State Champ Radio

by DJ Frosty

Current track

Title

Artist

Current show
blank

State Champ Radio Mix

1:00 pm 7:00 pm

Current show
blank

State Champ Radio Mix

1:00 pm 7:00 pm


Cover Story

Page: 9

The scene at the Chipotle on Ventura Boulevard in the San Fernando Valley at first looked much like any other Friday evening. Six good-looking guys in their early 20s sat around a table eating burritos, laughing and ribbing one another. They had landed at LAX that morning after a 16-hour flight, but despite their jet lag, the vibe was lively.
Then an emergency alert lit up one of their cellphones. Seconds later, a warning buzzed on another device. And then another, and another, and another, and yet one more. It was Oct. 6 — already Oct. 7 on the other side of the world in Israel — and the moment things got very real for as1one, the first-ever boy band comprising Israeli and Palestinian musicians.

The guys had arrived in Los Angeles from Tel Aviv, Israel, to lay down tracks for their forthcoming debut album — a trek made following months of visa coordination and more than a year since the group officially formed, after first being conceived in the United States years prior. The team behind as1one, led by longtime music executives Ken Levitan and James Diener, envisioned a Middle Eastern version of BTS, and in the effort to create it, Israeli and Palestinian casting directors had held auditions in major cities and tiny villages throughout Israel in 2021. (Auditions could not be held in the West Bank or Gaza due to logistical challenges.) A thousand young men auditioned; the six who were glued to their phones at the Sherman Oaks Chipotle had made it in.

There’s Sadik Dogosh, a 20-year-old Palestinian Bedouin Muslim from Rahat, Israel, with a piercing gaze and an acting background. Neta Rozenblat, a Jewish Israeli who’s 22 but looks younger, grew up in Tel Aviv, where he studied computer science before getting into singing, which led to a 2021 performance on the Israeli version of The X Factor. Hailing from Haifa, Palestinian Christian Aseel Farah, 22, is the group’s rapper and its self-proclaimed introvert. Twenty-three-year-old Jewish Israeli Nadav Philips grew up near Tel Aviv, idolizes Mariah Carey and used to perform as a wedding singer. Niv Lin, 22, is a Jewish Israeli from a desert town in southern Israel and played professional basketball before shifting to singing. (He also performed on The X Factor.) And Ohad Attia, also 22 and a Jewish Israeli, grew up in Tel Aviv singing and playing the guitar, a skill he flexes beautifully in the group.

On the surface, the six young men check all the usual boy group boxes: They strike the requisite balance between dreamy and adorable and sing ballads and bangers with heart-melting harmonies about girls, love and “dancing like the whole world is watching,” as one of their songs proclaims. But while each knew they were signing up for a boundary-pushing endeavor simply by joining a group composed of Palestinians and Israelis, they couldn’t have predicted that their message of unity would be so intensely tested before they had even released any music.

When the guys went to sleep at their L.A. rental house on the night of Oct. 6, they weren’t yet sure what to make of the alerts. They had all grown up accustomed to intermittent rocket warnings that often passed without incident. But by morning, it was clear what was happening back at home had little precedent: Hamas operatives had killed about 1,200 people throughout southern Israel in coordinated attacks on villages, kibbutzes and at a music festival. (“Niv lives not far from where that rave was, so he undoubtedly would have been there,” Diener says, adding that the woman Lin had just started dating, along with other friends, was killed in the attack.) Their scheduled sightseeing tour of L.A. was canceled. Instead, the guys spent the day frantically calling and texting with friends and family back home.

As news of the Oct. 7 attacks spread, as1one was given the option to fly back to Israel as soon as possible. But after talking among themselves, they decided to stay. “In the beginning, we really felt bad that we couldn’t do anything, that we couldn’t help our families and friends in Israel,” Attia says. “But then when you think about it, you really realize we’re on a mission and that we can be helpful. We can show the world.”

Ohad Attia

Austin Hargrave

The next day, as1one went to its scheduled studio session and met with songwriter-producers Jenna Andrews and Stephen Kirk, who together have credits on mega-hits like BTS’ “Butter” and “Permission To Dance.” Andrews and Kirk had already joined as1one for writing sessions in Israel, and that familiarity helped the duo channel the group’s intense emotions into music as the horrific news from Israel continued.

“The toughest moments were during the sessions,” Rozenblat says. “I was told about two friends that were killed, Niv was told about friends of his that were killed — a lot of us found out about really awful stuff during that session, not to mention that now there’s a whole war going on.”

But by the end of the session, they had a new song. Two-and-a-half weeks later, in a sun-drenched conference room in Century City, they play it for me through a beat-up Bluetooth speaker.

“What if we just stopped the world/Hold the phone/Faced the hurt/Take me home/We’re not built for this/We’re built for more/Forget the score/Show me what it’s like when we stop the world,” the sextet sings over a pulsing beat. It’s the kind of anthem that’s vocally reminiscent of the Backstreet Boys’ heyday and thematically evocative of — depending on how you’re listening — either a tumultuous romance or the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

“How crazy is it to get hugs from Palestinian friends when my Israeli friends died?” Lin says. “That’s our story.”

Sadik Dogosh

Austin Hargrave

As1one wasn’t necessarily intended to function as a singing six-man answer to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

Seeing how K-pop and Latin music became global forces over the past few years, Levitan and Diener wanted to form a group from outside the Western world that they could build into a superstar act. They had experience with this caliber of artist: Levitan helped develop Kings of Leon, managed Bon Jovi and, as co-founder and president of Nashville-based Vector Management, has worked with Kesha, The B-52s, The Fray and more. Diener launched A&M Octone Records, where he developed acts including Maroon 5, and after the label sold its 50% share to Interscope Geffen A&M, he co-founded the music publishing and management firm Freesolo Entertainment.

Together they looked to Israel, a place, Diener says, where “we felt that what they have to say musically hadn’t really been given a shot on the world stage.” The pair weren’t seeking to create a group made up of Israelis and Palestinians — only to, as Levitan says, “leave no stone unturned” in their search for the country’s very best talent. They began traveling to Israel in late 2021, first to find the Israeli and Palestinian casting directors and consultants who could get them access to local music schools, conservatories and recording studios where they would scout talent. (They’ve been back to the country every two months since the first trip.) Ami Nir, an A&R executive at Universal Music Group in Israel, became their partner in the project and was crucial in creating connections.

Aseel Farah

Austin Hargrave

Even before meeting any prospective singers, the pair — who refer to themselves as the group’s founders and producers — encountered plenty of challenges: raising investment money, working in a foreign market (and during a global pandemic) and, above all, the historic tensions between Israelis and Palestinians. During one meeting, a potential Palestinian talent scout was so opposed to the idea of a mixed band that she flicked her cigarette ashes at Levitan and Diener.

“We were really working from negative one, not even at zero,” Levitan says of the meeting. “She was very pessimistic.” But as the two explained their history in the business and their vision for the group, the scout uncrossed her arms and listened — and, shortly thereafter, joined the team. Such unlikely changes of heart happened again and again at meetings throughout the country. “I think people felt our sincerity,” Diener says. “They didn’t feel like this was in any way a gimmick or a pretext.”

As Diener explains, assembling a group from this part of the world inherently meant being “confronted by the question of, ‘Are you willing to put together a group that may be mixed?’ ” He and Levitan agreed that they were — but that it would require choosing “the right guys who could handle and appreciate that mix of talent within the band,” Diener says.

As they narrowed down the talent pool during auditions, Levitan and Diener met with families of potential members, selling parents, siblings and extended relatives on the idea, often through translators, and many times while sitting around the family’s kitchen table after a meal.

Nadav Philips

Austin Hargrave

By this point, they had also enlisted a documentary crew to film the process; cameras were put in place after people close to Levitan and Diener suggested what they were doing “might just be historic,” Diener recalls. Ultimately, the local Israeli team was replaced with a crew from Paramount+, which has since shot hundreds of hours of footage for a forthcoming five-episode docuseries produced by James Carroll (Waco: American Apocalypse, Night Stalker: The Hunt for a Serial Killer). “It’s in no way a reality series,” Levitan says. “This is something much more thoughtful and cinematic.”

The cameras were rolling during the final phase of the audition process: a May 2022 boy band boot camp in Neve Shalom, an Israeli village founded in 1969 by Israeli Jews and Arabs to demonstrate that the two groups could live together in peace. Here, the guys played instruments, posed for photo shoots, showed off their dexterity with social media and sang together. “You’d be singing to yourself, then someone standing on the other side of the road would be doing a harmony with you,” Attia recalls.

A psychologist was on site as well, not only to ensure potential members were mentally prepared for the demanding work schedule ahead, but also to weigh in on whether they would fit well within the unique mixed-group dynamic. “There were [guys] we really wanted to work with,” Diener says, “but as their community and parents became more aware of what this was going to look like, they couldn’t endorse it in the same way they’d endorsed the audition process, so we lost a few really good prospects.” (Levitan adds that these prospects wouldn’t have necessarily made it into the group.)

A year-and-a-half after starting the scouting process, Levitan and Diener had settled on the right six guys — it was just by circumstance that four were Jewish Israelis and two Palestinian.

When Levitan and Diener Zoomed Dogosh to tell him he had been accepted, the camera crew caught him jumping around so enthusiastically that his microphone broke. “Getting accepted in the band, it was like a fever dream,” says Rozenblat, who had been tracking 25,000 steps a day while pacing around his house waiting for the news.

Neta Rozenblat

Austin Hargrave

Recording started shortly thereafter, with the guys intermittently traveling from their respective homes to a Tel Aviv studio. Philips and Lin say they had never spoken with a Palestinian person until joining as1one — a name that the guys chose from a few options that the team had come up with and that is pronounced “as one.” Over time, camaraderie grew, and by the time they gave their first live performance at a private event for TikTok Israel eight months after their inception, they were looking, sounding, moving and working the room like a band. (Levitan and Diener often use the words “brotherhood” and “unity” when describing the group’s bond.)

The bonding process ramped up in August, when as1one traveled to London to record at Abbey Road Studios with Nile Rodgers, who plays guitar on one of the songs written by Andrews and Kirk. (The session came together after Diener sent Rodgers the group’s cover of Rodgers’ Daft Punk collaboration, “Get Lucky.”) After they wrapped, Rodgers gave his guitar to as1one guitarist Attia, who says he was “literally shaking” and immediately FaceTimed his mother to tell her. (Overjoyed for her son, she cried.)

On Oct. 5, as1one boarded a flight for what was meant to be a monthlong trip to L.A. The scheduling turned out to be prescient: The team had considered flying the guys out a few days later — which, had it happened, would have put the project on perpetual hold amid a war that to date has killed around 1,200 Israelis (and claimed an estimated 240 hostages) and more than 11,000 Palestinians in Gaza, according to reports from Gaza’s Health Ministry (an agency that, as The New York Times has reported, “is part of the Hamas government in Gaza but employs civil servants who predate Hamas’ control of the territory”).

While their families remain in the increasingly precarious situation abroad, as1one is in L.A. indefinitely, living in a rented house in Sherman Oaks with Andrew Berkowitz (the group’s executive in charge of talent who was involved in casting and has more than 30 years’ experience in artist promotion at labels including RCA and Arista) and traveling to various local studios making music. “Our policy with them is whatever they need, including if they need to go home, we will make that happen,” Diener says. “There’s a lot of people keeping their eyes on them.”

The group has recorded seven songs in the four weeks since its arrival, with collaborators including Andrews, Kirk, Danja (Nelly Furtado’s “Say It Right,” Justin Timberlake’s “SexyBack,” Britney Spears’ “Gimme More”), Justin Tranter (a go-to co-writer for Justin Bieber, Selena Gomez, Maroon 5 and Imagine Dragons) and Y2K (Doja Cat’s “Attention”).

Niv Lin

Austin Hargrave

The songs as1one performs for me live in this conference room include a stirring ballad with lyrics fashioned in boilerplate boy band parlance (“I wouldn’t be me without you!”), rendered in gorgeous six-part harmony and delivered with passion. (They close their eyes a lot while singing.) When the guys launch into a peppier, sexier jam about being hot-blooded animals on the dancefloor, it’s easy enough to imagine a stadium full of fans screaming along. The songs are clever and well-constructed, and the melodies stay in my head long after the meeting is over.

The guys, along with Levitan and Diener, are quick to clarify that they’re less a “boy band” and more a “male pop group,” given that they play instruments (Attia is on acoustic and electric guitar, keyboard and drums; Lin plays keys and acoustic guitar; Philips plays keyboard; Rozenblat plays keyboard and acoustic guitar; Farah is on percussion; and Dogosh is learning piano) and don’t plan on performing choreography. And Levitan and Diener expect that the group’s story will attract a wider-than-usual fan base for an act of this kind. Still, as the duo sees it, their core fan base will likely be — in the high-pitched squealing tradition of groups like *NSYNC and Backstreet Boys — what Levitan calls “a very, very excited and active female audience.”

It’s not yet clear when the first as1one single will be released, and the group hasn’t yet announced a label signing. (Levitan and Diener say they can’t disclose details on label negotiations beyond that “there’s real interest in the band.”) They’re backed by a 30-person team and 15 lawyers representing each member individually and collectively across trademarks, music, film and general counsel, and repped by WME, where they also have film and TV representation. That documentary crew lives with them, still capturing their every move — from jam sessions at the house (where there is a “No harmonicas after 11 p.m.” policy) to the much darker and more complex moments of their recent history.

All this infrastructure is being forged with a singular vision: to make as1one the biggest musical group in the world. “I mean, seriously,” Levitan says. “That’s our goal.”

The stakes for as1one were always high, but they’ve of course become significantly higher over the last six weeks. Eight of the group’s friends and family members have been killed in the conflict. It would be overwhelming for anyone, and certainly must be for the six young men now living 7,500 miles from their home, where a brutal war is being fought. But whether through coaching or genuine belief, the guys present a silver-lining attitude.

“There’s no way to describe how bad you feel,” Philips says. “Your first instinct is to go back and be with your friends and family. Then a few days later, you realize there’s no better service to the world than what we’re doing, and it just gives us a bigger purpose.”

“We don’t want to be political,” adds rapper Farah. “We just want to be ­humanitarian.”

From left: Sadik Dogosh, Ohad Attia, Niv Lin, Nadav Philips, Aseel Farah and Neta Rozenblat of as1one.

Austin Hargrave

They also don’t want to be inextricably linked to the conflict that, like it or not, has defined their formation. “One of the things we’ve told them,” Levitan says, “especially with everything going on now, [is that these events] can be an influence [on the music] but just can’t be directly related, because [the music] has got to be broad enough where everybody can relate to it.”

Right now, though, the inherent message of an Israeli-Palestinian group named as1one may give the act a greater meaning than Diener and Levitan could have ever imagined, regardless of what the guys are singing about. Conversations now aren’t just about being the biggest band in the world, but about the Nobel Peace Prize.

“You may say it’s a pie-in-the-sky kind of goal,” says Levitan. “But what this has become is that important.”

This story originally appeared in the Nov. 18, 2023, issue of Billboard.

