become part of his signature onstage look.
That night was his second sold-out show at the Aragon as part of his U.S. Terapia Tour, and it was indeed therapy for the fans in attendance, who shed a few tears throughout the night while also singing every song at the top of their lungs. Cornejo performed his Gen Z-approved anthems, like “Donde Estás (Where Are You)” and “Perro Abandonado (Abandoned Dog),” powered by moody sierreño guitars, but he also covered the 2006 folk-pop classic “Hey There Delilah” by the Plain White T’s and Jesse & Joy’s 2011 Latin pop ballad “¡Corre!,” showcasing the remarkable versatility that has made him one of regional Mexican music’s most eclectic acts today.
Born in Riverside, Calif., to Mexican parents, Cornejo epitomizes the modern música mexicana artist. He has embraced the traditional instruments, including the requinto and other acoustic guitars, that have long powered the regional Mexican sound, but has also given the enduring genre an alternative edge, incorporating electric guitars and darker, emo-like lyrics for a sad sierreño approach that has connected with his young and zealous fan base.
“A lot of my influences came from regional Mexican, but it is hard to just identify as just that,” says Cornejo, who broke out in 2021 with his first single, “Está Dañada (She Is Damaged),” which landed him a No. 1 entry on Billboard’s Latin Songwriters chart dated Oct. 30, 2021, while also becoming the second regional Mexican song to appear on the all-genre Hot 100. “All the genres that I listen to, like country and rock, have inspired me. My sound is regional Mexican with a twist.”
His experimentation has paid off. The singer-songwriter has placed 13 songs on the Hot Latin Songs chart, and his second album, Dañado, was No. 1 on Regional Mexican Albums for 37 nonconsecutive weeks, the fourth-most since the chart launched in 1985. The 2022 Billboard Latin Music Awards crowned him new artist of the year, he has generated 1.6 billion on-demand official streams in the United States, according to Luminate. Cornejo landed at No. 10 on Billboard’s 2023 year-end Top Latin Artists chart.
This digital cover story is part of Billboard’s Genre Now package, highlighting the artists pushing their musical genres forward — and even creating their own new ones.
In August, following his Lollapalooza debut and on the heels of his Terapia trek, Cornejo signed with Interscope Records (he was previously signed to independent label Manzana Records), a significant and timely partnership for the mainstream label that, two months before, had added Karol G to its roster. Signing Cornejo felt like an acknowledgement of Mexican music’s global expansion in the past year, which has been led by a new generation of artists like Cornejo who are evolving the genre’s look and sound. In the first half of 2023, overall consumption of regional Mexican music jumped 42.1%, topping all other genres but K-pop.
“I’ve worked in Mexican music for many years and if you tried to step out of the regional Mexican circle 20 years ago, you would get punished,” explains Interscope executive vp Nir Seroussi. “I’m open-minded, but it was hard to think how the next generation would connect with this style of music. Now, here’s this kid who is borrowing from the roots and making it his own and there’s nothing forced about it. It feels powerful and authentic. Ivan could’ve chosen any other path, folk or indie rock, but for whatever reason, he chose regional Mexican as his starting point. But it doesn’t define him — he is defined by his songs and his guitar. I see Ivan expanding the range of Mexican music and that’s what makes it so much fun nowadays.”
After wrapping up his tour on Nov. 22 with a record-breaking concert at Toyota Arena in Ontario, Calif., becoming what the venue says is the highest-selling single Latin music show in its history, Cornejo is now focused on recording his third album — which he promises will be even “bigger” than Dañado thanks to “improvements musically and lyrically.” While the core of his sound will continue to be Mexican music, he isn’t letting genre labels box him in, and is eager to experiment with reggaetón and house music: “I have a lot of respect for artists that can do more than one genre. It’s not easy.”
Michael Buckner
While your music often falls under the música mexicana label, your sound is eclectic. What do you think helped define it?
