magazine
Page: 32
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.
Although British rock band The Last Dinner Party scored a top 10 alternative hit with their debut single, for the five women that comprise the group, they’d been preparing for this moment for years. Just before beginning university in 2020, lead singer Abigail Morris, bassist Georgia Davies and vocalist/guitarist Lizzie Mayland crossed paths and became fast friends, bonding over musical interests. (Morris and Davies attended King’s College London; Mayland at Goldsmiths.) “We would go to gigs all the time, researching and thinking about starting a band,” Morris explains. “We were very intellectual about it for a long time.”
They soon recruited lead guitarist Emily Roberts and vocalist/keyboardist Aurora Nischevi, both of whom were involved in the local music circuit. The five began writing music together at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, though their first release wouldn’t come for nearly three years — but the wait paid off. “Nothing Matters,” the cinematic alt-rock debut single that arrived in April has become a force at radio, reaching a new high of No. 8 on Billboard’s Adult Alternative Airplay chart dated Sept. 23.
While fleshing out its sound, the group built a fan base by testing its material in pubs and small venues around London. “In the age of TikTok, people thought unless you have a song go viral, there’s no way of generating a following,” Morris says. “Ours just felt like a more natural thing. We had much more of a jumping off point from playing shows to seven people who don’t give a f–k to [then] playing much larger shows.”
From left: Georgia Davies, Emily Roberts, Abigail Morris, Aurora Nischevi, and Lizzie Mayland of The Last Dinner Party photographed on August 30, 2023 in London.
Nicole Nodland
From left: Emily Roberts, Lizzie Mayland, Georgia Davies, Abigail Morris and Aurora Nischevi of The Last Dinner Party photographed on August 30, 2023 in London.
Nicole Nodland
As the band’s stature in the local scene grew, it wasn’t long before it gained traction in the industry, too: after Q Prime’s Tara Richardson heard about The Last Dinner Party through an audio engineer that worked with the act in the studio, she received four “very impressive” demos, she says. Subsequently, she saw the band perform live in early 2022, and almost immediately, she signed the act to the management firm. By May, the group had scored a record deal with Island. “It’s just so refreshing to see young, strong women,” Richardson says. “They’re not arrogant; they’re not out to prove themselves. They’re just doing what they do, and if you don’t like it, they’re completely fine with it.”
By the start of 2023, with a team in place, the group prepared to officially launch its recording career with “Nothing Matters.” “We built a reputation around the London live circuit and had a bit of buzz around our first release,” says Davies. “This wasn’t a dress rehearsal.” Adds Morris: “You only get one debut.”
With a swelling bridge and a cheeky hook, “Nothing Matters” originally began as a “slow, sad ballad” that Morris wrote about a then-current romantic relationship. “I very rarely write love songs — I only write about heartbreak,” she says with a laugh. “It’s just easier and more dramatic. [But] I was with my boyfriend at the time and I was very happy.” Davies remembers the bandmates then “throwing everything at” the simple piano ballad in the studio, playing around with guitar solos, horn sections and vocal tones. “It was really a song that became itself once it was in the hands of the band,” Davies says. “It was one completely different thing when it first started and it needed to be played live and have everyone’s input.”
[embedded content]
The song officially arrived on April 19, and was paired with a Pride & Prejudice-coded music video that delivered dark academia with an edgy girl-band twist. “It captures the spirit of what we’re doing now,” Morris says. “ ‘Nothing Matters’ has that maximalist, tortuous freedom that we have and want for the rest of the record.” By the summer, “Nothing Matters” had become a radio hit: in early July, it debuted on Adult Alternative Airplay; the following month, it did so on Rock & Alternative Airplay.
Since the breakthrough hit arrived, The Last Dinner Party has grown its touring platform well beyond the pubs from their early days, supporting Florence + the Machine and Hozier on separate runs and performing at major festivals including Glastonbury and Reading & Leeds. The band will soon embark on a 10-stop U.K. headlining tour, followed by five dates in the U.S. It’ll have two other singles in tow for the trek: The bouncy pop-rock “Sinner” dropped in late June, and its next release, which the band calls a “left turn,” is due to arrive by the end of September.
With a debut album expected sometime in 2024, The Last Dinner Party’s members seem completely in sync: Morris and Davies finishing each other’s sentences multiple times during our interview, including when discussing what keeps the band’s emotional bond so strong. “I think what’s missing in a lot of artists [is] a commitment to themselves because they want to seem cool or ironic,” says Davies. “I want people to see our sincerity and be themselves too.”