The scene at the Chipotle on Ventura Boulevard in the San Fernando Valley at first looked much like any other Friday evening. Six good-looking guys in their early 20s sat around a table eating burritos, laughing and ribbing one another. They had landed at LAX that morning after a 16-hour flight, but despite their jet […]

Tate McRae was recently scrolling TikTok when an old interview she did at 16 came across the screen. “I was the most awkward person ever, and I was like, ‘There’s no chance that this is the same person,’ ” she says with a grimace. “You evolve so much, and not only am I seeing it, but I’m documenting it in my music in real time.”
Now 20 and living in Los Angeles, the native of Calgary, Alberta (which she calls “the Texas of Canada”), has spent much of her life thus far on screens — both her own, while navigating TikTok like a promotional pro, and others, whether on network TV or YouTube. As a teen, McRae placed third on the 2016 season of So You Think You Can Dance and soon after, in fall 2017, launched the weekly YouTube series Create With Tate, which she used to share new choreography and music covers. She thought she would go on to become a backup dancer, but she felt equally drawn to songwriting, covering her bedroom walls with lyrics, quotes and poems that her mother has since painted over in a shade she describes as “serial killer white.”

Tate McRae will perform at the 2023 Billboard Music Awards on Nov. 19. Watch on BBMAs.watch, @BBMAs and @billboard socials.

One of the first videos she posted was a song that proved she wasn’t destined to be anyone’s backup — and could very much hold pop’s center stage on her own. The lovelorn piano ballad “One Day” (which McRae wrote herself) gained traction online, and by early 2018, she and her parents were flying to New York for label meetings (accompanied by McRae’s dance manager at the time); just a year later, it was announced that she had signed a record deal with RCA and a management deal with Hard 8 Working Group. As her high school graduation in Calgary neared, McRae was splitting her time between midterms and awards shows.

“She was so young then, obviously, but so determined and really in some ways sort of moved like a competitive athlete, which makes a lot of sense, given her dance background,” RCA COO John Fleckenstein says. “But still, even at that age, she was so clear on where she wanted to go and what was important to her.”

And while those in McRae’s inner circle agree she has always wanted to steer her own ship — and has proved more than capable — she says that it took her until now to learn how to sail full speed ahead and in only one direction: her own. When she got her start in the industry, she was straddling two different worlds. “Now a lot of my time revolves around music in some way: thinking about music, playing music, driving and listening to music,” McRae says. “It’s all one world.” But merging the two didn’t happen without some friction.

Vintage Junya Watanabe top, MM6 Maison Margiela jeans.

By 2020, McRae was well positioned for a major year, with a proper team assembled. Then came the pandemic; still, she stuck with the plan, releasing what became her breakout hit, “You Broke Me First,” that April despite being homebound ­— unable to promote it or fully enjoy its success. Like “One Day,” “You Broke Me First” is a tender, midtempo pop song, and together they contributed to McRae’s early classification as a “sad pop” songwriter, drawing comparisons as Canada’s answer to Billie Eilish. But “You Broke Me First” has a bit more bite than its predecessor. It took off on TikTok within a month, ultimately peaking at No. 17 on the Billboard Hot 100, and performances at the MTV European Music Awards and on Jimmy Kimmel Live! followed — all as McRae prepared to graduate and move to Los Angeles.

McRae recalls spending a month in the city in April 2021, renting a house with her parents to “test it out,” during which they read Donald S. Passman’s industry bible, All You Need To Know About the Music Business. “We read this book together because we were like, ‘What are we walking into right now?’ ” At the end of their stay, McRae got her own apartment and has lived solo since. Though she admits she spends lots of time “inside on my couch,” she has found comfort and community in “a really awesome girl group” and fellow artist friends (like pal Olivia Rodrigo, whose “bad idea right?” video includes a McRae cameo) “because we’re private in our personal lives, but then our innermost, darkest, most intense fears are the things we’re putting on display, which is so weird.”

In the following years, McRae released music at a steady pace, including two EPs (All the Things I Never Said and Too Young To Be Sad) and a string of collaborations with artists such as Troye Sivan and Regard (“You”) and Khalid (“Working”), both of which became Hot 100 hits. Her 2022 debut album, I Used To Think I Could Fly, debuted at No. 13 on the Billboard 200 and yielded two more Hot 100 entries while also supporting her headlining tour of clubs and small theaters. All of which should have been cause for celebration — but what McRae remembers most is feeling lost.

“[That] album was a very big internal battle for me. I was so confused with who I was as a person,” she says. “I remember releasing it when I was still on tour, and it felt so overwhelming. I was just like, ‘Oh, wow. I just released my first album. It’s here, it’s happening. I am now an artist.’ And I think as much as it was a relief, I also was just like, ‘Is this right?’ ”

Ottolinger dress, Brandon Hurtado Sandler ring.

As she put together the album, McRae had felt like she “was working with every producer on the planet” and struggled with her “people-pleasing” tendencies while trying to make everyone involved happy. “It took a lot of time after that to be like, ‘OK, let me not look at any other person for a really long time and just figure out who the f–k I am and what I want to do with my life for real.’ ”

By the end of 2022, McRae knew something had to change. She trusted her gut. “I had to figure out who [in the industry] was actually on my side and who wasn’t … so a lot was shifting behind the scenes.” The biggest shift came when she signed a new management deal with Full Stop’s Tom Skoglund, Jeffrey Azoff and Tommy Bruce (all of whom also manage Harry Styles), along with Sali Kharazi and Ali Saunders.

“I was lost in the whirlwind of it all, and it got to a point where I was like, ‘I don’t feel like I’m being respected as a young woman, and I don’t think I’m being heard in the ways that I want to be,’ ” she says. “What I take a lot of pride in is being a genuine, good person. I’m always going to give out that energy, and if the people who are representing you and on your team aren’t reciprocating that, that’s just not the type of people you want on your side. I was just feeling like I was stuck in a spot I had been in for like, five years, and I was like, ‘I feel like I’m going crazy.’ ”

At such a time, she was thankful for her young artist and producer friends, whom she says were “so transparent with me on how things [looked] from the outside.” And now, she couldn’t be more grateful for her new management team and the relationship they’ve built — and the many successes they have already shared. “They look at me and they don’t question me making decisions,” she says. “I want to be a businesswoman. I’m 20 now and I’m still young, but I know what I want.”

Tate McRae photographed on October 31, 2023 in Los Angeles. Masha Popova top, Givenchy skirt, pants and shoes.

Simultaneously, McRae’s creative process shifted as she finally found a consistent co-writing crew in Ryan Tedder, Amy Allen and Jasper Harris. She says the way they made her forthcoming second album, Think Later (out Dec. 8 on RCA), was how she always imagined her idols made albums, with a sense of togetherness. “My last album wasn’t like that at all … I was getting songs from 10 different people and being like, ‘OK, here’s an album.’ And this time it was written by the same core group of people,” she says. “That’s what made the process so fun for me, because it actually felt like a project that I was working on.”

Already, the new process is yielding results. Sultry lead single “Greedy” has become McRae’s highest-charting hit to date, peaking at No. 11 on the Hot 100, driven by 104.2 million on-demand streams, according to Luminate, and its usage in 1.3 million TikTok videos. But arguably, its biggest accomplishment has been reintroducing McRae to the masses — as an artist who, this time, knows exactly who she is.

While McRae says fans shouldn’t expect the entire album to sound like “Greedy,” she thinks the song represents a stylistic through line of “straight pop. It’s also pretty savage.” She credits the shift to her alter ego, Tatiana, McRae’s tour persona whom she describes as “ballsy, so loud and obnoxious.”

Vassia Kostara suit, Givenchy shoes.

In the studio, “I was like, ‘I don’t really give a f–k. I just want to say what I want to say and I want to be 20 years old,’ ” she says. “Sometimes you just want to go out and have a good time and just live life and be present and follow your intuition and not think too hard about it — and I just didn’t feel like thinking too hard about a lot of these songs. I don’t think people are going to expect me to say the stuff that I’m saying.”

In other words, as Fleckenstein puts it: “Some of these records, you’re going to stop in your tracks and go, ‘I didn’t realize she could do that.’ ”

When we talk in early November, McRae tells me her last few weeks have felt like “a bit of a dream.” “Greedy” blasted off; she announced her second album along with a world tour, during which she’ll play her first hometown show and end at Madison Square Garden; and she started prepping for her Saturday Night Live musical guest debut. But, perhaps most impressively, she got her collaborator Tedder to work on a Sunday.

“She’s the first artist to get me to [do that] in close to 10 years!” exclaims Tedder, who executive-produced Think Later. “I don’t care how much I love you, who you are, how many Grammys or how high the stakes are, I don’t work on weekends. Weekends and late-night rap sessions are two things I’ve officially graduated from. But she got me to do it because the song was that good.”

Ottolinger dress, Cult Gaia shoes.

The song came together in one weekend — and after she had technically finished her album. The two had started working at 10 a.m., going through sequences and punching vocals, with the goal of wrapping by 7 p.m. About an hour in, McRae revealed she felt that one box had yet to be checked, sonically speaking, on the album. “We had already sent the tracklist to the label, and at 6 p.m., we walked out with a song completely written, recorded, vocaled and produced,” Tedder says. “It’s the fastest, craziest Hail Mary of my entire life.” The next day, a Sunday, they listened with what he calls “tomorrow ears” and finished the track with enough time for it to make it on Think Later.

McRae and Tedder first met over a Zoom session in 2020, after being connected by mutual friend and songwriter-producer J Kash. As they both recently recalled to each other, they wrote a “trash” song that day and didn’t work together again until late last year, on Tiësto’s thumping dance-pop track “10:35” (on which McRae features). It was clear to Tedder then that McRae had “started to definitively put up guideposts.”

That became even more apparent during their first session together late last year for Think Later, when they wrote one of Tedder’s favorite songs on the album. “That session started with her walking in, opening up a playlist that she made that had 21 to 22 songs on it, and [saying], ‘These are the songs that shaped [me]. I want to figure out the through line and attempt to beat some of these,’ ” he recalls. “She had words and phrases and endless amounts of topics and real-life stories to write from, and that just doesn’t happen. I can count on one hand the artists I’ve worked with in 20 years that have pulled that on day one. And it was the most refreshing thing in the world. Otherwise, you’re playing pin the tail on the donkey in the dark.” (As further proof, he adds that McRae’s mix notes are so detailed “you’d think Quincy Jones wrote them.”)

That session led to many more with the same tight-knit team — just how McRae had always envisioned making an album — including the one for “Greedy.” Earlier this year, Tedder had posted on Instagram a few early-2000s songs he was revisiting, including some by Nelly Furtado, to which McRae replied that she had been listening to the same material. “There was a discussion like, ‘Would it work now?’ ” Tedder says. “I said, ‘One hundred percent it will.’ I’m just old enough where I know cycles, and this cycle is going to happen.”

Vassia Kostara suit, Givenchy shoes.

McRae calls “Greedy” a “wild pass” on which they tried a totally new sound and beat — and just as Tedder predicted, it worked big time. She remembers debuting the single during her Philadelphia tour stop: “No one knew it was coming, and I remember feeling it that first night, like, ‘Holy sh-t, what’s going to happen with this song?’ ”

And while fans may not have known when to expect the song, they knew something was coming thanks to McRae’s TikTok, where she boasts 5.5 million followers (the most of her social media accounts) and had been teasing the song in a series of clips. (Within days of finishing her last song created with Tedder, she had already started teasing that on the app, too.)

“She is not scared or shy about playing music for fans and talking about what she’s doing, and she is driving that conversation every step of the way,” Fleckenstein says. “It’s not a record label ta-da! that you’re seeing around her where there’s some orchestrated marketing promotional shtick. This is about her making something, delivering it to her fans and saying, ‘This is what I care about, and I hope you do, too.’ And then we, as her partners and label, are making it as big as we can possibly make it.”

Tedder says he always tells McRae that, when it comes to social media savvy, “you’re the female [Lil] Nas [X] and he’s the male Tate,” adding that, “Understanding that the world lives on the internet and understanding what people want to hear, how they want to hear it and how they want it to be presented, that is its own art form now that I didn’t have to contend with when I started. I played a gig last night and was with Kygo and The Chainsmokers, and [The Chainsmokers’] Alex [Pall] and Drew [Taggart] cornered me to talk about Tate, and Drew said, ‘Man, I’ve been watching what’s going on with that song. She gets the internet.’ ”

Which is why McRae was well aware that the “Greedy” music video — in which she heats up an ice rink with her impressive dance moves, which she worked on with choreographer-to-the-stars Sean Bankhead — would land so well. “I’m really particular with my taste, and that hasn’t always translated through what the internet has seen of me, even with what I’m wearing and how I’m performing and the choreography,” she says. “I’m so proud of [the “Greedy” video] because I got to actually be a dancer and make a video that I was like, ‘This is sick. I want to show my friends.’ I never ever used to feel that way.”

[embedded content]

Now she’s thinking of how to translate this previously untapped swagger to the stage. On her most recent tour, which wrapped in October, McRae wanted to push herself as a vocalist rather than relying on her dance background to carry the show. And yet, those roots are what so many in McRae’s inner circle call her “magic.” As Tedder says, “She can outdance any pop star and it’s something she rarely flexes — and she flexed in [the “Greedy”] video.”

“The truth is, she is winning because she is singular,” Fleckenstein adds. “And particularly in a pop landscape — which is often a fickle and very difficult place to be successful — you need to be that good.”

And no one understands that better than McRae herself. When she names the artists she most admires, they’re a reflection of her own ambition — and many are former dancers who translated that foundation into global pop superstardom. “When I look at my favorite icons or videos or performances, it’s always the biggest pop stars, so I think that’s always a goal,” she says. “I think what defines a pop star is how iconic [they are]: Madonna, Britney [Spears], Christina [Aguilera]; they would put on these shows and blow everybody away and make timeless art. And that’s what I want to do: make timeless art and timeless performances — and strive to keep on doing that.”

This story will appear in the Nov. 18, 2023, issue of Billboard.

Earlier this year — on a warm day in May, Asian ­American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month — a septet of young women fought nerves backstage at Forest Hills Stadium in Queens. Just over a year after its official debut, the group XG was in town for Head in the Clouds, a music festival celebrating Asian and Pacific Islander culture, creativity and art organized by record label 88rising. But the gig held broader significance: It was the act’s first international performance outside of Japan, and in New York, no less.
Despite its early-afternoon billing, the stadium was packed — and chanting, “XG! XG! XG!” — when the group took the stage in glitter-emblazoned suits. The warm welcome made it difficult to believe that this was XG’s first time in New York, and after kicking off the set with its debut track, “Tippy Toes,” the crowd’s chants reached a fever pitch as the members segued into their viral hit, “Left Right.” Fans and casual festivalgoers alike danced freely to the beat, some even singing along to the song’s catchy chorus.

Reflecting today on that Head in the Clouds performance and XG’s subsequent appearance at the festival’s Los Angeles iteration, the group — whose members range in age from 17 to 21 — exudes gratitude. “New York was our first international performance, and the ‘XG! XG!’ chants were really touching,” XG’s Cocona says. In Los Angeles, she says, she even saw some fans wearing makeup inspired by the music video for “GRL GVNG,” XG’s prerelease single from its debut mini-album, NEW DNA. “And it was just really, really cool to see all of that!”

XG will headline Billboard the Stage at South by Southwest ­Sydney at the Hordern Pavilion on Oct. 20. Click here for more information.

Just six months prior, in November 2022, a set of cypher clips — or, in XG’s parlance, a “Galz Xypher” — had gone viral on social media. Taking turns, XG’s Cocona, Maya, Harvey and Jurin delivered crisp solo bars — effortlessly weaving among English, Japanese and Korean — over the instrumentals for J.I.D’s “Surround Sound”; Dreamville’s “Down Bad”; Ty Dolla $ign, Jack Harlow and 24kGoldn’s “I WON”; and Rosalía’s “SAOKO,” respectively. These pieces of content marked a turning point for XG, as new listeners outside of its core K-pop-adjacent fan base began to tune in. At press time, the cypher clips had amassed over 26 million YouTube views and over 16 million TikTok views.