I grew up listening to a bunch of different genres. My mom loved listening to pop, rock en español. My dad would listen to more regional stuff like Los Bukis, Vicente Fernández. My brother would listen to rock [and] alternative, like Metallica, and my sister was more into psychedelic EDM, almost. A mix of everything. I loved music while I was growing up and it was natural the way it came about.
You learned to play the guitar on YouTube. How complicated is that for someone who wants to follow in your footsteps?
I was 7 years old when I learned how to play. At first, I’d watch tutorials for the basics but when it came to learning entire songs, it was more of just watching the artist or musician play the guitar and copy what they did. Also, a lot of older songs didn’t have tutorials. I remember my dad would ask me to learn to play songs by Joan Sebastian or Los Bukis and he’d pay me $5 for a song. I mean, for a 7-year-old that was a lot of money. It was kind of my way of making $20 for the weekend. I was collecting some royalties back then. (Laughs.) But I also really loved music, so it never felt like a chore.
After you wrote your first song, who did you first show it to?
I showed my friends, and they motivated me to just keep making my own music. They were the first ones to say, “You’re kind of good.” I didn’t believe them at first but a part of me did, so that motivated me. I kept showing them the songs I was writing and asking what they thought. I was a little nervous to show them, but it wasn’t anything like an audition or anything too serious — if they didn’t like it, cool. It just meant I had to keep trying.
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Besides your father, your friends also exposed you to regional Mexican music. Tell me about your connection with the genre.
When they started showing me, it was around when T3R Elemento was dropping music. Their [2017] song “Rafa Caro” stood out to me. I thought, “I actually like this.” At the time, I wasn’t really listening to regional music; it was more like my dad’s mariachi or traditional music. A couple of years later, when Natanael Cano dropped [his 2019 album] Corridos Tumbados, it changed everything for me. He really took a big step and just changed the whole style of corridos. A lot of people adapted to that quickly.
Once you established your sound, how did you go on to make this a full-time career? Who helped you get everything up and running?
I started posting my videos [singing covers] on TikTok and Instagram. After I started getting recognition and seeing a lot of comments supporting me, it motivated me to write my own music. I dropped my first song three years ago, and that song was a big change for me. I was just doing TikToks and then labels started reaching out. It was like a mini dream come true. It was what I always wanted. I remember being 9 years old, playing the guitar, not knowing the music industry or how to get into it. I would always think, “Once I’m older, I’ll know how.”
Given your age and your fans’ age, do you think they are more open to hearing a lot of different sounds from you versus expecting only one thing?
I feel like Gen Z is fearless when it comes to listening to genres. I would hope they’re not expecting just one specific style from me. But I also have to find a way to experiment without catching them off guard. I need to do it gradually; that way I don’t scare them off.
Do you still try to listen to a variety of music?
I feel like my taste in music is always expanding. Every day I find a song that is different than what I’m normally listening to. The more variety you have, the better the chance of creating new unique music [yourself]. I listen to Miley Cyrus, she’s cool. Lana Del Rey. I remember watching The Great Gatsby and falling in love with her song “Young and Beautiful.” She has those songs that take you somewhere both emotionally and mentally.
Michael Buckner
Are there other producers or artists you’d like to work with?
There’s a couple, like Tainy and James Blake. Also, it’d be an honor to have RYX produce one of my songs. I would also love to collaborate with Post Malone or Miley Cyrus.
You wrapped your Terapia Tour in November. What was the inspiration behind that name?
I would see a lot of comments on social media from my fans, writing comments like, “Your music saved me.” They’re talking about my music like it’s some sort of therapy. So, I made each concert into a session. At the meet-and-greet they’d tell me their stories, which is heartwarming. Some are really sad stories. It made me realize how much power you have in helping these young kids with things they might be going through. I’m at home but my music will always be with them. It’s something I think about a lot. I really don’t want to let them down.
Música mexicana is massive. How do you want to move it forward?
The charts are full of Mexican artists. I’m excited for next year to drop the album and be part of that massive moment. As of right now, my sound is sad sierreño but next year it could change and might not feel or sound like sad sierreño — it could be more alternative, rock and a bit more like all my influences.
What does it mean when you hear that you can move an entire culture forward with your lyrics and your style of Mexican music?