“We advise them, but at the end of the day, they know what they’re doing,” says Richardson. “They have mood boards — everything has already been discussed. Excuse the French, but they’re not f–king around.”
From left: Georgia Davies, Lizzie Mayland, Abigail Morris, Emily Roberts and Aurora Nischevi of The Last Dinner Party photographed on August 30, 2023 in London.
Nicole Nodland
From left: Georgia Davies, Abigail Morris, Emily Roberts, Aurora Nischevi and Lizzie Mayland of The Last Dinner Party photographed on August 30, 2023 in London.
Nicole Nodland
A version of this story will appear in the Sept. 23, 2023 issue of Billboard.
The inspiration for “Johnny Dang” came to That Mexican OT (Outta Texas) in an unexpectedly casual manner — while listening to Slick Rick’s flow in “Children’s Story,” the hip-hop legend’s 1989 top 5 hit on the Hot R&B/Hip-Hop Songs chart. For the cowboy hat-donning Texas rapper, creative outbursts arrive with no notice. “Louis Vuitton umbrella when I walk through the rain,” he raps with a familiar lilt while on the phone with Billboard.
Explore
Explore
See latest videos, charts and news
See latest videos, charts and news
“Johnny Dang” is also an ode to the highly sought after Texas jeweler of the same name who appears in the music video. Johnny Dang is arguably hip-hop’s go-to jeweler, designing extravagant chains and grills for artists like Beyoncé, Migos, Nicki Minaj, Travis Scott, Ye and many more.
Another surreal experience for the Bay City, Texas rapper came through enlisting Houston hip-hop legend Paul Wall and rap newcomer DRODi, who is OT’s close friend. “It was cool, it really was. But it’s mostly crazy,” OT says about pulling Wall to the track. “It’s cool to bring it back [home] because my uncles grew up jamming [to his music], you know?… And DRODi is one of my best friends. It’s beautiful watching him grow.”
The results have paid off. The rustic single with a slow-burning trap beat is quickly climbing the Billboard charts, making it That Mexican OT (real name Virgil René Gazca) and DRODI’s first time on the Hot 100. The song — which was released May 26 via Manifest/GoodTalk/Good Money Global — debuted at No. 97 and reached a new high at No. 65 on the Hot 100 dated Sep. 1. It currently boasts 20 million YouTube views, and over 36 million Spotify streams.
He is effortlessly putting Tejano (a Mexican person from Texas) rap on the map by creating a style that’s captivating and truly authentic. Billboard caught up with the artist to talk about making the Hot 100, how lucha libre culture inspired his latest album Lonestar Luchador and why he’s a proud “country boy before anything.”
[embedded content]
What went through your head when you found out that you made the Hot 100.
Nothing. I don’t really focus on that. I feel that when I focus on my accomplishments, I get big-headed, and I don’t ever want to have to humble myself, nor do I want to ever get comfortable. I stay in total vision to my music. When they hit Billboard, it’s like, all right, cool. But No. [65] is not good enough. I want to be at No. 1.
How did “Johnny Dang” come together? Talk to me about the inspiration.
We were at my apartment, and I was knocking a beat. I didn’t know that they was recording me. [Producer TobiAli] played the “Johnny Dang” beat [and] I was like, “Bet, I need that one. I don’t even need you to show me no more. I only want that one.” He sent it [and] I thought of a word. You know Slick Rick? You know that tun nun nun nun nu nu nu nu nu nu… It’s also from Inspector Gadget, and the “Children’s Story” [song]: “Once upon a time not long ago…” That flow right there, that’s all Slick Rick’s flow. That was the whole inspiration for that [lyric], “Louis Vuitton umbrella when I walk through the rain…” I got the inspiration from Slick Rick.
You have Paul Wall and DRODi on the tracks. How was it working with a Houston rap legend like Paul Wall?
It’s cool to show off in front of my people about it. It really was an accomplishment for me. I’m very grateful for it, and I’m excited about it. I see bigger things for me; I want to do better. That’s all it is. DRODi is one of my best friends, so it’s always beautiful having him in my music.
You got Johnny Dang in the video. What was it like having him there? Did he design your grills?