Those four rappers, along with vocalists Juria, Chisa and Hinata, make up XG (short for Xtraordinary Girls). Though trained in K-pop’s sensibilities and practices, XG’s members are all Japanese, and their music, amalgamating R&B, hip-hop and dance, is sung entirely in English. The group is the first act on the label XGALX (its name plays on the XX chromosome pairing denoting female), a project of Tokyo-based entertainment conglomerate Avex, which has previously produced K-pop acts like BoA, TVXQ and BIGBANG. As Avex’s CEO, Katsumi Kuroiwa, told Billboard Japan in September, it launched XGALX in 2017 “with the aim of creating global hits” — and it hoped XG would be the “breakthrough artist” leading a long-term effort toward helping Japanese acts “thrive in the mainstream music world.” The septet was selected in 2017 out of 13,000 candidates, and it trained for five years before making its March 2022 debut.

On their first track, “Tippy Toes,” the girls declared, “Understand that we didn’t come to play.” In less than two years, XG has lived up to that claim, amassing over 637 million views on its YouTube channel; launching an official fan club, ALPHAZ; performing at the Singapore Formula 1 Grand Prix following the aforementioned festivals; and releasing NEW DNA in September.

Chisa

Ssam Kim

Cocona

Ssam Kim

At first glance, XG has the hallmarks of a K-pop group: It was trained under the tenets of that genre’s system while also learning the language, its music videos are highly stylized and made with K-pop production teams, it has performed on Korean music programs like Mnet’s M Countdown, and its creative team includes artist-producers like Chancellor (who has featured on tracks by veteran Korean artists Epik High, BoA and Younha and has written for K-pop artist Kang Daniel). Yet XG classifies its music in an entirely new category that it says transcends current paradigms: X-pop.

“The letter ‘X’ is often used to show something special or unknown,” Jurin explains. And it’s true that XG challenges standards both lyrically and visually. For instance, on NEW DNA’s lead single, “Puppet Show,” the group takes on outdated gender norms, singing, “Imagine a world where we could play different roles, where girls be taking control.” The song’s video matches its message: In an icy, dystopian landscape, faceless, uniformed figures surround XG until the members take literal leaps of faith to dance and sing the chorus on a stage in the center of this alternate universe. Even the album title, NEW DNA, refers to how the members view themselves as a “new species free from all conventions and limitations,” as the group says on its website.

XG’s executive producer, Park “Simon” Junho (also known by his producer moniker, JAKOPS), has been with XG since its earliest stages — down to its selection process and training, as detailed in the group’s ongoing docuseries, Xtra Xtra, uploaded to its YouTube channel. As the Seattle-born son of a Japanese mother and Korean father, Simon grew up absorbing both of those cultures, and he later moved to Korea to train and debut as a K-pop artist. (He was a member of the group DMTN, which was active from 2009 to 2013.)

For XG’s training — which, he says, “was conducted in an unprecedented manner” — Simon fused his own background and artistic style with “the foundation of the Korean [music] that is proven through global success.” Together with XG’s producers, he worked to ensure no two songs on the six-track NEW DNA have the same genre classification. X-pop is the result.

“XG’s ambition is to show music and performances that are not limited to the musical characteristics of a certain country, but can be enjoyed by people from all over the world,” Simon says. (The group has 625 million on-demand official global streams, according to Luminate.) “Current K-pop celebrities are also making ceaseless efforts to transcend the initial ‘K,’ and as a result, they are gradually breaking down boundaries. This is why I call [XG’s music] ‘X-pop,’ in the sense that XG also wants to break down boundaries together and deliver a message that everyone can relate to through music.”

Harvey

Ssam Kim

Hinata

Ssam Kim

To build as global an audience as possible, XG’s team approached making music in ways that diverge from K-pop acts’ traditional methods. Many groups based in Asia start out performing music in their native language with the goal of first building a local fan base, only releasing English-language music later as part of an effort to expand globally. But XG has only released music in English, despite it not being the members’ first language. Even as they converse among themselves in our Zoom interview, they naturally speak to one another in Japanese. And as of September, Avex’s Kuroiwa said that roughly 30% of XG’s listeners were Japanese, with 20% in the United States and 50% in other countries — what he called “an ideal distribution.”

It’s a manifestation of an ongoing K-pop debate: Is the genre defined by its language or by its sensibilities and cultural resonance? What constitutes K-pop — singing in Korean or embodying the elements pioneered by the Korean music business while respecting the genre’s cultural origins? Does language choice matter, or is it simply a tool to expand and reach more fans as a greater cultural movement evolves?

Simon says that XG’s team is intentionally fusing multiple influences — while still honoring their origins. He says that XG and its producers “want to add new color and continue to play the role of unfolding a new world” while still “respecting the legacy of various senior musicians.” In an effort to write lyrics that use expressions “actually used in America,” he notes that the group collaborated with American lyricists and composers, even as it also paired with Korean photographer-director Cho Gi-Seok and Rigend Film to “create innovative visuals” — all part of its intent to “present a novel group that had never been seen before in K-pop, with new sounds, new member compositions and even new visuals.”

From left: Harvey, Juria, Hinata, Jurin, Chisa, Cocona, Maya of XG.

Ssam Kim

Such cross-continental musical collaborations are becoming increasingly common as music globalizes, making previously unthinkable partnerships possible. With X-pop, XG’s team has coined a phrase that reflects this rapidly rising transference of cultures among markets. Yet XG’s collaborations feel unique: not simply partnering for collaboration’s sake, but genuine and organic, drawing on the multicultural experiences of the executive helping to shape the act’s direction.

Simon points out that creating new things in any preexisting environment has its challenges. The notion of “newness” is, to him, not only about working with “talented people with diverse backgrounds, but also with new artists with unique and fresh ideas. ‘Newness’ often raises concerns simply because it is unfamiliar: ‘Will it fit us well? Will our fans like it?’ ” Yet he and XG’s team remain committed to exploring new directions as the group forges ahead. References to evolution are ever present in its visuals, whether in imagery resembling splitting cells or nods to the “X-GENE,” the title of one mini-album track.

When asked about what inspires this kind of creative output, XG shows deep curiosity about the spaces it physically occupies. “Inspiration can come from anything, however small,” Cocona says. “We really try to feel the present. There’s a lot that you can receive if you just have the right antenna pointing in the right direction.

“XG has this motto or slogan, ‘Enjoy the moment,’ and we try to cherish every single moment that we’re alive because there’s a lot of deeper meaning in everything that surrounds you,” she continues. “So I have this photograph folder and anything that gives me inspiration, I’ll save for later. I’ll open up my memo pad and write down words that come to me.” Recently, she recalls being particularly inspired by the Studio Ghibli animated film How Do You Live? (soon to be released in the United States as The Boy and the Heron).

“I watched it once with my family and then again about three days later with the girls and Simon-san. Each time I watched it, different scenes and lines really resonated with me.”

Juria

Ssam Kim

Jurin

Ssam Kim

But ultimately, the members of XG are most inspired by one another and their shared dream. During our conversation, they encourage one another to take the mic, and that’s mirrored in how they approach their work. In fact, before they take the stage or ahead of important events, they shout the word hesonoo, which means “umbilical cord” in Japanese. According to Simon, they see themselves as seven members who share “united hearts and faith, as if they were connected by an umbilical cord.”

“What makes us extraordinary,” Jurin says, “is that I feel we are able to break free from all these norms and borders that tend to bind us. By that same token, there is a bond between us that transcends a lot of types of challenges, and it’s really amazing to have that.”

Cocona agrees. “Everyone is so genuine, it feels like we’re just being our true ‘animal’ selves,” she says. “We live life as it comes and follow our hearts. The moments where we have relaxed conversations with everyone and Simon are when I’m happiest. We always say, ‘Let’s definitely go to [outer] space someday!’ ” (Her groupmates nod agreeably to that ambition.) Harvey adds, “Everyone is just bursting with passion, and our love for each other is so strong! We make sure we communicate well and respect and understand each other, so this forms a really tight bond.”

As Hinata notes, they are motivated by their potential to “give people the courage to move forward,” crediting their ALPHAZ fan base as their main source of energy. “If I had to create a metaphor with this entire ecosystem as a body, [the ALPHAZ would] really be the heart, almost pumping oxygen throughout our whole body,” Jurin says. “The relationship between ALPHAZ and XG is really like family, like we’re coexisting, and whenever we decide that we want to take on some kind of new challenge, [they will be] the first ones to support us and back us up. They really understand us on a different level.”

Maya

Ssam Kim

From left: Harvey, Hinata, Juria, Jurin, Chisa, Cocona and Maya of XG photographed August 9, 2023 in Los Angeles.

Ssam Kim

A few days after NEW DNA arrives, the members reconnect to share early thoughts and reactions to its release. Two physical versions — an “X” version and a “G” version — came out with the same six tracks, a 78-page photo book, stickers and photo cards. “Our ALPHAZ got their hands on [the album] before we did. They said it wasn’t a ‘mini-album’ but a ‘mega-album,’ ” Chisa says with a laugh. “And when I actually held the album, I felt its weight and thought, ‘Yeah it’s not mini, it’s mega.’ ” Both Chisa and Juria say they’ve noticed fans engaging creatively with the photo cards, personalizing and decorating them with stickers, sharing them with one another online.

Though NEW DNA only has six tracks, XG captures a different theme in each of their music videos. In “GRL GVNG” (pronounced “girl gang”), the act performs in dark, moto-inspired clothing in a futuristic setting, whereas in “New Dance,” it wears bright, colorful clothing and dances against everyday scenery like a bowling alley, city alleyways and the beach. “It was so exciting to show a powerful version of ourselves, like in ‘GRL GVNG,’ and then switch to a new persona as in ‘New Dance,’ ” Juria says.

And with the album out and performances in New York, Los Angeles and Singapore under its belt, XG is preparing for yet another momentous event: an upcoming headlining performance at South by Southwest in Sydney. There, Jurin promises, fans can expect to find an even further evolved, “brand-new XG.”

“I don’t want to spoil anything,” Maya adds, “but my members and I are all thinking of something new and exciting for all of you. All I can say is that we want you all to look forward to what we’re preparing and hope you all are ready to have fun with us.”

Billboard’s parent company PMC is the largest shareholder of SXSW and its brands are official media partners of SXSW.

This story will appear in the Oct. 21, 2023, issue of Billboard.

Most people on Manuel Turizo’s team thought releasing “La Bachata” was going to be a big mistake. 
“They were scared,” says the 23-year-old Colombian artist. “They told me that I was neither a bachata singer nor Dominican and that I was going to confuse my audience. But that didn’t matter to me because I’m a singer. Music is universal and these are the influences Dominican music left in me.” 

Trusting his gut, Turizo released his first-ever bachata track in May 2022, backed by urban beats and weeping string melodies a la Aventura in the 2000s. Not only did it prove his team wrong — it became his biggest hit to date and relaunched one of the most promising careers in Latin music. 

“La Bachata” landed in August 2022 at No. 1 on Billboard’s Tropical Airplay chart, where it ruled for 14 weeks, and rose to No. 1 on the overall Latin Airplay chart last October. It also granted Turizo his only top 10 on both of Billboard’s global charts. It reached No. 6 on the Billboard Global 200, becoming the first bachata song to enter the top 10 since the chart’s inception in 2020, and No. 3 on the Global Excl. U.S. chart. Further, it earned the Colombian his highest-ranking title on the all-genre Billboard Hot 100, peaking at No. 67 in October 2022. 

The song also scored three trophies at the 2023 Billboard Latin Music Awards, including Global 200 Latin song of the year, Latin airplay song of the year and tropical song of the year. 

“Who was waiting for me to release a bachata? No one,” he says with a smile, “but it worked.” 

[embedded content]

The attitude may seem nonchalant, but it hides a steely determination. Turizo rose to fame at 16 years old and has trusted his gut ever since. 

“I wasn’t going to let this opportunity end ni pa’l carajo! (the hell no!)” he says of achieving fame as a teen. “Everything is going to last, no matter what. I am going to do whatever it takes to make this last. If you notice, I have always focused a lot on my music, not on fame or attention. Fame is just a tool for my music and it’s a side effect of when my music works too.” 

At the same time, he reflects on what he sacrificed at a young age, including “quality time with my loved ones” and “having time for myself.” But he’s aware that it’s a decision he made, and he loves what he’s doing. 

On the heels of the success of “La Bachata,” Turizo — an artist essentially known for his feel-good urban-pop songs — has become a go-to collaborator for artists across the genre spectrum, sought out for a universal sound that’s equally appealing to Generation Z, millennials and even baby boomers, who find Turizo’s slow, shy smile and his music irresistible on the dancefloor. 

AMIRI top, pants and shoes.

Mary Beth Koeth

In the past year, Turizo has joined forces with Shakira (“Copa Vacía”), Grupo Frontera (“De Lunes a Lunes”) and Marshmello, with whom he released “El Merengue” earlier this year. The electro-merengue fusion not only earned the famed EDM DJ-producer his first No. 1 on both the Latin Airplay and Tropical Airplay charts (spending 13 weeks atop the latter) but also the crossover artist of the year honor at the 2023 Billboard Latin Music Awards and a nomination for best tropical song at the 2023 Latin Grammys.

“Manuel and I have never met. He just came to the studio and we winged it,” Marshmello recalls. “Nothing was ready. We just sat there and from the ground up made ‘El Merengue’ happen. I never thought I would top a Latin chart.”

“If he wanted to do something with a 100% Latin flavor, this is one of the most iconic genres we have in our music, and we ended up producing merengue,” Turizo adds of the rhythmic hit. “I knew it was a song that had a lot of energy, but I didn’t know how far it was going to go.”

[embedded content]

Indeed, both “La Bachata” and “El Merengue” gained rapid virality, mainly fueled by Turizo’s dancing stunts on the internet with close friends, industry colleagues and fans at his concerts.

On social media, where he boasts over 20 million combined followers between TikTok and Instagram, Turizo flaunts his sexy, flirtatious and playful side, mostly in videos where he’s hanging out with his friends on a yacht or at the studio. But in person, he’s far more reserved, serious and focused.

He arrives at Billboard’s photoshoot at a local Miami restaurant 10 minutes before 1 p.m. on a hot summer Wednesday wearing a pale green T-shirt and black jeans. He’s in a good mood, greeting the photographer and his team with hugs and kisses. “¿Qué más? ¿Todo bien?” he asks me, but then finishes mingling and goes straight to work.

Turizo is now a Miami local. He has been residing in Florida since 2019 to further expand his music career and opportunities, but mostly because “Miami opened my mind a little to see beyond my ceiling,” he says, “to know that there are many more markets.”

Even though a newfound audience is just discovering his charm and chameleon-like talent, as well as his ability to blend many different genres into a global sound, his journey began 11 years ago in his native Montería, a small town in northern Colombia primarily known for its porro and fandango (two types of folk music).

“I was 12 when I started to feel like I really wanted to try something in music,” he says, crediting his parents and brother for instilling his love for music at an early age. “That’s where it all started, when I took vocal education classes and started writing songs not thinking that they would be possible hits, but because I liked it.”

Ferragamo jacket, pants and shoes.

Mary Beth Koeth

As teenagers, Manuel and his older brother, Julián Turizo, began creating music in their room. The former would write songs and sing them, and the latter would help in the composition, handle backup vocals and play the ukulele. At one point, they even considered becoming a duo, but Julián had other plans.