It’s a great role but also a big one. A lot of pressure. But I think I will do my best doing things that feel natural to me.
“Is Laufey jazz?”
This was a recent topic among the armchair musicologists of Reddit’s r/Jazz thread, who spend much of their time debating the genre. It’s also the title of a 33-minute deep dive by YouTuber and musician Adam Neely where he dissects the 24-year-old cellist, singer and songwriter’s harmonic and chordal choices on a granular, theoretical level in an attempt to answer the question too.
Trying to neatly categorize whether Laufey (pronounced LAY’-vay) makes music that is jazz or something else misses the point of what she is doing. Laufey is building a modern and surprisingly lucrative musical world out of old-school building blocks — ii-V-I jazz chords, classical music motifs, bebop ad-libs — plus more than a pinch of Taylor Swift-ian storytelling.
But it’s Laufey’s wider aesthetic world — “Laufey Land,” as she calls it — that a remarkable number of Gen Z fans are flocking to. While traditional jazz can feel esoteric, Laufey makes it accessible by inviting followers into Laufey Land on social media — a place where her best days involve sipping lattes, reading Joan Didion and wearing the latest styles from Sandy Liang, and where listening to Chet Baker and playing the cello are the absolute coolest, hippest things to do. “It’s all kind of illustrative of my life and my music,” she says, and she shares both online generously.
Laufey Land (which has also become the name of her official fan HQ Instagram account) has also captured the imagination of the music business: sources say she sparked a multimillion-dollar bidding war last year among record labels that have rarely seen so much commercial potential in a jazz-adjacent act, though she remains independent for now. Perhaps that’s because her music renders a wistful, romantic portrait of young adulthood that can feel fantastical yet still within reach. And even if you’re not quite familiar with her own lofty influences — Chopin, Liszt, Baker, Fitzgerald, Holiday — Laufey invites you to sit with her, listen along and get lost in a magical place where, sure, the music is jazz-y, but is also so much more than that.
Raised between Iceland and the Washington, D.C., area, Laufey Lín Jónsdóttir grew up surrounded by classical musicians. Her Chinese mother is a violinist, and her grandparents were violin and piano professors; it was her Icelandic father who introduced her to jazz. “There was just so much music in the house growing up,” she recalls today. “It was a sonic blend of those two.”
Laufey and her identical twin sister, Junia — who now acts as Laufey’s creative director and is a frequent guest star in her TikToks — started playing young. Eventually Junia landed on violin and Laufey on cello (though she also plays piano and guitar). Until college, she saw herself more as a performer and practitioner of music than as a writer of it. But at the Berklee College of Music in Boston, she found many of her new friends were penning their own songs.
This digital cover story is part of Billboard’s Genre Now package, highlighting the artists pushing their musical genres forward — and even creating their own new ones.
Though Laufey says she always listened to pop music as well — she especially loved the storybook tales of early Swift songs — she felt that “oftentimes the lyrics and the storytelling resonated, but the sound [of pop music] wasn’t completely there. I didn’t feel like it was something I could make, and I wanted to make something that sounded more like me.” A self-described “sheltered orchestra kid,” she also didn’t yet have much life experience to expound upon lyrically.
Like so many artists before her, Laufey says she was finally propelled into songwriting when she had her heart broken. Borrowing chords closely related to the Great American Songbook that she had spent so much time studying already, she created “Street by Street,” which eventually became her first single. She was 20 years old. “The way I wanted to write was to find this middle ground between the very old and the very new,” she says. “I remember thinking, ‘Wow, you can do this. You can write something new in the style of George Gershwin or Irving Berlin — something older.’ ”
When COVID-19 hit and forced everyone into lockdown, school ended, and to stay in vocal shape, Laufey began posting her takes on jazz standards online, her smooth alto accompanied by either cello arrangements or acoustic guitar. “The day I got back from school and started isolating, I told myself, ‘OK, I’m just going to write and post as many videos online of me singing jazz standards as I can,’ ” she recalls. “I’ll just see where it takes me.” An early video of her singing “It Could Happen to You” “hit some sort of algorithm,” as she puts it, and quickly, her following grew, attracting interest from a number of record labels, though she opted to sign to AWAL instead.