No, he actually didn’t design my grill. I already had my grill. I had diamonds when I was just plain old Virgil. It was cool watching him be in the video. You could tell he’ll do a good job of making you feel loved and wanted, but you could tell it was strictly about business.
You fuse your Mexican heritage with Texas rap culture. The tattoos, the grill, but also the cowboy hat and boots. Tell me about your style.
I’m a country boy before anything. English was my first [language]. I’m a Texan before anything. I definitely have my Mexican culture — I love my Mexican culture — but I’m a country boy. I’m a Texas Mexican. There’s no Mexican like a Tejano.
[embedded content]
What would you like an outsider that is not from Texas to know about Texas? What is one of the things that you have the most pride in showcasing about Texas?
Just our whole culture, our steelo, our swagger, the cars we drive, how we talk, the things that we choose to do. You know what I’m saying? Everything about Texas is beautiful.
You draw a lot of inspiration from the luchador culture in your album, Lonestar Luchador. How did the luchador become the star in your album?
It just made sense. I don’t put much thinking into it. God put it in my head without me even knowing, and it just came out naturally.
Did you grow up watching a lot of lucha libre?
Yeah, of course. I watched a lot of WWE. I watched lucha libre for sure. [When I went with] my nanny and my tío in the [Mexican] border towns of Matamoros and Nuevo Laredo, where people pass and all that, every time, I had to go get new masks [from the store stands of the border crossing point] and bring them back over here [to the U.S.]. I was surrounded by it, fasho.
Tell me what else you have underway.
I’m continuing to work on this project. Now that I dropped [Lonestar Luchador], every single song on it has a video to it, so I’m going to be continuing to drop videos for the project. And while I’m doing that, I got a tour coming up. My first show on tour is going to be on September 5th and I’m opening up in Denver — Denver always goes crazy for me. I’m touring my music, really, that’s all I can say. I can’t tell you too much. I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprises.
OT, thanks for taking the time to have this chat.
People like you are making my dreams come true. I love this. I don’t know what else I’d be doing. I got zero patience. I got a horrible temper. I already don’t like dealing with people, so this music had to wait for me. I had no choice [and] I thank God. That’s why I go so hard.
A version of this story originally appeared in the Aug. 26, 2023, issue of Billboard.
This fall, Irish singer-songwriter Hozier is hitting the road for a full U.S. tour — his first outing post-pandemic. Following a handful of warmup dates at smaller venues stateside and overseas, his Unreal Unearth tour (in support of his long-awaited third album, of the same name, released Aug. 18) will bring him and his new backing […]
Although Carlos Vives is best known for popularizing Colombian music worldwide, his activities include multiple ventures in his homeland that collectively employ some 250 people.
The singer and his wife, Claudia Elena Vásquez, call their overall enterprise Universo Vives. “We have interplanetary meetings,” jokes Vásquez, who has worked alongside her husband since 2012 and is CEO of the entity.
While Vásquez, a former chemical engineer and entrepreneur, readily admits she “didn’t know much about the music business” before, she has come to effectively oversee this particular universe. The ventures include:
Gaira Música Local Although Vives founded his own record label (named after an area near his hometown of Santa Marta) over 30 years ago, he relaunched it in 2019 with local artists like Gusi and Estereobeats. Gaira, distributed by The Orchard, also releases one-off projects, like Vives’ 2008 album, Pombo Musical, and helps curate artist performances at Cumbia House.
Cumbia HouseFormerly known as Gaira, this successful bar, restaurant and live music club launched in 1998 and has become a must-visit in Bogotá that also houses Vives’ recording studios. A business with 170 employees, it also has franchises at airports in Bogotá and Medellín.
Río Grande Music SchoolLaunched in 2016, the Bogotá school educates children ages 6 to 18 “with the purpose of teaching them how to be original in music without biases,” according to Vásquez. The school has 200 students, with plans to expand its size and provide scholarships for needy children.
Tras La Perla Vives has long supported myriad causes. But his Tras la Perla foundation, created in 2015 and based in Santa Marta, is focused on giving back to the neighborhoods his father introduced him to as a child, particularly El Pescaíto. The low-income historic area is the birthplace of some of Colombia’s top soccer players, “and we think it has great tourism potential,” Vásquez says. “Our goal is to improve Pescaíto and provide infrastructure. We wanted to bring together people who love this city and build projects around it.” With funding support from the private and public sectors, as well as Vives himself, Tras la Perla has finished projects including a House for Dance, a “spectacular” toy library, reading clubs and multiple initiatives in association with Magdalena University, Vásquez says. The venture has also worked to improve infrastructure in Santa Marta’s palafitte townships, where homes are built on stilts over water.