“I knew from the very beginning, when it was simply all a dream, that Manuel sang amazingly and that I didn’t want to sing next to him,” Julián explains. “I only wanted to contribute to the project, and from then on, my brother told me: ‘Well, let’s always work together, please. Let’s do this project together,’ and that’s how we began. My first objective will always be Manuel Turizo.” To this day, Julián plays a key role in his brother’s career, overseeing the creative process of his music and audiovisuals, among other duties.

In 2016, Manuel, then 16, and Julián, then 19, released their first song, “Una Lady Como Tú.” Produced with the help of their friend and music producer Zenzei, they released the track on digital platforms without any assistance — beyond using a cousin’s credit card to pay the $9 it cost to upload the song.

They struck gold instantly.

Introducing Manuel’s deep baritone vocal range to the world, the sweet, pop-reggaetón fusion “refreshed” the music industry, says Manuel, at a time when the Latin trap movement was building momentum with the rise of artists such as Bad Bunny, Anuel AA and Bryant Myers.

“I started with a song very different from what was happening and trending at the time I released it,” he says. “A [new] guy comes out that no one has any idea who he is, singing very romantic and with a sound that no one knows if it’s pop, if it’s a ballad, if it’s reggaetón, but it was like it refreshed people’s ears. It was like a different meal.”

“Una Lady Como Tú” peaked at No. 10 on the Latin Digital Song Sales chart in September 2017, becoming Turizo’s first Billboard chart entry.

“That was the beginning, where the gates of heaven opened,” he says with a laugh. “It was what confirmed to us that we were not wrong with all those dreams. That it is worth it, it is possible, and you can achieve it.” 

Manuel Turizo photographed September 6, 2023 at Calle Dragones in Miami. KidSuper jacket and pants.

Mary Beth Koeth

Amid the song’s success and fresh out of high school, Manuel signed his first (and to this day only) record deal with La Industria, helmed by artist manager Juan Diego Medina. He was the label’s second signee after Puerto Rican reggaetón star Nicky Jam. At the time, Turizo says he was offered all sorts of deals but none of them clicked, until Medina arrived. 

“He was very transparent from the beginning because he wasn’t like, ‘I want to sign you. I’m going to make you famous,’ ” Manuel recalls. “Rather, his proposition was, ‘You have a song that is No. 1 right now in Colombia. I believe that I can help you make that song become No. 1 in all Latin America. We’re going to try to see what happens.’ And everything has been step by step.” 

Just two months after Manuel signed with La Industria, Medina presented the project to Sony Music U.S. Latin for a distribution deal. 

Since “Una Lady Como Tú,” Manuel has remained a force on the Billboard charts, earning 26 entries on Hot Latin Songs and 30 on Latin Airplay, 12 of which hit the top 10, with seven reaching No. 1. And his three albums: ADN (2019), Dopamina (2021) and 2000 (2023), have charted high on the Top Latin Albums list. 

Manuel’s first No. 1 hit arrived in 2018 on the Tropical Airplay chart when he appeared on Piso 21’s “Déjala Que Vuelva.” That same year, he landed his first major collaboration, with Ozuna, on “Vaina Loca,” which earned Manuel his first and highest-ranking title on Hot Latin Songs at No. 4. 

“I always tell my artists that being No. 1 is not sustainable and has a price, that it’s better to be one of the best,” Medina says. “Manuel’s career has not stagnated. He has always been there. Maybe not always No. 1, but he is among the best because he is still on the charts. He is versatile. Sometimes he has that touch of rebellion when it comes to working together and expressing his ideas. And as he says, he always swims against the current. He is real. That’s his success. Success is being in your corner, defending it, defending your flag, defending your message and continuing to do so until you achieve the goal you set for yourself.” 

His collaborators, who now include Shakira, Maria Becerra, Nicky Jam, Feid, Maluma, Sebastián Yatra, Myke Towers, Rauw Alejandro and Luis Fonsi, have also been fundamental to his growth. “It’s important [to collaborate] and it’s cool, but I also feel that what you are going to offer alone is very important. You. Your proposal,” Manuel says. 

“He isn’t afraid to venture out of his comfort zone and work with artists outside of his genre,” says Maykol Sanchez, Spotify’s head of artist and label partnerships for Latin America and the U.S. Latin market, highlighting that Manuel is “one of Spotify’s biggest Latin artists, with 33.9 million monthly listeners.” 

And that’s precisely his strategy: “Nadar contra la corriente.” Swim against the current. 

“It took me time to gain my team’s confidence because for them this is also a bet; it’s a business and they don’t want to make mistakes,” Manuel says of his diverse sound. “You have to prove to them that it’s possible and that it works so that they give you their vote of confidence. As that continued to happen with several of my songs, they are finally understanding it. They know that tomorrow I will be able to come up with any crazy idea, any strange sound, and I think they won’t be afraid.” 

“He has always had a clear vision for his career and releases, which makes a difference in setting up any project,” says Micheline Medina, director of artist relations and marketing at Sony Music Latin. “He’s not only creative, passionate and innovative, but he’s also involved in every aspect of his releases and is receptive to new ideas that will help him achieve the goals we have set.” 

Manuel Turizo photographed September 6, 2023 at Florida Leather Supply in Miami. MM6 Maison Margiela shirt, sweater, jacket and pants.

Mary Beth Koeth

But according to his manager, he’s still the same Manuel, working with the same desire and dedication as on day one. 

At the photoshoot, Manuel is now wearing a sparkly, colorful suit. Piercing through the camera lens are his pensive, chocolate brown eyes and seductive smirk. He takes control of the playlist to set the vibe and plays Mora’s latest studio album, Estrella. 

“I like what he does. He’s very talented,” he says while striking a pose. “I still like to listen to albums, and right now, I’m studying him and listening to what he did. I like to see the musical vision of my colleagues.” 

With that mentality, Turizo fearlessly entered the música mexicana realm, collaborating with Texas-based Grupo Frontera for his latest single, “De Lunes a Lunes.” 

The downtempo norteño song — which was originally meant to be a vallenato — was produced and written by Mexican hit-maker Edgar Barrera and finds the singer and sextet chanting about a heartbreak so severe and unfair that it has them drinking for a week straight. 

“When I create, I like to try different things,” Manuel explains. “I feel like each song brings something different. The numbers are nice, obviously, but there are songs that don’t necessarily give you that; instead, they help you reach another market and other people discover you. I realized that people also enjoyed it and connected with it. I realized that this was my identity — that is me and these are my true [musical] tastes. I perceived that people received my songs well when I changed genres. And for me, it’s important to continue doing it. I can’t stay in the same box… I have to continue experimenting.” 

AMIRI top and pants.

Mary Beth Koeth

And while he keeps experimenting and diversifying his sound to maintain his global momentum, he remains focused and grounded. 

“The people around me nurture a large part of who I am,” he says. “There’s a reason I surround myself with them, because I like what they inspire in me, what they share with me and the similar personalities we may have, but what keeps me firmly on the ground is myself and what I think.” 

Manuel is on the road with his 2000 tour, produced by Cárdenas Marketing Network, which will wrap Oct. 29 in El Paso. He also hopes to release his fourth studio album, 201 (named after his apartment number in Montería), before the year ends. As expected, it will be charged with different sounds and colors, including a collaboration with Yandel called “Mamasota.” 

“201 represents all those dreams I had since I was a child, all those young desires,” Manuel says. “There is no career, no specialization that prepared me, that taught me about this industry. I learned all this on the street, on the road, and it has been a freaking cool dream. I have enjoyed my journey so much and I have lived this dream as I wanted.” 

“OK — now Ghostwriter is ready for us.”
For almost three hours, I have been driving an airport rental car to an undisclosed location — accompanied by an artist manager whose name I only know in confidence — outside the U.S. city we both just flew into. I came here because, after weeks of back-and-forth email negotiations, the manager has promised that I can meet his client, whom I’ve interviewed once off-camera over Zoom, in person. In good traffic, the town we’re headed toward is about an hour from the airport, but it’s Friday rush hour, so we watch as my Google Maps ETA gets later and later with each passing minute. To fill the time, we chat about TikTok trends, our respective careers and the future of artificial intelligence.

AI is, after all, the reason we’re in this car in the first place. The mysterious man I’ve come to meet is a “well-known” professional songwriter-producer, his manager says — at least when he’s using his real name. But under his pseudonym, Ghostwriter, he is best known for creating “Heart on My Sleeve,” a song that employed AI voice filters to imitate Drake and The Weeknd’s voices with shocking precision — and without their consent. When it was posted to TikTok in the spring, it became one of the biggest music stories of the year, as well as one of the most controversial.

At the time of its release, many listeners believed that Ghost’s use of AI to make the song meant that a computer also generated the beat, lyrics or melodies, but as Ghost later explains to me, “It is definitely my songwriting, my production and my voice.” Still, “Heart on My Sleeve” posed pressing ethical questions: For one, how could an artist maintain control over their vocal likeness in this new age of AI? But as Ghost and his manager see it, AI poses a new opportunity for artists to license their voices for additional income and marketing reach, as well as for songwriters like Ghost to share their skills, improve their pitches to artists and even earn extra income.

As we finally pull into the sleepy town where we’re already late to meet with Ghost, his manager asks if I can stall. “Ghost isn’t quite ready,” he says, which I assume means he’s not yet wearing the disguise he dons in all his TikTok videos: a white bedsheet and black sunglasses. (Both the manager and Ghost agreed to this meeting under condition of total anonymity.) As I weave the car through residential streets at random, passing a few front yards already adorned in Halloween decor, I laugh to myself — it feels like an apropos precursor to our meeting.

But fifteen minutes later, when we enter Ghost’s “friend’s house,” I find him sitting at the back of an open-concept living space, at a dining room table, dressed head to toe in black: black hoodie, black sweatpants, black ski mask, black gloves and ski goggles. Not an inch of skin is visible, apart from short glimpses of the peach-colored nape of his neck when he turns his head a certain way.

Though he appears a little nervous to be talking to a reporter for the first time, Ghost is friendly, standing up from his chair to give me a hug and to greet his manager. When I decide to address the elephant in the room — “I know this is weird for all of us” — everyone laughs, maybe a little too hard.

Over the course of our first virtual conversation and, now, this face-to-masked-face one, Ghost and his manager openly discuss their last six months for the first time, from their decision to release “Heart on My Sleeve” to more recent events. Just weeks ago, Ghost returned with a second single, “Whiplash,” posted to TikTok using the voices of 21 Savage and Travis Scott — and with the ambition to get his music on the Grammy Awards ballot.

In a Sept. 5 New York Times story, Recording Academy CEO Harvey Mason Jr. said “Heart on My Sleeve” was “absolutely [Grammy-]eligible because it was written by a human,” making it the first song employing AI voices to be permitted on the ballot. Three days later, however, he appeared to walk back his comments in a video posted to his personal social media, saying, “This version of ‘Heart on My Sleeve’ using the AI voice modeling that sounds like Drake and The Weeknd, it’s not eligible for Grammy consideration.”

[embedded content]

In conversation, Ghost and his manager maintain (and a Recording Academy representative later confirms) that “Heart on My Sleeve” will, in fact, be on the ballot because they quietly uploaded a new version of the song (without any AI voice filters) to streaming services on Sept. 8, just days before Grammy eligibility cutoff and the same day as Mason’s statement.

When the interview concludes, Ghost’s manager asks if we will stay for the takeout barbecue the owner of the house ordered for everyone before the manager and I arrived. At this, Ghost stands up, saying his outfit is too hot and that he ate earlier anyway — or maybe he just realizes that eating would require taking his ski mask off in front of me.

When did Ghostwriter first approach you with this idea, and what were your initial thoughts?

Manager: We first discussed this not long before the first song dropped. He had just started getting into AI. We wanted to do something that could spark much needed conversation and prep us so that we can start moving toward building an environment where this can exist in an ethical and equitable way. What better way to move culture forward around AI than to create some examples of how it can be used and show how the demand and interest is there?

As the person in charge of Ghostwriter’s business affairs, what hurdles did you see to executing his idea?

Manager: When anything new happens, people don’t know how to react. I see a lot of parallels between this moment and the advent of sampling. There was an outcry [about] thievery in 1989 when De La Soul was sued for an uncleared sample. Fast-forward to now, and artist estates are jumping at the opportunity to be sampled and interpolated in the next big hit. All it took was for the industry to define an equitable arrangement for all stakeholders in order for people to see the value in that new form of creativity. I think we agreed that we had an opportunity to show people the value in AI and music here.

Ghostwriter’s songs weren’t created with the consent of Drake, The Weeknd, Travis Scott or 21 Savage. How do you justify using artists’ voices without their consent?

Manager: I like to say that everything starts somewhere, like Spotify wouldn’t exist without Napster. Nothing is perfect in the beginning. That’s just the reality of things. Hopefully, people will see all the value that lies here.

How did you get in touch with the Recording Academy?

Manager: Harvey reached out to Ghostwriter over DM. He was just curious and interested. It’s his job to keep the industry moving forward and to understand what new things are happening. I think he’s still wrapping his head around it, but I thought it was really cool that he put together an industry roundtable with some of the brightest minds — including people in the Copyright Office, legal departments at labels, Spotify, Ghostwriter. We had an open conversation.

I don’t know if Harvey has the answers — and I don’t want to put words in his mouth — but I think he sees that this is a cool tool to help people create great music. [Ultimately,] we just have to figure out the business model so that all stakeholders feel like they have control and are being taken care of.

I think in the near future, we’re going to have infrastructure that allows artists to not only license their voice, but do so with permissions. Like, say I’m artist X. I want to license my voice out, but I want to take 50% of the revenue that’s generated. Plus users can’t use my voice for hate speech or politics. It is possible to create tech that can have permissions like that. I think that’s where we are headed.

“Heart on My Sleeve” is Grammy-eligible after all, but only the version without AI voice filters. Why was it so important to keep trying for Grammy eligibility?

Manager: Our thought process was, it’s a dope record, and it resonated with people. It was a human creator who created this piece of art that made the entire music industry stop and pay attention. We aren’t worried about whether we win or not — this is about planting the seed, the idea that this is a creative tool for songwriters.

Do you still think it pushes the envelope in the same way, given that what is eligible now doesn’t have any AI filter on it?

Manager: Absolutely, because we’re just trying to highlight the fact that this song was created by a human. AI voice filters were just a tool. We haven’t changed the moment around the song that it had. I think it’s still as impactful because all of this is part of the story, the vision we are casting.

Tell me a little about yourself, Ghostwriter. What’s your background?

Ghostwriter: I’ve always been a songwriter-producer. Over time, I started to realize — as I started to get into different rooms and connect with different artists — that the business of songwriting was off. Songwriters get paid close to nothing. It caused me to think: “What can I do as a songwriter who just loves creating to maybe create another revenue stream? How do I get my voice heard as a songwriter?” That was the seed that later grew into becoming Ghostwriter.

I’ve been thinking about it for two years, honestly. The idea at first was to create music that feels like other artists and release it as Ghostwriter. Then when the AI tech came out, things just clicked. I realized, “Wait — people wouldn’t have to guess who this song was meant to sound like anymore,” now that we have this.

I did write and produce “Heart on My Sleeve” thinking that maybe this would be the one where I tried AI to add in voice filters, but the overall idea for Ghostwriter has been a piece of me for some time.

Why did you decide to take “Heart on My Sleeve” from just a fun experiment to a formal rollout?

Ghost: Up until this point, all of the AI voice stuff was jokes. Like, what if SpongeBob [SquarePants] sang this? I think it was exciting for me to try using this as a tool for actual songwriters.