Today — one EP, two studio albums and one live album with the Iceland Symphony Orchestra later — Laufey is quite possibly the most popular artist making jazz or jazz-adjacent music, according to metrics like Spotify monthly listeners (24 million) and Instagram and TikTok followers (2.2 million and 3.6 million, respectively). Her breakout single, the bossa nova-inspired “From the Start,” is a massive hit, with 313.1 million on-demand official global streams, according to Luminate. And she’s now a Grammy nominee: Her second album, Bewitched, released in September 2023, is up for best traditional pop vocal album, an eclectic category this year where she’s the one new talent alongside veterans Bruce Springsteen and Liz Callaway and the late Stephen Sondheim. “It feels very, very validating, especially in the category I’m in,” Laufey says.
Tony Luong
The debate about what genre signifiers define Laufey may still matter at the Grammys (and on the Billboard charts, which categorize her as “jazz”), but there is far less need to label music than there once was, benefiting artists like Laufey who bridge disparate sonic worlds. “I think people’s desire to categorize things into genres was so rooted in radio, where they were trying to fit into a certain format to succeed,” says Max Gredinger, Laufey’s manager and a partner at Foundations Artist Management. “I think that is kind of ingrained in us, but now that terrestrial radio has certainly diminished in impact, I think people are still wrapping their heads around this new world.”
Around the time Laufey started to build her audience, TikTok’s reign over music discovery had just taken hold. It’s a place where personality and catchiness count but genre is of no consequence — the perfect platform for an artist like Laufey where she could define her jazz-inflected pop as not just a sound but as an aesthetic, a feeling, a lifestyle both timeless and very much of the moment.
Gredinger calls Laufey and her sister “the 2024 version of what you think of as a marketing executive. I would bet on them to do that job best a trillion times over.” Beyond music and slice-of-life videos, Laufey invites her fans into her process in other ways. She has posted sheet music versions of her songs before releasing them, asking her musician fans (of which there are many) to try to learn the song without hearing any reference and post the results, which she’ll then repost in the lead-up to release day.
She also hosts a book club, with selections — from Donna Tartt’s The Secret History to Susanna Kaysen’s Girl, Interrupted — that feel akin to her music and her personal style, somewhere between darkly academic and coquettishly feminine. On the release day for Bewitched, she hosted A Very Laufey Day, a sort-of scavenger hunt around Los Angeles, involving everything she likes to do in a day. It included special Laufey Lattes, a display of her book club selections at a local shop and a merchandise pop-up at the Melrose Trading Post; at the end, she treated participants to a secret performance in West Hollywood’s Pan Pacific Park.
“It was like a normal Saturday for me,” Laufey says with a laugh. “I would’ve done all those things either way. I drove around West Hollywood and saw girls in white shirts, jeans and ballet flats carrying lattes and I would roll down the window and say hey and surprise them.” Her fans range from ultra-online teens to nerdy music majors to nostalgic grandparents, but her core base is Gen Z, many of whom do not listen to jazz or classical otherwise.
When she was younger, Laufey says, she never anticipated the mainstream popularity she has now. “If anything, I thought I would go the conservatory route, practice cello and try to get into the best orchestra I could, like my mother did,” she says. “I was so focused on being realistic that I almost didn’t allow myself to dream so big.”
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She remembers one of her first shows after pandemic lockdowns eased up, at New York’s Rockwood Music Hall, where she heard there was a line of fans outside waiting to be let in. “I was really confused,” she says. “I grew up going to symphony concerts primarily, and nobody lines up like that, you just walk in. I was like, ‘Oh, no. Let them in! What is happening?’” It was the first time she realized that her fans weren’t just a number on her screen: They would show up for her in real life, learn all the words to her songs and were shockingly young.