This story originally appeared in the Aug. 26, 2023, issue of Billboard.
Several highlights mark Carlos Vives’ year-long celebration of his three-decade musical career.
In April, the Colombian superstar released Escalona Nunca Se Había Grabado Así, an album that unites the members of his original band — La Provincia — and his longtime accordionist, Egidio Cuadrado, to revisit some of legendary vallenato artist Rafael Escalona’s biggest hits.
In May, Vives launched El Tour de Los 30 to celebrate the 30th anniversary of his breakout album, Clásicos de la Provincia. The outing appropriately kicked off at Colombia’s Vallenato Festival in Valledupar (the Colombian city known as the birthplace of the music that defines Vives’ style), then went through South America. A nine-city U.S. run began Aug. 19 in New York and ends Nov. 5 in Los Angeles.
“He’s undeniably one of the most beloved artists and influential Latin music figures of our time,” says Nelson Albareda, CEO of Vives’ U.S. tour promoter, Loud and Live. “This tour is particularly special because it pays homage to his incredibly innovative 30-year journey of his unique blend of traditional Colombian rhythms with contemporary sounds, which made him a global ambassador of Colombian music.”
During his U.S. tour, Vives will also play a landmark free show on Oct. 14 at Madrid’s Puerta de Alcalá, where tens of thousands are expected. Vives is inviting some of his many Spanish artist friends to perform with him.
The full-circle moment extends to recordings as well. Later this year, Vives will release an album with remastered versions of hits from 1993’s Clásicos de la Provincia and 2009’s Clásicos de la Provincia II. Singles with Juanes and Ryan Castro will precede the set.
And, ever in love with audiovisual content, Vives can be found on Disney+ starring in the musical comedy series The Low Tone Club, for which he plays, aptly, a music teacher with unconventional methods. He also is taping a docu-film about his life that includes archive and touring material, as well as scripted scenes.
This story originally appeared in the Aug. 26, 2023, issue of Billboard.
Little more than a decade ago, Carlos Vives’ career was on the verge of oblivion.
In the late 1990s and early 2000s, he had been one of Latin music’s biggest global stars, with hit albums, sold-out arena tours and a thriving TV presence, thanks to his telegenic looks.
But by 2012, he hadn’t had a recording contract for eight years, had no touring plans or publicist and had split with his management after years of inactivity. Vives remembers picking up the phone and dialing the president of one of the labels where negotiations had stalled.
“He told me, ‘There is nothing we can do for you,’” Vives recalls.
Then, at age 51, Vives staged one of the most remarkable comebacks in Latin music history. He signed a new recording deal with Sony, landed his first No. 1 on Billboard’s Hot Latin Songs chart in nearly a decade — the aptly titled “Volví a Nacer” (I Was Born Again) — and, six months later, earned a No. 1 on Top Latin Albums, his first in nearly a decade, with Corazón Profundo.
Vives has flourished since — as a recording artist, as a touring performer, and, perhaps most importantly, as the de facto keeper of Colombia’s most beloved musical traditions. Widely recognized as the person who took authentic Colombian rhythms like cumbia and vallenato to a global stage, Vives also opened the door to the internationalization of Colombian music, leading to the success of fellow Colombian artists like Maluma, Shakira, Juanes, Fonseca and Feid.
“The most beautiful and magical thing about Carlos is that he behaves as if he started his career today,” says Sony Music Latin Iberia chairman/CEO Afo Verde, who signed Vives after his fallow period. “He respects everyone at every level in the industry. He’s the kind of icon who’s eternal.”
And this icon isn’t slowing down. Vives’ 2023 has included a 30-date tour, a starring role in the Disney+ series The Low Tone Club and the release of new album Escalona Nunca Se Había Grabado Así. He’s also prepping for massive concerts at Madrid’s Puerta de Alcalá in October and in Colombia in December, a testament to his cross-continental appeal.
“Carlos influenced my music in every way,” Maluma says. “My parents were huge fans. Thanks to him, Colombian folklore is known worldwide. He has been a very big inspiration for us and will continue to be so. We owe our roots to Carlos.”