When “Heart on My Sleeve” went viral, it became one of the biggest news stories at the time. Did you anticipate that?

Ghost: There was a piece of me that knew it was really special, but you just can’t predict what happens. I tried to stay realistic. When working in music, you have to remind yourself that even though you think you wrote an incredible song, there’s still a good chance the song is not going to come out or it won’t do well.

Do you think that age played a factor in how people responded to this song?

Manager: For sure. I think the older generations are more purists; it’s a tougher pill for them to swallow. I think younger generations obviously have grown up in an environment where tech moves quickly. They are more open to change and progression. I would absolutely attribute the good response on TikTok to that.

Are you still writing for other people now under your real name while you work on the Ghostwriter project, or are you solely focused on Ghostwriter right now?

Ghost: I am, but I have been placing a large amount of focus [on] Ghostwriter. For me, it’s a place that is so refreshing. Like, I love seeing that an artist is looking for pitch records and I have to figure out how to fit their sound. It’s a beautiful challenge.

This is one of the reasons I’m so passionate about Ghostwriter. There are so many talented songwriters that are able to chameleon themselves in the studio to fit the artist they are writing for. Even their vocal delivery, their timbre, where the artist is in their life story. That skill is what I get to showcase with Ghostwriter.

You’ve said songwriters aren’t treated fairly in today’s music industry. Was there a moment when you had this revelation?

Ghost: It was more of a progression…

Manager: I think the fact that Ghost’s songs feel so much like the real thing and resonate so much with those fan bases, despite the artists not actually being involved, proves how important songwriters are to the success of artists’ projects. We’re in no way trying to diminish the hard work and deserving nature of the artists and the labels that support them. We’re just trying to shine a light on the value that songwriters bring and that their compensation currently doesn’t match that contribution. We owe it to songwriters to find solutions for the new reality. Maybe this is the solution.

Ghost: How many incredible songs are sitting on songwriters and producers’ desktops that will never be heard by the world? It almost hurts me to think about that. The Ghostwriter project — if people will hopefully support it — is about not throwing art in the trash. I think there’s a way for artists to help provide that beauty to the world without having to put in work themselves. They just have to license their voices.

The counterpoint to that, though, is that artists want to curate their discographies. They make a lot of songs, but they might toss some of them so that they can present a singular vision — and many would say songs using AI to replicate an artist’s voice would confuse that vision. What do you say to that?

Ghost: I think this may be a simple solution, but the songs could be labeled as clearly separate from the artist.

Manager: That’s something we have done since the beginning. We have always clearly labeled everything as AI.

Ideally, where should these AI songs live? Do they belong on traditional streaming services?

Manager: One way that this can play out is that [digital service providers] eventually create sort of an AI section where the artist who licenses their voice can determine how much of the AI songs they want monetarily and how they want their voices to be used.

Ghost: These songs are going to live somewhere because the fans want them. We’ve experienced that with Ghostwriter. The song is not available anymore by us, but I was just out in my area and heard someone playing “Heart on My Sleeve” in their car as they drove by. One way or another, we as the music industry need to come to terms with the fact that good music is always going to win. The consumer and the listener are always in the seat of power.

There’s 100,000 songs added to Spotify every day, and the scale of music creation is unprecedented. Does your vision of the future contribute to a scale problem?

Manager: We don’t really see it as a problem. Because no matter how many people are releasing music, you know, there’s only going to be so many people in the world that can write hit songs. The cream always rises to the top.

Ghost: My concern is that a lot of that cream-of-the-crop music is just sitting on someone’s desktop because an artist moved in a different direction or something beyond their control. My hope is we’ll see incredible new music become available and then we can watch as democracy pushes it to the top.

Can you explain how you think AI voice filters serve as a possible new revenue stream for artists?

Manager: Imagine singing a karaoke song in the artist’s voice; a personalized birthday message from your favorite artist; a hit record that is clearly labeled and categorized as AI. It’s also a marketing driver. I compare this to fan fiction — a fan-generated genre of music. Some might feel this creates competition or steals attention away from an artist’s own music, but I would disagree.

We shouldn’t forget that in the early days of YouTube, artists and labels fought to remove every piece of fan-generated content [that used] copyrighted material that they could. Now a decade or so later, almost every music marketing effort centers around encouraging [user-generated content]: TikTok trends, lyric videos, dance choreography, covers, etcetera. There’s inherent value in empowering fans to create content that uses your image and likeness. I think AI voice filters are another iteration of UGC.

Timbaland recently wrote a song and used an AI voice filter to map The Notorious B.I.G.’s voice on top of it, essentially bringing Biggie back from the dead. That raises more ethical questions. Do you think using the voice of someone who is dead requires different consideration?

Manager: It’s an interesting thought. Obviously, there’s a lot of value here for companies that purchase catalogs. I think this all ties back to fan fiction. I love The Doors, and I know there are people who, like me, study exactly how they wrote and performed their songs. I’d love to hear a song from them I haven’t heard before personally, as long as it’s labeled [as a fan-made AI song]. As a music fan, it would be fun for me to consume. It’s like if you watch a film franchise and the fourth film isn’t directed by the same person as before. It’s not the same, but I’m still interested.

When Ghostwriter introduced “Whiplash,” he noted that he’s down to collaborate with and send royalties to Travis Scott and 21 Savage. Have you gotten in touch with them, or Drake or The Weeknd, yet?

Manager: No, we have not been in contact with anyone.

“Heart on My Sleeve” was taken down immediately from streaming services. Are you going about the release of “Whiplash” differently?

Manager: We will not release a song on streaming platforms again without getting the artists on board. That last time was an experiment to prove the market was there, but we are not here to agitate or cause problems.

You’ve said that other artists have reached out to your team about working together and using their voices through AI. Have you started that collaboration process?

Manager: We’re still having conversations with artists we are excited about that have reached out, but they probably won’t create the sort of moment that we want to keep consistently with this project. There’s nothing I can confirm with you right now, but hopefully soon.

Why are you not interested in collaborating with who has reached out so far? Is it because of the artist’s audience size or their genre?

Manager: It’s more like every moment we have has to add a point and purpose. There hasn’t been anyone yet that feels like they could drive things forward in a meaningful way. I mean, size for sure, and relevancy. We ask ourselves: What does doing a song with that person or act say about the utility and the value of this technology?

Ghost: We’re just always concerned with the bigger picture. When “Whiplash” happened, we all felt like it was right. It was part of a statement I wanted to make about where we were headed. This project is about messaging.

After all this back-and-forth about the eligibility of “Heart on My Sleeve,” do you both feel you’re still in a good place with Harvey Mason Jr. and the Recording Academy?

Manager: For sure, we have nothing but love for Harvey … We have a lot of respect for him, the academy and, ultimately, a lot of respect for all the opinions and arguments out there being made about this. We hear them all and are thinking deeply about it.

Ghostwriter, you’ve opted to not reveal your identity in this interview, but does any part of you wish you could shout from the rooftops that you’re the one behind this project?

Ghost: Maybe it sounds cheesy, but this is a lot bigger than me and Ghostwriter. It’s the future of music. I want to push the needle forward, and if I get to play a significant part in that, then there’s nothing cooler than that to me. I think that’s enough for me.

A version of this story originally appeared in the Oct. 7, 2023, issue of Billboard.

“We all must make a choice — to be a hero or a villain.”
The familiarity of Morgan Freeman’s commanding voice couldn’t calm down the fans — 80,000 of them, reportedly — standing around Coachella’s Sahara Tent. The perilous tone of his monologue, paired with producer Mike Dean’s sinister synths, stressed the festival’s need for a hero. And comic book animations projected on either side of the stage illustrated there was only one man for the job.

Wearing a custom black Chrome Hearts suit, a masked Metro Boomin emerged from beneath the stage, his purple cross-embroidered cape fluttering in the desert wind. But regardless of the Academy Award-winning actor’s resounding introduction, it was the usually soft-spoken producer’s booming voice that caught festivalgoers — and one of his many guest performers — by surprise when he greeted the crowd.

“When we was done, Future kept telling me, ‘Bro, I ain’t know who the f–k was talking!’ ” Metro recalls. “ ‘I ain’t know you could do that! You be in a room and just be so quiet.’ ”

Future’s description of our hero’s usual alter-ego is true today as Metro sits at his own Boominati Studios in North Hollywood. He isn’t cloaked in his luxe costume; instead, he’s wearing a black Barriers hoodie with the image of Michael Jackson’s moonwalking silhouette highlighted by a baby blue spotlight. One of the studio’s ceiling lights floods him in the same blue as the bandanna wrapped around his tri-colored dreads.

He has gotten more comfortable in the spotlight lately. Over the last decade, Metro, 30, has transformed from a behind-the-scenes trap beat-maker to one of rap’s most in-demand producers. He has managed to take over pop music, too, and without compromising his signature sound, which is characterized by eerie synth loops, 808s, soulful samples and orchestral finishes and branded by his notorious producer tags. (“Metro Boomin want some more, n—a!”) So far, he has produced 115 Billboard Hot 100 songs, including 10 top 10 hits, among them Post Malone’s Quavo-featuring “Congratulations” and Future’s “Mask Off,” and two No. 1s, Migos’ “Bad and Boujee” (featuring Lil Uzi Vert) and The Weeknd’s “Heartless.”

But Metro’s latest solo album, Heroes & Villains — which he released Dec. 2, 2022, on Republic Records and his own label, Boominati Worldwide — continued his ascent into rarefied air: the producer-turned-successful artist. The sequel to his 2018 debut album, Not All Heroes Wear Capes, which topped the Billboard 200, and the second installment of an ongoing trilogy, Heroes & Villains built on Metro’s own cinematic universe, adding depth to his sound with more live instrumentation, like the horns on “Superhero (Heroes & Villains)” or the choral vocals on “Umbrella,” and assembling hip-hop Avengers like 21 Savage, Young Thug, Travis Scott and Don Toliver to perform their melodic and slick-tongued superpowers.

Heroes & Villains became Metro’s third No. 1 album, earning his biggest opening week yet, with 185,000 equivalent album units (according to Luminate), and its lead single, “Creepin’,” with The Weeknd and 21 Savage — a remake of Mario Winans’ 2004 R&B smash “I Don’t Wanna Know” (featuring Diddy and Enya) — spent the first half of 2023 in the Hot 100’s top 10, peaking at No. 3. Between Heroes & Villains’ No. 1 debut and Lil Uzi Vert’s Pink Tape, which topped the Billboard 200 in July, no other rap album reached No. 1 on the list, making it the longest wait in a calendar year for a rap album to lead the chart since 1993 (the year Metro was born).

Amiri sweater and jacket.

Sami Drasin

The album’s success was unsurprising to those paying attention to Metro’s creative promotion strategy for Heroes & Villains. He tapped Freeman, who narrated Metro and 21’s chart-topping album, Savage Mode II, to star alongside him in an action-packed short film directed by Gibson Hazard that also featured actor LaKeith Stanfield, Young Thug and Gunna. The clip kicked off his extensive rollout, which also involved an on-the-nose way to reveal the album’s featured artists.

A$AP Rocky had texted him one day about “this artist on Instagram that was doing all these comic book covers for hip-hop artists. And I was like, ‘Damn, this sh-t looks crazy,’ ” he recalls. “I DM’d [the artist, Alejandro Torrecilla], and I was like, ‘Yo, I’m finna start rolling my album out in three, four weeks. What if you did a cover for every artist on here and I just roll out the features that way?’ ”

The promotional efforts didn’t stop once the album was out: Metro embarked on a four-city in-store CD signing tour, debuted a live beat-making hologram of himself in Los Angeles and Miami, and projected his Heroes signal (from the cover of Not All Heroes Wear Capes) around the world (literally). “He was more in people’s face,” says Republic vp of marketing strategy Xiarra-Diamond Nimrod, who has worked with Metro since 2017. “[With Not All Heroes Wear Capes], we didn’t have as many in-store components. But this time around, we wanted him to have that interaction with [fans] and bring them into his world.”

The heightened visibility around Metro allowed the superproducer to transform into a superstar, separate from the ones with whom he regularly records. And more public-facing opportunities outside of music helped turn him into a household name: Earlier this year, he starred in and produced the music for Budweiser’s Super Bowl LVII ad and teamed up with the MLB Network for its Opening Day video, which was soundtracked by “On Time” and “Trance” from Heroes & Villains.

“That’s one of the things we discussed when we first met: Do you want to be that low-key producer who you know some of their songs but you can walk right past them today and not know who they were? Or do you want to be out and known, like Swizz Beatz, Timbaland or Pharrell [Williams]?” says his manager, Ryan Ramsey. “The numbers he’s doing on his own albums show he’s at that level where people are going to see him and say, ‘Hey, that’s Metro Boomin.’ ” Ramsey, who also manages Brandy, has represented Metro for the last two years under SALXCO, alongside the management company’s founder and CEO, Wassim “Sal” Slaiby; SALXCO vp of A&R Rahsaan “Shake” Phelps; and Amir “Cash” Esmailian through his own YCFU management company.

And while his No. 1 rap album set a high bar, getting a prime-time slot at Coachella served as the perfect climax for his rollout. “We had every intention of stealing the weekend,” Metro confidently says in retrospect.

Junya Watanabe jacket, Fendi pants, Louis Vuitton shoes.

Sami Drasin

In order to pull it off, he recruited a superstar-trained team: creative director La Mar C. Taylor, who works closely with The Weeknd; show director Ian Valentine, whose creative studio Human Person (which counts Billie Eilish and Post Malone as clients) was also responsible for animation, staging, lighting and content; choreographer Charm La’Donna, who works alongside major acts from Kendrick Lamar to Dua Lipa; and his longtime recording and mixing engineer Ethan Stevens, who helped him curate the setlist. He even passed on using Coachella’s designated livestreaming crew and hired his own to ensure the quality of the video and flow of the performance for folks at home.

“There was so many people advising me, ‘Don’t spend your money on that show.’ But I was like, ‘Nah, n—s have to get this,’ ” says Metro, who remains mum about how much Coachella paid him to perform but reveals he spent “over four times” that amount to ensure it happened just as he envisioned. “People were already hearing me different with this album. But they needed to see me different now.”

While his albums have established Metro as a masterful curator, “Trochella” confirmed he was an equally skillful showman. And much like his albums, he brought out his all-star collaborators, including The Weeknd, 21 Savage and Diddy for the first live performance of “Creepin’,’’ to perform the hits they share. While he mostly flexed his superproducer muscles from behind the DJ booth, he made sure to bask in his glory from the stage, too.

As Metro’s biggest risks — like dropping an album during the holiday season or investing a small fortune in an impressive Coachella set — have continued to pay off, he credits his unwavering dedication to the art. “Over time, [I’ve] established trust between me and my listeners, [so they know] that whatever I have to offer as far as music or anything, I’m definitely putting 1,000% into it,” he says. “It’s not about, ‘Oh, look at me like a star!’ Look at me like I care.”

Growing up in St. Louis, the producer born Leland Tyler Wayne looked up to hometown hero Nelly. Country Grammar was the first explicit CD he bought, and it inspired then-literally young Metro to become a rapper. But rapping requires beats, and since he couldn’t afford any, he decided to make his own. Producing turned into a bigger passion and came with added benefits, like not having to compete with so many other aspiring rappers — and sounding like a more legitimate profession to his mother, Leslie Wayne.