Norah Jones, a hero of Laufey’s and one of the few modern artists to, like her, bridge the jazz-pop divide, says she sees “a lot of similarities” between herself and Laufey. “We both come from a background steeped in jazz and have formed our own paths from there,” Jones says. “[But] because social media and streaming have changed the music industry so much, her journey is also so different from mine.” (The two recently collaborated on a set of holiday songs, Christmas With You.)
Unlike Jones, who has a long-standing relationship with Blue Note Records/Capitol Records, Laufey has opted to stay independent — a clear sign of the times. Industry sources say she recently sparked a multimillion-dollar bidding war among major labels, but she finally decided to keep her business among herself, Gredinger and AWAL (which handles label services and distribution) instead.
“With the kind of music I make,” she says, “I make very individualistic choices. I’m very confident in my music. I know what I want, and my current team at AWAL has let me make those creative decisions. I’ve had a great time being independent, so I haven’t felt like I’ve been lacking anything. Making independent decisions is my main focus.”
In the future, Laufey Land’s borders are likely to only expand further. She envisions her sweeping love songs soundtracking musicals and films someday, like Harry Connick Jr., Jon Batiste and Sara Bareilles have done. The ultimate dream? A James Bond theme. “I’ll just keep on repeating that I want that, so it manifests itself maybe,” she says, smiling.
Batiste, who also knows what it’s like to move between jazz and pop music spaces, thinks she’s on the right track. “Laufey approaches all of these many facets [of a music career] with a great deal of prowess, deftness of craft and insight into how to connect with her community,” he says. “That will only continue to attract more curious listeners.”
“I think there are a lot of barriers to entry to listening to jazz… [It] can be very daunting,” Laufey says. “I’m lucky I was born into that world, but I’m aware of how scary it can seem. It seems like something that’s reserved for maybe older or more educated audiences. I think that’s so sad, because both jazz and classical music were genres that were the popular music of one time. It was for everyone. That’s one of the reasons I want to fuse jazz and classical into my own music: I want to make a more accessible space.”
Tony Luong
She points to artists like DOMi & JD BECK and Samara Joy, young jazz talents she admires who are actively evolving the genre today. “Jazz hasn’t gone anywhere — it’s actually, I think, gone into music more,” Laufey says, pointing to its influence on hip-hop, R&B and pop. “The amount of times I hear a pop song really hitting the charts and everyone’s like, ‘It’s so good’ — in my head, I’m like, ‘Yeah, that’s because of this jazz harmony that really draws you in.’”
Her own sound borrows primarily from that of the jazz greats of the 1940s and ’50s — one reason, perhaps, why her songs connect so well. As tracks featuring sizable samples or interpolations of older hits continue to rise on the Billboard charts, experts posit that the pandemic led to an increasing interest in songs that feel nostalgic.
Though Laufey’s work sounds quite different from, say, “First Class” by Jack Harlow, the same primal desire for familiarity and comfort is at the root of its appeal. “I think a lot of the sounds that she pulls from, every person has some connection to,” Gredinger says. “You would be hard pressed to find someone who didn’t have some memory or relationship with jazz or classical. It’s a foundational experience most everyone has had, combined with modern, honest songwriting.”
And it’s the combination of those elements that create the foundation of Laufey’s own brave new world. One where true love is possible, every day is romanticized, major sevenths are essential — and all kinds of listeners are welcome.
September’s Hip-Hop Forever show at Madison Square Garden in New York — part of the yearlong celebration of the genre’s 50th anniversary — brought the stars out. Alongside legends who helped build hip-hop’s storied past was a slightly more unexpected booking: Jamaican dancehall king Sean Paul. He tore the house down with hits like “Give It Up to Me” and “Like Glue,” reminders of a time, in the early 2000s, when dancehall records topped the Billboard charts — when Paul, who has now traded his trademark cornrows for a crisp, neat Caeser, effortlessly mixed dancehall’s infectious riddims with hip-hop sensibilities and aesthetics. Blending reggae and dancehall with other popular genres wasn’t a new idea when Paul did it, but no one else besides Bob Marley and Shaggy had done so to greater effect.