Leslie played an instrumental role in getting his career off the ground: When Metro was 13, she bought him his first laptop, where he downloaded the popular music production software FL Studio. And when he was in high school, she made 17-hour round-trip drives from St. Louis to Atlanta nearly every weekend so he could work with artists he connected with over social media, like OJ Da Juiceman and Gucci Mane — while still returning home before school on Monday morning. (Leslie died in June 2022, and Metro pays tribute to her often on social media and during live performances.)

He moved to Atlanta in 2012 to attend Morehouse College but dropped out after one semester to pursue music: In 2013, he got his big break when he produced Future’s acclaimed “Karate Chop” (featuring Lil Wayne). And Metro seemed to take over hip-hop in 2015: He joined the Rodeo Tour with Travis Scott and Young Thug as a supporting act and the latter’s touring DJ; produced most of Future’s DS2 album; worked on Scott’s debut album, Rodeo; and executive-produced Drake and Future’s joint mixtape, What a Time To Be Alive.

But he experienced a career-defining moment in February 2016 when Kanye West dropped The Life of Pablo. Right before premiering it during his Yeezy 3 fashion show at New York’s Madison Square Garden, West called Metro about one of the songs he had produced, “Father Stretch My Hands, Pt. 1.” “I didn’t put that tag on that beat. It’s Kanye’s sh-t,” Metro explains. “He asked for it like, ‘I’m finna play the album, but I need the tag on the song.’ And he just threw it in there real quick.” In a now viral clip, West is seen screaming and embracing a raccoon fur trapper hat-wearing Kid Cudi before “If Young Metro don’t trust you, I’m gon’ shoot you” blasts throughout the arena’s speakers. Metro’s tag catapulted him into the pop culture zeitgeist, from the numerous memes that flooded the internet immediately after to the hype it still creates whenever a DJ plays the song at a party. “That just took it to a whole ’nother stratosphere,” he reflects.

Amiri sweater, jacket, and pants.

Sami Drasin

From there, Metro continued building relationships with other rappers and elevating their music while reinforcing his reputation as the genre’s go-to producer. “A lot of times an artist will say, ‘I want to work with you, but send me beats.’ With Metro, it’s the opposite. He wants to create with you at a very intentional level,” says Vladimir “V Live” Samedi, who began working as Metro’s tour bus driver in 2016 before he was promoted to Boominati’s head of A&R. Metro dropped collaborative projects with Big Sean, Nav and 21 Savage, the lattermost of whom Metro has worked with on three full-lengths: Savage Mode, Without Warning (with Offset) and Savage Mode II. “Metro is the greatest producer of all time. I wouldn’t be where I am today without the help of my brother,” 21 Savage tells Billboard.

With prestige, a star-studded network and a stacked production discography, Metro had all the tools he needed to fly high on his own. He launched his Boominati Worldwide label in partnership with Republic in 2017 and, the following year, released his first solo album, Not All Heroes Wear Capes, a cohesive, superstar-filled set that plays out like a movie soundtrack. His hero motif stems from a family tradition: He, his mother and his four younger siblings used to “always go see every single Marvel movie together. We done followed the whole timeline on some nerd sh-t,” he reflects. “It has always been an interest to me.”

Sony Pictures Animation, which produced 2018’s Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse in association with Marvel, took notice. The studio worked with Republic on the first Spider-Verse soundtrack (which yielded Post Malone and Swae Lee’s mega-smash, “Sunflower”). When the time came to work on its follow-up, Sony Pictures Motion Picture Group president of music Spring Aspers says it “was just pure luck in terms of timing” that the label had just finished working on Metro’s Heroes & Villains campaign and decided he was its “ideal partner.”

“It started off with him doing a couple songs, and then it just got to the point where I went to him and was like, ‘Yo, do you want to executive-produce this whole thing? Because it looks like I’m going to have that conversation,’ ” Ramsey recalls. “He said, ‘Man, that would be dope!’ ”

Martine Rose suit.

Sami Drasin

Metro started working on the Spider-Verse soundtrack at the end of December — the same month he released Heroes & Villains. “We’re already on a roll; might as well keep it going,” says Stevens, who also served as executive producer. Compared with the two-and-a-half years they spent working on Metro’s solo album, the duo knocked out the Spider-Verse soundtrack in six months. Metro Boomin Presents Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse taps a diverse web of artists — Don Toliver, Nas, Lil Wayne, James Blake, Myke Towers, Mora and more — to deliver an ingenious mix of hip-hop, pop, Latin and Afrobeats that nods to the film’s protagonist Miles Morales’ African American and Puerto Rican heritage.

“He once texted us a line that a string quartet had played,” says Phil Lord, one of the film’s co-writers and co-producers, of what became the opening sequence of “Am I Dreaming” with A$AP Rocky and Roisee, an up-and-coming St. Louis artist whom Metro discovered on YouTube years ago. “Then he had [Mike Dean] come over and do this really wild synth stuff. That became the song that’s on the end credits of the movie. And now that’s going to be the official Oscar submission for the film.”

When the time came to promote the soundtrack, Lord and Chris Miller, another one of the film’s co-writers and co-producers, took a page out of Metro’s playbook. “In the first movie, there was this phenomenon where people were making their own ‘Spidersonas,’ ” Miller says. When they saw what he did with Heroes & Villains, they tapped the film’s character designer, Kris Anka, to create Spidersonas for each of the featured artists on his soundtrack.

But they had a special plan for Metro’s own caricature. The day before Metro attended one of the Spider-Verse film screenings, Lord and Miller asked him to swing by the studio an hour early to test out some lines they had written for him. “The Republic team, our team, the music executives from Sony and the editors were crammed into another booth,” Lord recalls. When everyone cracked up after he recited, “My bad, everybody! There was somewhere to run,” Miller says they knew “that was the winner.”

Now his Spidersona — and his voice — actually appear in the film as Metro Spider-Man, but Nimrod wanted to ensure that fans would see him off the silver screen, too. “We made these cool cutouts of his character and were hanging them from light poles, and there were decals on the sidewalks and walls,” she says. “People were fully stealing these cutouts and tagging me on social like, ‘I got my Metro Spider-Man hanging in my room!’ That’s when I was like, ‘OK, now this is fire.’ ”

Amiri sweater, jacket, pants, and shoes.

Sami Drasin

Metro Boomin Presents Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse reached No. 1 on both the Soundtracks and Top R&B/Hip-Hop Albums charts — matching, and outperforming, respectively, the performance of the first Spider-Verse soundtrack, which also received a Grammy nomination for best compilation soundtrack for visual media. Ramsey hopes Metro’s Spider-Verse contribution can score the same distinction, and given the success of Heroes & Villains and “Creepin,’ ” next year could well be Metro’s long-awaited Grammy breakthrough. Incredibly, he has been nominated only once, and not for a project one would have expected him to have worked on: He co-produced Coldplay’s “Let Somebody Go” with Selena Gomez, from the band’s Music of the Spheres, an album of the year nominee. “[Frontman Chris Martin is] a good friend of mine. Sometimes we work on ideas; sometimes we just go walk outside,” Metro explains casually.

But with so much music to make, industry accolades are far from his mind. He’s currently wrapping up his long-awaited joint album with Future and still working on his project with J.I.D that the two teased earlier this year. Metro is also working on A$AP Rocky’s highly anticipated album, Don’t Be Dumb, and is one of a few trusted producers working on The Weeknd’s final album.

Nonetheless, there are a few other artists he dreams of collaborating with in the future. “I still really want to do something with Justin Timberlake,” he says. “I need to work with Miguel. I still haven’t worked with Jay-Z.”

But while Metro will always make time for the music, he plans to spend the next decade focused more on his businesses. Since he launched Boominati, “a lot of the business was focused on Metro and our producers that we work with: Chris XZ, Doughboy and David x Eli,” Samedi says. Now Metro is transferring his artist discovery and development skills to the executive side so he can start signing artists. And, he teases, he has already started his own production company that will allow him “to do stuff for screen.”

“The amount of grind and effort I put in my 20s into the music, I’mma put into the business aspect through these 30s,” he says. “I watched my music seeds grow from 20 to 30. I can watch the rest of these grow from 30 to 40.”

This story will appear in the Oct. 7, 2023, issue of Billboard.

Shakira walks into a luxurious upstairs suite at Miami Beach’s Versace mansion wearing high-waisted jeans, a loose T-shirt and a baseball cap pushed low over her forehead, her hair pulled back in a tangle of dirty-blonde braids. Far from cameras, her face is practically devoid of makeup save for mascara, and her eyes are wide over prominent cheekbones. Clear-skinned, barely over 5 feet tall in her sneakers, she looks young and almost fragile — a far cry from the powerful, wrathful woman she has played in her recent, hugely successful songs and music videos.

“I’m still in a reflective period,” she says pensively. “I’m still exorcising some demons. The last I have left,” she adds with a hearty laugh.

One of the most recognizable and celebrated stars on the planet, Shakira is also notoriously meticulous, a perfectionist known for leaving little to chance. But in the past 14 months, the 46-year-old has thrown convention, expectations and her own personal brand of allure-driven celebrity to the wind following her infamous split from Spanish soccer star Gerard Piqué, her partner of over a decade and the father of her two children, Milán, 10, and Sasha, 8. Covered ruthlessly by Spanish tabloids, the separation amid allegations of infidelity on Piqué’s part was immortalized when Shakira recorded “Bzrp Music Sessions, Vol. 53” with Argentine DJ Bizarrap, an incendiary track in which she made a proclamation that became a global feminist mantra: “Women don’t cry; we make money.” The song hit No. 2 on the Billboard Global 200.

But lost amid the tabloid coverage, the four Guinness World Records that “Sessions” set and multiple Billboard milestones (including becoming the first female vocalist to debut in the top 10 of the Billboard Hot 100 with a Spanish-language track) was the fact that between motherhood and marital bliss in Barcelona, it had been nearly a decade since Shakira had achieved anywhere near the success she has had in the past year; her last No. 1 on the Hot Latin Songs chart was “Chantaje,” with Maluma, back in 2016.

This year, she has already landed two No. 1s on the ranking: “Sessions” and “TQG,” with Karol G. (Both also reached the Hot 100’s top 10, and “TQG” topped the Billboard Global 200.) And in the past 12 months, she has placed six hits on the chart, all of them alluding to her separation and the range of emotions it has generated, from intense rage to deep sorrow to faint hope.

However torturous the process of setting those emotions to music has been, the result is that the now-single mother of two is once again one of the world’s hottest artists in any language, with 2024 plans for a new album and a global tour, respectively her first since 2017’s El Dorado and its corresponding 2018 trek.

The irony of the most tumultuous period of her personal life fueling a mid-career renaissance isn’t lost on Shakira.

“I feel like a cat with more than nine lives; whenever I think I can’t get any better, I suddenly get a second wind,” she says. “I’ve gone through several stages: denial, anger, pain, frustration, anger again, pain again. Now I’m in a survival stage. Like, just get your head above water. And it’s a reflection stage. And a stage of working very hard and when I have time with my children, really spend it with them.”

Iris van Herpen dress and headpiece.

Ruven Afanador

Shakira has always been remarkably eloquent, both in her native Spanish and in the English she learned as an adult when she crossed over into mainstream pop. In conversation, she bounces between languages almost reflexively as she searches for just the right word, bilingually expressing a wicked, sometimes self-deprecating sense of humor — and a sincerity that’s startling for such a scrutinized artist.

At the Versace mansion, she settles cross-legged into a big, blue armchair. She asks for black coffee; it has been a long night at the studio, followed by an early morning getting the kids ready for school. She has a craving for chocolates, and soon, a tray is delivered loaded with a variety of bars and bonbons. She goes for the latter and eats one with relish, then another. She chats freely about children, life and loss, laughing often and pausing to take a call from Sasha, who is in his first week of school after the summer break and at a friend’s house.

“My love, remember to pick up your plate, wash your hands and say thank you after eating,” Shakira reminds him. She sounds like a regular mom — highlighting the earthiness that has won the oft-barefoot performer so many fans.

“Attaining success is of course complicated, but far more complex is maintaining it through time. Shakira has demonstrated in a thousand ways that she belongs to this very select group. Every time she releases a song or an album, her shadow is again gigantic,” says Sony Music Latin Iberia chairman/CEO Afo Verde, a confidante who has worked very closely with Shakira through the years, particularly since May, when the Colombian star relocated from Barcelona to Miami.

Since then, she has been spending most days at 5020, Sony’s state-of-the-art recording studios and rehearsal space in Miami, working with a steady flow of creatives that includes top producer-songwriter Edgar Barrera, who has collaborated with Maluma, Peso Pluma and Grupo Frontera, among others.

“Of all the artists I’ve worked with, she’s the most perfectionist, the most meticulous,” says Barrera, who worked on several songs with her, including “Clandestino,” with Maluma. “She knows exactly what she wants and what she doesn’t want. She’ll request things like a change of frequency in a kick. After working with her, I understand why she’s where she’s at and why she has been at No. 1 so many times.”

Iris van Herpen headpiece.

Ruven Afanador

For Verde, Shakira’s proximity has helped him support her creative process in a way that has hugely accelerated her output. “She’s one of those few cases in the world who, despite the passage of time, continues to work with the same excitement, quality, respect and attention to detail as she did in the beginning. She works with whoever makes sense for her artistic pursuit. She doesn’t care if they’re established or up and coming. For her, art comes first.”

Case in point: Fuerza Regida, the Southern California Mexican quintet that has scored five Hot 100 entries in the past year with its brash, homegrown take on norteño music but remains far from a household name. When Shakira’s team reached out to lead singer JOP in July to ask if he was interested in collaborating on the recently released “El Jefe” with her, the 26-year-old got on a flight to Miami the next day without having heard a note of the proposed track.

“It’s Shakira! Do you understand what I mean?” JOP says. “There isn’t anything else to say. I grew up listening to Shakira, and after all the challenges to reach where I am now, to collaborate with one of the greatest artists in the world… It’s crazy! It had me mind-blowed.”

In May, Billboard honored Shakira as its first ever Latin Woman of the Year; in July, Premios Juventud gave her its Agent of Change Award; and on Sept. 12, she received the Michael Jackson Video Vanguard Award at the MTV Video Music Awards, where she also performed a dazzling, 10-minute medley of hits.

Still, she admits, for the past seven years, she has been sidetracked by family matters and life in Barcelona, far from music industry action. That changed a little over a year ago, when she split with Piqué and began cathartically pouring her heart into her songs. Several milestones followed in quick succession. “Te Felicito,” with Rauw Alejandro, reached No. 10 on Hot Latin Songs and No. 67 on the Hot 100 in May and June of 2022, respectively; in November, “Monotonía,” with Ozuna (its video shows Shakira’s heart literally torn from her body and squished by a shoe on the sidewalk), climbed to No. 3 on Hot Latin Songs; and earlier this year, “Sessions” and “TQG” surged in popularity.

[embedded content]

Suddenly, Shakira was no longer a distant celebrity, but one of the most streamed stars on the planet. (At press time, she was Spotify’s most streamed Latin woman artist ever.)

Simultaneously, Shakira — who essentially pioneered the concept of global touring in the Latin realm and made history when she co-headlined the 2020 Super Bowl halftime show with Jennifer Lopez — revived conversations about hitting the road. While details remain under wraps, her upcoming tour, says WME music partner Keith Sarkisian, will include arena and stadium shows in nearly two dozen countries across Latin America, North America, the United Kingdom, Europe and the Middle East.

“Shakira has established herself as a remarkable and influential artist over the past 20-plus years,” says Live Nation Entertainment CEO/president Michael Rapino, whose relationship with the singer dates back to her 2007 Oral Fixation tour. “She has grown a massive global fan base through her captivating performances and unique blend of pop, rock, Latin and world influences. We can’t wait to see her on stages around the world for her biggest tour yet.”

Shakira agrees. “I think this will be the tour of my life. I’m very excited. Just think, I had my foot on the brakes. Now I’m pressing on the accelerator ­— hard.”

First order of the day: Are the kids happy in school?

They’re doing very well. They love it. In Barcelona, they carried the weight of being “the children of…,” and the media situation was hard on them. We had paparazzi at our doorstep every single day. Here, they’re normal children who enjoy normalcy, which is what school should be: a safe haven where they can be themselves. And because they’re sociable and pretty open, it was easy for them to adapt.

Have you adapted?

I’m still in the process! (Laughs.) I’ve lost a bit of my mental plasticity with time. The last time I lived here, I was 21 or so. Miami has changed. There wasn’t as much traffic before.

Do you still enjoy driving?

Yes. I still drive myself. I drive a total soccer mom car: a Toyota Sienna. Not sexy at all. There are no sexy cars in my house. The only sexy thing in my house is me. (Laughs.)

I’ve seen you going out a lot. I didn’t know you were such a social butterfly.

Me either! I didn’t know it because I really was lazy about going out [before]. My favorite outfit is my PJs. But my kids are big Miami Heat fans. Milán is a fan of all sports. So I have to take him to all the baseball games, all the basketball games, all the hockey games. Never in my life have I gone to so many sporting events. And then, when they’re with their dad, I work from morning to night, and then I have a margarita with my friends.

Did your lifestyle change dramatically over the last year?

Dramatically. Aside from the fact that it’s been a drama, the time I have with my children, [I] really spend it with them. For example, this summer, the time they spent with me, I devoted entirely to them. I didn’t work, and they didn’t go to camp. They went to Camp Shakira. If I can only have them half the time, I’m going to make the most out of my half.

Versace dress and gloves, Giuseppe Zanotti boots.

Ruven Afanador

How does this affect your music?

Now that I spent a week in Los Angeles, for example, I put in everything: studio, work, meetings, work, work, work, work until late, then meet up with my girlfriends that I haven’t seen in a while and go out at night like in the old days. (Laughs.) I put everything, leisure and pleasure, in the same week but very compacted because then I have to come back and be a mom again, the head of the household, and then I can’t do anything because I have the children with me all the time. As far as the music, it still comes from a very reflective place.

But the upside to all you’ve been through seems to be that you’ve produced some of your most successful music in years. Would you agree?

Well, the thing is, I was dedicated to him. To the family, to him. It was very difficult for me to attend to my professional career while in Barcelona. It was complicated logistically to get a collaborator there. I had to wait for agendas to coincide or for someone to deign to come. I couldn’t leave my children and just go somewhere to make music outside my house. It was hard to maintain the rhythm. Sometimes I had ideas I couldn’t lock down. Right now, I have an idea and I can immediately collaborate with whomever I want to. Something inescapable about Miami, Los Angeles, the U.S. in general is I have the logistical and technical support, the resources, the tools, the people. Living in Spain, all that was on hold.

I hadn’t thought about it that way…

That’s why my career was a third priority. The last time I released an album was six years ago. Now I can release music at a faster clip, although sometimes I think being a single mom and the rhythm of a pop star aren’t compatible. I have to put my kids to bed, go to the recording studio; everything is uphill. When you don’t have a husband who can stay home with the kids, it’s constant juggling because I like to be a present mom and I need to be there every moment with my children: take them to school, have breakfast with them, take them to play dates. And aside from that, I have to make money.

It’s so complicated to be a working mom ­— we’re taught we can do everything, but something always suffers. What do you think?

I haven’t been to the gym in a year. Well, I’ve gone a couple of times. I don’t know how long it’s been since I got a massage. I have torticollis! Something’s got to give. My neck. My traps. That’s what gives. It’s hard to do everything.

Before all this happened, were you concerned about releasing new music, or were you happy in your Barcelona state of mind?

My priority was my home, my family. I believed in “till death do us part.” I believed that dream, and I had that dream for myself, for my children. My parents have been together, I don’t know, 50 years, and they love each other like the first day, with a love that’s unique and unrepeatable. So I know it’s possible. My mom doesn’t leave my [sick] father’s side. They still kiss on the mouth. And it has always been my example. It’s what I wanted for myself and my children, but it didn’t happen. If life gives you lemons, you have to make lemonade. That’s what I’m doing: making lemonade.

Gaurav Gupta dress.

Ruven Afanador

Tell me about your upcoming singles. You’ve been collaborating with all Latin artists lately. Is that a calculated decision?

It has all been very organic. I’m coming out with something in September and maybe in November. The new single is a collab with Fuerza Regida. It’s a Mexican ska, and it sounds very fresh, very original, very punk in a way. It has tons of energy. The song is called “El Jefe” [“The Boss”], and it’s about abuse of power. We had the song and thought, “Oy, who could we get for this?,” and we thought of Fuerza Regida. JOP’s voice is very special. We wrote him, and he flew in the following day from Los Angeles and we recorded it in three days.

[Regarding “TQG” with Karol G], Karol is going through a good moment, plus we were both going through [public breakups] that have a common denominator. That inspired the song, which we both worked on. It was a project I believed in from the onset, and that’s why I invested so much time in it.

This was a highly anticipated and very successful collaboration. Would you say you devoted more time and resources to “TQG” than other recent singles?

Well, the Ozuna video [for “Monotonía”] was also my idea. Most videos I end up co-directing, co-writing, even designing the objects with the art department. I really get involved all the way because I feel the audiovisual world [also] expresses a very oneiric side and connects with the song from the subconscious. It allows the subconscious to speak. When I’m making a video, I close my eyes and dream.

With that in mind, why have a siren in your new music video for “Copa Vacía” with Manuel Turizo?

Because the siren is a symbol that represents that part of me that was abducted and taken from a world where she belongs to a world where she doesn’t belong. A world she had to make enormous sacrifice to be in. A world where perhaps she lacked oxygen. But in the end, she returns to the sea because it’s her destiny, just like I returned to Miami. (Laughs.) This siren was first abducted and then, for love, is next to this man, captive and locked up in a way. Sacrificing her own well-being and what is natural for her for love. And then she ends up thrown in the trash and surrounded by rats.

That’s intense.

Right? And I don’t know if you knew this, but there are real rats around me in the video. Because believe me, I’m still surrounded by rats. But every time less and less. That has been a big part of what I’ve been doing this past year: cleaning the house, exterminating the rats.

But your music returned. That’s the silver lining.

There’s always a silver lining. Life always manages to compensate somehow. In one year, I lost what I loved most, the person I most trusted, my best friend: my father. He has lost many of his neurological functions as a result of the accident he had in Barcelona [a fall in June 2022]. And he went to Barcelona precisely to console me, to support me at the time of my separation. I thought, “How can so many things happen to me in a year?” But that’s life.

From there, my music has also taken new flight, and I suppose that’s the way life compensates. You subtract on one end and add on the other. It’s pure mathematics. In my ninth life, I’ll tell you what the total is. Sometimes I think happiness isn’t for everyone. Happiness is a luxury, a commodity. Some people are born to be happy, and some people are born to do things, serve the community. I don’t know.

Are you happy now?

It’s a very short question for a very long answer. I don’t think everyone has access to happiness. It’s reserved for a very select number of people, and I can’t say I’m part of the club at this moment. There are moments of happiness, distraction, moments of reflection. There are also still moments of nostalgia, and my music right now feeds off that cocktail.

Iris van Herpen headpiece.

Ruven Afanador

You obviously didn’t plan any of this. You weren’t looking for a No. 1, but for a creative outlet, correct?

Exactly. I was trying to work out and understand my emotions in search of a catharsis.

In 2021, you sold the music publishing rights to your catalog of 145 songs at the time to Hipgnosis. Why?

I’m very friendly with Merck [Mercuriadis]. He’s a musicology expert who knows my catalog intimately from the very first song I wrote when I was 8 years old. I know my compositions are in the best hands with him as the custodian for them, and I’m very happy. They’re doing a really good job. If you sell your catalog, you want to know it’s to someone who values your music and knows about music.

Are you at all worried about artificial intelligence?

I was shown how I sound with AI. But I don’t think they got it right yet. I don’t hear myself there. The letter E, for example, sounds like my voice, but not the other four vowels. I think it’s going to be hard for AI to imitate me. And I have bigger fish to fry right now. My biggest concern is figuring out how Milán can practice American football, soccer and baseball in the same week.

I know you’re planning to tour next year, and I saw photos of you at Beyoncé’s tour. It looked like you were having fun.

Oh, no. I was working! (Laughs.) I definitely can’t tour with as many trucks as Beyoncé, but I was taking notes.

Something I’ve always loved about your tours is that they are ­pretty much all you. That you don’t need…

So much stuff? In a way, I wanted to prove to myself that I could support the entire weight of a show. In fact, many of my tours had no dancers and a limited production. In the [2002-03] Tour of the Mongoose, which was one of my most successful tours, with the biggest production, I traveled with that serpent that rose at the beginning of the show, remember? That serpent cost $1 million and, transporting the serpent, several million more. When the tour ended, my manager asked for his commission, and I said, “Aha, and how much did I make from the tour?” He said, “No, you lost $6 million. Didn’t you want to travel with that cobra?” You live and learn.

Putting a tour together is fun, but it’s a great effort and you have to put everything on the balance and decide what the fans really want to hear, what songs you want to hear and how much production you want. In the end, the more production you have, the higher the ticket price. I want the tickets to be affordable. But to me, the most important thing is the repertoire. That’s why I think [my next tour] will be the tour of a lifetime, because I have so many songs.

Versace dress and gloves, Giuseppe Zanotti boots.

Ruven Afanador

Do you think that in five years, when you look back, you’ll see this moment in a more positive light?

Like a blessing in disguise? I think that nothing can compensate for the pain of destroying a family. Of course, I have to keep going for my children’s sake; that’s my greatest motivation. But my biggest dream, more than collecting platinum albums and Grammys, was to raise my sons with their father. Overcome obstacles and grow old together. I know I’m not getting that now.

What did you learn about yourself in this process that surprised you?

My strength. I thought I was much weaker. I used to crumble before the stupidest problems. I’d create a drama because I chipped my tooth or that kind of stuff. But maturing, going through truly difficult things, gives you a sense of perspective and empathy. You learn how to value the good moments and how not to amplify the bad ones.

Before, when I didn’t have real problems, I was a true drama queen. I remember one time, Gerard bought me a diamond ring because I chipped a tooth on The Voice and I was crying so much. I was inconsolable. I was also pregnant, so I was highly hormonal. Now I chip a tooth, and it doesn’t go beyond being a little inconvenience that you fix with a visit to the dentist. I wouldn’t cry over it for two days in a row like I used to back in the day when I used to be happy.

At a time when there seems to be no taboos left in Latin music in terms of content and image, do you think a lot about what you want to say or portray in your music?

I’ve always been very conscious of the fact that what a public person expresses or says has an echo and an impact over others. And I am convinced that we have to serve the community through our work and help the world become a better place. As a woman, I feel I have a responsibility. I also think music is a tool, a platform for validation as a woman and to validate my own ideas, but there isn’t a calculated intent behind what I do. But I do understand the responsibility that comes with what I have and with being a public person and being able to do music for such a long time and reach several generations. I know little girls see me, go to my concerts, listen to my music. That’s always in the back of my head.

[embedded content]

“Bzrp Music Sessions, Vol. 53” generated a lot of controversy. People were divided over whether you should have spoken out. Was that a difficult decision?

When I did that session, people on my team were saying, “Please change this. Don’t even think about coming out with those lyrics.” And I said, “Why not?” I’m not a diplomat in the United Nations. I’m an artist, and I have the right to work on my emotions through my music. It’s my catharsis and my therapy, but it’s also the therapy of many people. I know I’m the voice of many people, and I’m not being pretentious, just realistic. I lend my voice to many women who maybe also wanted to say the same things I said and perhaps haven’t had the validation to do so. I think songs like the Bizarrap session or like the one I did with Karol have given many women strength, self-empowerment, self-confidence and also the backing to express and say what they need to say.

And without the need to be vulgar or graphic?

No, but going straight to the jugular. I don’t know how to go anywhere else.

Michelle Yeoh, who is 61 years old, won the Academy Award for best actress this year. In her speech, she said, “Ladies, don’t let anybody tell you you are ever past your prime.” Ours is a very ageist industry. What do you think of those words?

When the year started and I got that first No. 1, then the other, back-to-back, I thought, “This can’t be happening to me at 46 years old.” It was so exciting to break the mold or reinvent the paradigms, and also, because that’s how you change things. I feel I have more energy now than at many other times in my life. Now the studio is one of my happy places. In the past, it wasn’t so much like that. There were moments where I had a love/hate relationship. There was a bit of a fear factor in the studio, at the prospect of being before a blank canvas. But now, when I’m about to start a song, my feelings are more of anticipation. Maybe because I’m not such a control freak as I used to be?

Really?

I’ve let go a lot! I still control, but I’m not a freak. Who doesn’t like control in a way? You want to realize your vision. But I’ve let go a lot. If I were to chip my tooth now, I’d probably spill a tear or two, but I wouldn’t cry the whole day.

This story will appear in the Sept. 23, 2023, issue of Billboard.

Shakira walks into a luxurious upstairs suite at Miami Beach’s Versace mansion wearing high-waisted jeans, a loose T-shirt and a baseball cap pushed low over her forehead, her hair pulled back in a tangle of dirty-blonde braids. Far from cameras, her face is practically devoid of makeup save for mascara, and her eyes are wide […]

It’s fitting that on the same day that Hilary — Southern California’s first tropical storm in 84 years — rains her way out of Los Angeles, Sean “Diddy” Combs breezes into Billboard’s studio for a sit-down interview. He’s a fascinating whirlwind of activity from the moment he arrives in his ever-present shades: stopping first to huddle with the photographer about the lighting for the shoot, orchestrating the background setup for his video chat; then changing outfits to match his vibe just before the cameras roll. “It’s just not my vibration,” he declares at one point as the backdrop is being rearranged. “I’m in a high frequency right now.”

“High frequency” and “low frequency” are phrases that often crop up during this interview and a follow-up conversation a week later as Combs talks about returning to music with his first album in 13 years, The Love Album: Off the Grid, and explains his take on what fans have been missing from him.

“You’ve always got to bring something new and fresh,” he says. “I wouldn’t have come back after 13 years if I didn’t have something to say.”

And right now, Combs has got a lot to say. This year marks the 30th anniversary of Bad Boy Entertainment and the 10th anniversary of his REVOLT TV network, with its reimagined REVOLT World summit (featuring keynotes, panels and performances by Don Toliver, Mr. Eazi and more) slated for Sept. 22-24 in Atlanta. And with his sixth studio album that his own Love Records will deliver on Sept. 15 (“Diddy Day,” he calls it), he’s officially launching a creative renaissance, too.

The R&B album features Diddy rapping alongside a guest roster of 29 established and emerging stars, ranging from Mary J. Blige, H.E.R., Summer Walker, Jazmine Sullivan and Coco Jones to The-Dream, Justin Bieber, Ty Dolla $ign, Burna Boy, Kalan.FrFr and Love Records artist Jozzy. Comprising 22 tracks and two interludes, The Love Album: Off the Grid is dedicated to late producer Chucky Thompson, who was an original member of Bad Boy’s in-house production collective called the Hitmen. The Weeknd makes his final guest stint on the album’s next single, “Another One of Me,” with French Montana and 21 Savage. Another track, “Kim Porter,” with Diddy and Babyface featuring John Legend, pays tribute to Combs’ late former girlfriend and mother of three of his children.