At least until now. That night, Paul wasn’t the only dancehall MC to bless the stage. One of the “special guests” teased on the show’s flier was a comparatively little-known 29-year-old guy from Montego Bay, Jamaica, that most audience members couldn’t pick out of a lineup if they were promised the numbers to the next Powerball. But though silence at first overtook the crowd when he stepped onstage, Teejay looked every inch the star when he arrived.
Invited as a guest of Funkmaster Flex, the longtime Hot 97 DJ who oversaw the night’s proceedings, Teejay emerged dripped out in a Gucci jacket and matching sneakers. And when the opening chords of his current hit, “Drift,” blared out of the speakers, concertgoers slowly caught on: This was the guy who made the song that had taken over TikTok for a few months last year. As Teejay warmed up to the crowd, so did they, breaking into the signature dance that would help propel “Drift” to a No. 47 debut on Billboard’s R&B/Hip-Hop Airplay chart three weeks after the Garden performance.
It was a big night for Teejay — one that affirmed that the hard work he’d been putting in over the past three years was finally paying off. So what if few can yet recognize him by face? They recognize his music. Well, sort of.
“Most people still don’t know what I’m saying,” says Teejay with a laugh, thinking back to the Garden show. We’re in Los Angeles, meeting for the second time at his Billboard photoshoot, and his fit looks as if it costs more than most people’s monthly income. “But they love the vibe. They love the music. They love the sound. So, I just work with it.”
This digital cover story is part of Billboard’s Genre Now package, highlighting the artists pushing their musical genres forward — and even creating their own new ones.
Born Timoy Janeyo Jones in Montego Bay, Teejay learned early on to just work with it. To most people from outside Jamaica, Montego Bay is an idyllic resort city, but it has a shadier side that doesn’t make travel brochures or TV commercials. One in which families of nine like Teejay’s — he grew up with his mother, uncle, five brothers and one sister — live in small board houses, in sometimes dangerous neighborhoods (like Glendevon, where Teejay’s family lived). His brothers were all musicians who as kids picked up digital production and recording software like FruityLoops and Pro Tools to produce music. Naturally, Teejay took to them as well.
“I started recording myself at the age of 9,” he says. “Every day, I would come home and see them recording with Pro Tools and I’d just sit there for hours, and when they’d gone, I’d just record myself.”
Michael Buckner
The autodidactic method worked. By the time Teejay was in seventh grade, he decided to leave school behind and focus on music full time. “My teacher asked me, ‘What do you want to be in life?’ And everybody in the class said they want to be a policeman, a lawyer, a judge, a doctor. I tell the teacher I want to be an artist. She said, ‘That’s not professional. Give me something else.’ I said, ‘Entertainer!’ ” When he was supposed to be taking notes, Teejay was instead tapping out riddims on his desk. His teacher told him that he needed to take that noise to the music class — so he did.
The way he saw it, he could help his family much more financially if he dedicated his time to growing into an artist like 2Pac or the Jamaican great Jah Cure — two of the MCs idolized in his neighborhood. “Growing up in my community, we listened to 2Pac every single day. Once you’re a Montegonian, you’re going to know about 2Pac and Jah Cure music.”
His focus paid off when Tommy Lee — fellow Montegonian and controversial mentee of incarcerated dancehall star Vybz Kartel — let Teejay rock with him and his crew, even helping the fledgling artist score his first live performance in 2010. The experience left Teejay feeling like he could actually become a star. But it would take a good while longer before the dreams in his mind materialized outside of his head.
Steve Jobs famously said, “Good artists copy, great artists steal.” Teejay watched the artists who were remaking dancehall in the early 2000s — artists like Movado, Aidonia, Busy Signal and Tommy Lee, who were all more different than similar — and studied what made them connect not only with Jamaican fans, but the throngs of dancehall fans around the world. He took bits and pieces from each one’s style, creating a dancehall sound that was fluid, melodic and, at times, lyrically crazy.
Over the next eight years, he produced a torrent of music, culminating in his 2018 regional hit, “Uptop Boss.” Though it didn’t make much noise in the United States, the slinky gangster dance track was a massive hit on the island; its official video has racked up over 16 million views on YouTube.
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Then, tragedy struck: Two of Teejay’s close friends, who often appeared in his videos and lyrics — Romario “Grimmy Boss” Wallen and Philip “Afro-Man” Lewis — were gunned down in St. Andrew, Jamaica, on June 4, 2020. (The two were reportedly just hanging out on the block when a shooter pulled up and opened fire.) Condolences poured out from fans and fellow dancehall artists, with many posting photos and comments on Instagram. But Teejay went quiet: He deleted everything on his Instagram page except for two posts of his departed friends.
Wallen’s and Lewis’ deaths derailed Teejay’s momentum just as he was finding his footing as an artist — but they were also a wake-up call. He took time away from music, leaving the country for a bit and settling at a friend’s house in Miami to refocus his energy and clear his head. His friends’ deaths affected both his physical and mental health: He changed his diet and started to eat healthier, in turn losing a lot of weight. But the biggest change wasn’t what he was putting into his body — it was what he put into the world.
He no longer wanted to make music that was overtly gangster. “Hardcore music has a barrier,” he says. “It can’t be played in a Christian home or in certain homes. I decided that we’re not going to go violent; I want to do something happy.” To achieve that, he decided to make some changes — starting with who handled his business. “Jamaican artists don’t even know what a proper management is,” Teejay says. “As a Jamaican artist, we have to still go out there and look for a chauffeur ourselves and an interview, everything. Some people don’t even know that some people in Jamaica who say that they’re a manager are basically a booking agent.”
Sharon Burke, the leader of Teejay’s new management team since 2021, is much more than a booking agent. Co-founder and president of the Kingston, Jamaica-based Solid Agency, Burke has worked for years to bring reggae and dancehall music to a global audience. She has had a hand in the success of many of Jamaica’s biggest superstars, including Freddie McGregor, Barrington Levy, Bounty Killer and Aidonia. And her company produces the annual Island Music Conference, bringing the wider music world to Jamaica. When it came time to set up the Verzuz battle between Bounty Killer and Beanie Man — ultimately watched by over 3 million — it was Burke who Verzuz creators Swizz Beatz and Timbaland turned to.
Burke believes in Teejay — that he has what it takes to really leave a mark on the game much as some of her previous clients have — but she has impressed upon him that good music alone won’t take him to the top “I said, ‘Listen, if you’re just going to sit by and think it’s talent alone, I can’t work with you. It’s hard work. It’s about presentation. It’s about excellence. It’s about choreography in the way you move. So, if you’re ready for that journey, I will go it with you.’ ”
Michael Buckner
One of the first things Burke did was to connect Teejay with Panda, one of their in-house producers. While Teejay was in Miami getting his mind right, he began to think beyond the boundaries of the genre he’d worked within for so long. He loves dancehall — it’s the music he was raised on and the music that changed his life — but he understands that, right now, dancehall and reggae aren’t as popular as they once were.
Back in 2003 — when Sean Paul was hopping on remixes with Busta Rhymes, when LL Cool J jumped on Wayne Wonder’s “No Letting Go” remix, when Elephant Man had everyone ponning de river — new dancehall artists were making serious waves in rap and R&B music. Fast forward to 2021, when the bestselling reggae and dancehall artists in the United States were Paul, Bob Marley and Shaggy. No new artists broke onto the Billboard Hot 100 that year.
Now, another type of Black diasporic music, Afrobeats, has assumed the position reggae and dancehall once occupied. Over the past three years, an increasing number of new African artists have broken onto the charts with big singles, like Wizkid and Tems’ 2020 hit, “Essence,” the first Nigerian song in history to appear on the Hot 100, reaching No. 9 on the chart. Now, mainstream American rappers like Drake and Future and singers like Chris Brown are tapping the genre’s ascendant stars to help them move units. Future’s first Hot 100 No. 1 as a lead artist, for instance, came courtesy of a song that heavily samples Tems’ song “Higher” from her 2020 EP, Broken Ears.