“This isn’t just an R&B album; it’s an R&B movie [about love],” says Combs, who executive-produced and curated the project. “It’s probably one of the biggest collections of talent ever, all unified on one album. And I happen to be blessed to have The Weeknd’s last feature. The song talks about being unique, in a sense — telling your ex-girl that another one of me won’t come around.”

As an artist, Combs’ bona fides speak for themselves. Since his ’90s heyday, the triple Grammy winner has sold 8.1 million albums in the United States, according to Luminate, with five titles charting in the top 10 on the Billboard 200: No Way Out (No. 1, 1997), Forever (No. 2, 1999), The Saga Continues … (No. 2, 2001), Press Play (No. 1, 2006) and Last Train to Paris (No. 7, 2011). He has landed 38 career entries on the Billboard Hot 100, including 15 top 10s and five No. 1s: “Can’t Nobody Hold Me Down,” featuring Ma$e; “I’ll Be Missing You,” with Faith Evans and featuring 112; The Notorious B.I.G.’s “Mo Money Mo Problems,” featuring Puff Daddy & Ma$e; “Bump Bump Bump,” with B2K; and “Shake Ya Tailfeather,” with Nelly and Murphy Lee. Still, when his new album’s first single, “Gotta Move On,” with Bryson Tiller, peaked at No. 3 in 2022, it was his first top 10 on the R&B/Hip-Hop Airplay chart since “Last Night” featuring Keyshia Cole in 2007, which went to No. 7. (“Gotta” also topped Adult R&B Airplay for two weeks last November.)

Then in September, Combs rocked the industry with the surprise announcement that he was returning his publishing rights to the artists and songwriters who had helped build his Bad Boy Entertainment into a success — a move that came after detractors, most notably Ma$e, alleged that Combs had treated his artists unfairly over the years. Ma$e, Evans, The LOX, 112 and the estate of The Notorious B.I.G. are among the creatives who have already signed agreements to regain those rights.

During his interview with Billboard, Combs speaks about his push to close the wealth gap for Black people and promote diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives. On behalf of the latter cause, his Sean Combs Foundation recently donated $1 million to Jackson State University, a historically Black university. He also announced a $1 million investment fund in partnership with Earn Your Leisure founders Rashad Bilal and Troy Millings to provide a practical model for economic empowerment in Black communities. He notes as well that profits from the fund would support his three Capital Preparatory charter schools in New York and Connecticut.

Referencing Tulsa, Okla.’s iconic Black Wall Street — which was destroyed in a racially motivated massacre just over 100 years ago — Combs says, “I’m about empowering Black minds, Black ideas, Black businesses. That’s my focus. I used to be looking for the next Biggie. Now I’m looking for the next entrepreneur that I can help support through resources and knowledge. My purpose has leveled up.”

Dina Sahim, who has been co-managing Combs at SALXCO alongside company chief Wassim “Sal” Slaiby since 2021, says there’s a reason why her client has helped foster the careers of so many other stars: “He doesn’t take days off. Every minute of every single day is spent doing something that contributes to his growth as a person, as a businessman and to the people around him. He didn’t get to where he is by mistake. And he lives to perpetuate wealth and inspiration. He wants everybody to eat like he’s eating; wants to teach everyone to take what they have, build on it and create an empire.”

But make no mistake: Combs is still all about having fun as he jubilantly navigates his return to music’s center stage. “I’m a 26-year-old in a 53-year-old body,” the MTV Video Music Awards’ (VMAs) newly minted Global Icon Award honoree says with a laugh. “There are still a lot of things I want to do on my Diddy list. So yeah, I’m back. Just in my bag and having fun. Whenever it feels like work, I’ll leave.”

Combs photographed on August 21, 2023 in Los Angeles.

Austin Hargrave

First things first: What prompted you to return the publishing rights to the Bad Boy artists and writers?

I decided to reassign publishing rights to the whole catalog in May or June 2021. The news is just now coming out because it took time to finalize everything. But this was during the time that I was holding the Grammys to task. I was also getting major offers for the catalog during the [acquisition] frenzy back then. When I was looking at the catalog and everything, I was put in a position where I felt like I had to look in the mirror. I had to make sure that what I was standing for was my total truth. We live in a time where things are constantly evolving. And it was about reform for me. It was me looking at ways I could reform things as a person that’s been asking for change. It was just the right and obvious thing to do; something I’m proud I did. As a businessman, there comes a time when you have to pick purpose over profit. I’m glad that I’ve seen both sides. As a businessman, I’ve evolved and was blessed to be in a position to give the publishing back.

Ma$e was very vocal about reclaiming his publishing rights. Have the two of you reconciled?

Everything’s cool and good now. You know, we’re brothers and brothers fight. I love him and that’s it.

The other big recent news is the release of your long-promised ode to R&B, The Love Album: Off the Grid. Why a return to recording at this point in your career?

It’s been 13 years since Last Train to Paris. When it came out, it kind of broke my heart because people didn’t understand it right away. It was a bit before its time, and I know I was in my ego.

What didn’t they understand?

I had to compromise the uncut Blackness and soul of what I was trying to do, like on the song “Coming Home.” I have the talent as a producer, you know, to make a No. 1 record. But that’s very dangerous because sometimes that record may not be authentic or your intentions aren’t in the right place. My intentions were to get another No. 1 record instead of keeping the album uncut and soulful.

As time went on, people were able to connect with the album, and it’s become a cult classic. But for a couple of years after that, I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t hearing the sounds. Then I started just dealing with life and had to go through a healing journey. When I came out of that, I was like, “What do I want to do that makes me happy?” And it was, “I need to get back to music.” So I immediately said, “I’m going to start a new label called Love Records, and I’m going to focus on R&B and bring back what it’s missing: that soul, that love, that unapologetic Blackness, that expression of vulnerability and on a different, higher frequency.”

The album sounds very autobiographical. Was that also one of your intentions this time around?

Yes. This time I decided, “I’m going to just bare my soul and give people my truth.” So this is my love story through all of my different relationships. It’s about going away for 48 hours with a young lady, turning the phones off, locking in and connecting. We should all go off the grid with our significant other, whoever it is you love, and get to know each other better. And I had the musical vision for my story. I was like, “First, I’m going to make some R&B music for dancing to make her feel comfortable, then some slow love- and baby-making music for the strokers, then some baby-don’t-leave-me music.” And I have some of the best — and my favorite — voices in R&B telling my love story. What I’m bringing back to the game is that Puffy sound, not following any trends or algorithms. I’m not knocking anything that’s out there, but a lot of things are just so toxic.

Combs photographed on August 21, 2023 in Los Angeles.

Austin Hargrave

Why has R&B become such an important crusade for you?

My first love is R&B. The first record that I produced was the remix of “Come and Talk to Me” by Jodeci. And from there going on to Mary J. Blige and, you know, to being the king of hip-hop soul.

When I was younger, R&B saved my life. I thought I was going to be a football player. Then I got hurt on my last day of camp as a senior. My heart was broken; I didn’t have a B plan. And that music really saved my life. Dancing in the clubs in New York, getting the chance to be picked up as a background dancer and seeing the industry that I fell in love with saved me. Then as life goes on, you get hit with so many things: losing the mother of my children, losing my girlfriend; just being hurt, down and lost. R&B helped me find myself and get back on my feet again. So I can’t wait for people to hear how I’ve come full circle.

In fact, I’ve come full circle on so many things. It’s rare, having a career of 30 years and still having the ability to make relevant music without selling out or trying to be on somebody else’s wave. I’m here to unify us, the whole R&B community. I returned to my roots of production; those sensibilities like when I was just starting out at 23. As a student of the game, I’m working with all the new, younger producers. We have a nice new crew of Hitmen that has been assembled to take this to the next level. I’m learning from them and their fresh energy, and they’re learning from me. That’s one of the things that I’m always going to be: a platform. I went from being on the stage to becoming the stage. So launching some new artists on the album was also a definite priority.

Why did you say last year that R&B is dead?

When I said, “R&B is dead,” I wanted to wake up the R&B universe and shed some light on it. My intention was to do exactly what’s happened. We’re now in this R&B renaissance. After leaving the game for so long and coming back, I realized there was a lack of resources, a lack of support from radio, a lack of belief. When I said [that], it wasn’t being said in a negative way. It was also part of unifying us in getting back to our Blackness, getting off that computer and getting back into feeling. If you ain’t got no feeling, you dead. So I’m here to bring back that feeling.

There are a lot of artists out there, of course, pushing the envelope with different styles of R&B. And I’m seeing people step their game up. This renaissance has such incredible artists from Summer Walker and SZA to The Weeknd and Brent Faiyaz … so much richness. But I believe we have to make some noise to be heard more and get the same resources to be able to compete. This genre deserves to be put in a position to win. R&B and hip-hop are not the same.

I’m glad to hear you say that because many people in the industry keep putting R&B under the hip-hop banner.

I’ve had conversations with some of the people in power, and almost all the people in power are not from the R&B community or the culture. That’s when you get the lack of understanding and resources. To them, it just sounds like the same thing. So I’m in a season of total independence. I had an experience with Motown where it was like, “I’ve come too far to ask somebody that isn’t where I’m from about cultural and artistic things. If I’m going to bet on anybody, I’m going to bet on the people I believe in.” So I decided to go independent with Love Records and Bad Boy. I decided to come back into the game with bolder ideas of ownership, distribution and future manufacturing because those are the things that we as a people are cut out of.

Since #TheShowMustBePaused, has the music industry overall made any substantial progress in terms of diversity, equity and inclusion?

We have some representation … Shout out and all due respect to everybody that’s in power. But [for most people], there’s still somebody over them, a white man that they have to get permission from to do something. And it’s always been the same, no matter what the industry. When you’re independent, you don’t have to ask that permission. You can do what you want to do. It’s time for change. And the only way you get change is you’ve got to make the change — and not just change progress. It’s all a bunch of bulls–t. Diversity isn’t about inclusion; diversity is about sharing power. And nothing has changed. It’s gotten worse.

What about the changes the Recording Academy has made since you put the organization on notice in 2020 for the Grammys never respecting Black music “to the point that it should be”?

They went right to work immediately. There’s a lot of work to be done, but radical steps have been made. And that’s really what I’m on: radical change. Not making tiny steps. Me making those statements made them look at themselves, made me look at myself and made the whole industry have to look at itself and our [collective] responsibility toward evolving through diversity, through economics and through this human race where everybody just wants to be better. But it wasn’t just me; there were a bunch of us [Black executives] that stepped up behind the scenes as a collective in pushing for change. And the Academy really responded in a responsible way. So now it’s also up to artists to understand how to get in there and really utilize the academy for their benefit.

Speaking of change, you signed with SALXCO for management. What was behind that decision?

Finding the right manager is hard. Someone that’s going to be kind of obsessed about every move you have going on as much as you would be. That’s what you hope for: to find someone with that kind of talent, who can actually tell you something worthwhile and understands a bigger picture. For example, one of the big decisions we’ve made is that my first concert will be in Europe, not in America, as we make this a global release. There were a lot of things that affected the whole energy behind how this project is being rolled out and positioned. So I respect Sal’s opinion and vision. And he and Dina make it enjoyable.

Combs photographed on August 21, 2023 in Los Angeles.

Austin Hargrave

In addition to celebrating your 30th anniversary in music, REVOLT is marking its 10th birthday. What’s your vision for the network moving forward?

To make it not just the biggest Black-owned network but the biggest media company that I can. I’m not pigeonholing myself. Again, nobody’s going to give us power, and they’re not going to share it with us. That’s why 10 years ago, I named my network REVOLT, because we have to take our quality of life back. There’s so much value and information. And when the Black media doesn’t have an outlet that’s controlled by somebody of color, then it’s not truly a Black free press. REVOLT is the only foundation right now that’s going in that direction. But it takes time. I own 65% of REVOLT, so we could change the narrative. I’m investing in the Black future with REVOLT. It’s not a hustle, not a money play. Everything I do is to make sure that I do my best to break down the barriers. Media is one of the most important and powerful parts of freedom.

As far as our business strategy, we’re in acquisition mode to really build a Black-owned media conglomerate. That’s why we were looking at BET and at a couple of other businesses. BET is definitely the mecca, the originator of Black media, and still is. So just the thought of unifying … We’re not going to be able to reach our highest level of success in the media world, like a Rupert Murdoch, if we don’t unify. Like me, Tyler Perry and Byron Allen. We have a responsibility because it’s like 15 of us getting money, but 10 billion people in the world. We need to pool our resources, everybody from LeBron James and Issa Rae to Tracee Ellis Ross to Jada Pinkett [Smith] and Queen Latifah. That’s what I’m pushing for: unity in a disruptive way that’s never been done before. Having such a media platform is one of the most powerful tools in changing our trajectory.

Given your busy September with the VMAs, the album rollout and the REVOLT World summit, is the long-awaited Verzuz battle between you and Jermaine Dupri still on the table for this month?

The only Verzuz I want to have right now is Puff Daddy versus Diddy. The only person I’m in competition with is myself. (Smiles.) But the battle with Jermaine isn’t off the table. We’re still trying to work it out, and I definitely look forward to that.

You entered Forbes’ billionaire rappers circle last year. Who’s on their way from hip-hop’s next generation?

Nipsey Hussle, to me, was that young Puff version. But one person that I can say right now is Travis Scott. I can relate to how he’s diversifying his portfolio and really understanding how to take it to the next level. I also think Yung Miami [aka Caresha Brownlee] from the City Girls. She reminds me of Oprah with the endless possibilities that she has as far as her clothing line, television shows, performances, live podcasts. I really respect both of their hustles and see them being able to break through.

Despite this being the 50th-anniversary year of hip-hop, music pundits have written stories about hip-hop’s lack of top-charting singles and albums in 2023. What’s your take on the genre’s evolution into 2024?

Right now, people are looking for something fresh. Everything’s been so monotonous and low frequency with everybody sounding so much like each other. However, I think you’re going to see a balance. You’re still going to have your ratchet stuff, you’re still going to have the turn-up. But people are going to come up with new styles. It’s time. The beauty of it is that you can make your own type of music and cultivate your own community. When you have 8 billion people in the world, you can do all right if you have 2 million in your fan base. I just see hip-hop constantly evolving and constantly melding with different types of music. There’s Afro beats melding with trap melding with what’s going on in London melding with what’s going on in dance music. Everything’s just coming together.

The smile on your face as you say all this … it’s like maybe seeing the younger Sean during the Uptown days.

Definitely. I’ve gotten a chance to look at everything with new, fresh eyes. I learned that from my baby … You know, I just had a baby. And the baby looks around at everything. So I started to look around, hearing things and being more open-minded. The future of hip-hop, I think, is really looking up, especially with AI coming in. I think it’s going to have an impact; that it will be another category of music. But also looking at older hip-hop and R&B artists selling out arenas … it’s a wealthy season right now for music in general.

As you reflect on your career thus far, how do you view your legacy as an elder statesman of hip-hop alongside Dr. Dre and Jay-Z?

We’re all different people at different stages in our lives, you know what I’m saying? But there’s only one Diddy. There’s only one Jay-Z. There’s only one Dr. Dre. We’re all good where we’re at, and we’re in our purpose. I’m living my purpose as far as coming in and making people feel something. Breaking down barriers and showing people how to hustle, make money, make a career and living — and be successful.