“They’re saying now that Afrobeats is bigger than dancehall,” Teejay says. “I was at a show where there was an Afrobeats artist on the stage — I won’t say any names — and he was saying ‘our music is your music’ because they took pieces of all the legendary [dancehall] artists’ music.”
He took to the makeshift studio in the garage of his friend’s Miami house, puzzling over a riddim he’d had in his head for close to three years but couldn’t quite figure out how to translate into a workable beat. He wanted to make something that was new but also paid homage to the warm dancehall feeling that radiated from songs made by legends like Supacat and Shabba Ranks. Then, one day in 2022, he received a batch of beats from Panda. “I called the beat-maker and said, ‘Bro. You got it. This is good.’ ”
What he got turned into “Drift,” the slick dancehall ditty that could easily be mistaken for an Afrobeats song if not for its decidedly dancehall drum programming and, of course, Teejay’s perfectly syncopated bars that swell into what has become an inescapable chorus.
“Me and the team, we created something called ‘Afro dancehall,’ ” he says with a laugh. “It’s more of an Afrobeats song with a dancehall artist on it. At the time, dancehall music was kind of slow and really toxic, based on everything that was going on in Jamaica. I was like, ‘We need to embrace happiness [in] the world. Something everyone can dance to.’ We created that old dancehall feeling where people just want to dance. It’s simple math. We used less words and more melody so people can remember it.”
That last, key idea came to Teejay from his mentor, Shaggy, the platinum-selling superstar who’s also one of Burke’s partners at Solid Agency. Combining reggae and dancehall with music from around the world and making it as simple as possible to sing along to has been a Shaggy trademark since he dropped the Marvin Gaye-sampling “Boombastic” back in 1995. “He has been telling me, ‘Listen: choice of words,’ ” Teejay says. “ ‘Try to say less, but make sure it’s effective and that people can understand it.’ ”
“[Teejay’s] incredibly talented. He’s a guy that is making music outside of the box and he also works extremely f–king hard,” Shaggy says. “And I think that is the formula that is needed to have a very long and successful career.”
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A little luck also helps, and it was on Teejay’s side when it came to promoting “Drift.” He gave the song to a DJ who then leaked it on TikTok, and it took on a life of its own, becoming a top-used sound on the platform. Soon, celebrities like Jamaican Olympic gold medalist Usain Bolt and Cardi B were making TikToks doing the dance from the music video. “Drift” became Teejay’s first Billboard chart entry, landing at No. 47 on R&B/Hip-Hop Airplay.
While the song took Jamaican and U.S. audiences by surprise, its success isn’t that shocking to Shaggy. “In the early days, when I played stadiums in Africa, the majority of the music they were playing was dancehall,” he recalls. “The traditional music that you might hear from Fela Kuti and some of these original artists over there wasn’t the type of music you would hear in the nightclubs. Dancehall is what you heard in the nightclub. Whether it be Uganda, Kenya, Tanzania, those are the songs that were played — dancehall. It has had a very strong influence on the African culture. So, to me, it’s all one.”
What does the future of dancehall look like if one of its most popular artists is co-opting the sound of another genre to make waves internationally? “If you listen to dancehall from the 2000s, it’s a totally different dancehall than what we have today. The sound of it is different,” Shaggy says. “The dancehall they make today is more a trap kind of dancehall. That’s just evolution at the end of the day. With an artist like Teejay, it gives him the opportunity to experiment and try a different vibe.”
On Dec. 15, 2023, Teejay released an official remix of “Drift” featuring none other than leading Afrobeats artist Davido (the song also has a couple of rap remixes at this point). He sounds perfectly at home on the track; if you didn’t know any better, you might assume that Teejay was the guest feature. Its success, and Teejay’s own, are proof that there’s an audience for this new sound, one that keeps dancehall’s driving groove intact while mixing in the breezy and blithe feel of Afrobeats. And if anything, it proves dancehall is at its best when pushed to new limits.
“I hope [new artists] keep experimenting and keep finding new ways,” Shaggy says. In other words, they just got to work with it.