Vives started his career as a singer/TV actor, and he might have ended up doing run-of-the-mill pop had he not been cast in 1991 as the lead role in Escalona, a Colombian series based on the life of fabled vallenato singer-composer Rafael Escalona, who rose in the 1960s to become perhaps the most revered composer in the genre and whose songs remain classics today. On the soundtrack, Vives covered Escalona’s greatest hits in their traditional arrangements — and became an overnight sensation in Colombia and its neighboring countries.
Beyond stardom, the role sparked a quest. Born in Santa Marta, the second-oldest Spanish city in South America, Vives had grown up surrounded by the strains of vallenato, the Colombian coastal music built on accordion riffs and troubadour-style storytelling. At his childhood home, top vallenato artists regularly engaged in jam sessions with his father, a music-loving physician who had attended school with Escalona. In that music, often forgotten and undermined by the pop-loving elite, Vives found his calling.
In 1993, after moving to Bogotá following his parents’ divorce, he released Clásicos de la Provincia, a collection of vallenato standards recorded with a pop and rock sensibility that reflected Vives’ musical DNA as a son of Santa Marta with touches of Bogotá modernism and rock n’ roll. The album made him a major international star and inspired a new generation of Colombian artists who, for the first time, saw their music on a global stage.
“It was only until I heard Clásicos de la Provincia that I felt my music could have the influence and sound of Colombia,” Fonseca says. “Before that, I dreamed of being like Guns N’ Roses, Nirvana, George Michael. Carlos’ music opened my mind.”
In the United States, Clásicos de la Provincia, distributed by PolyGram Latino, debuted at No. 46 on Top Latin Albums and peaked at No. 2 seven months later. It remained on the chart for 86 weeks.
Juanes (left) and Carlos Vives on set for the “Las Mujeres” music video in Bogotá in 2023.
Frankie Jazz
Over the next decade, Vives amassed four No. 1s and nine top 10s on Hot Latin Songs and five top 10s on Top Latin Albums, including one No. 1 (2001’s Déjame Entrar). Recording from the outset with his Colombian band, La Provincia, Vives’ music became progressively more adventuresome but remained linked to his roots. “My commitment is with my locality,” he told Billboard in 2004. “It’s the sound I dreamed for our music but influenced by the world.”
“Carlos bet on Colombia’s identity and making it global,” says his wife, Claudia Elena Vásquez. “He took our roots and our folklore and modernized it. It was the match that sparked the flame.”
That “flame” is what Vives calls el Universo Vives (the Vives Universe), which includes his own label, Gaira Música Local; the Río Grande Music School for children and the venue-restaurant Cumbia House, both in Bogotá; and his nonprofit, Tras la Perla, in Santa Marta.
It all amounts to a beehive of activity that seemed implausible a decade ago. Back in 2004, his second marriage had just dissolved, his touring had ground to a halt, and after his contract with longtime label EMI had expired, he failed to secure another record deal to continue his international career. He didn’t release a single album of original material from 2002 to 2012, save for the 2008 children’s album Pombo Musical.
The flame could have been extinguished were it not for Vásquez — who has lived with Vives since 2007 and is now CEO of Universo Vives — and executive Walter Kolm, who in 2012 was starting his management career after years as a major-label executive.
“I knew I was signing a superstar,” says Kolm, who flew to Colombia to meet with Vives and offer a detailed proposal. “There weren’t that many Latin artists then who could fill arenas like he could, even after being absent. And beyond his music, Carlos was a point of reference for Colombian culture.”
Since his comeback, Vives has placed 12 No. 1s on the Latin Airplay chart, including his 2016 Latin Grammy-winning duet with Shakira, “La Bicicleta,” and two No. 1s on Top Latin Albums. Last year alone, he played 15 U.S. shows that grossed $6.1 million total, according to Billboard Boxscore. On top of that, he has won 17 Latin Grammys and two Grammys.
The artist’s resurrection has been “more than a revival; it has been a rebirth,” Kolm says with a laugh. “That’s why we’ve released so much music. He’s making up for lost time.”
“Carlos opened the door of Colombian folklore to the world and brought the music of the world to our folklore,” Juanes says. “Rock, vallenato, cumbia, caribe, funk, electric guitar, accordion, poetry and charisma. Everything fits in his name.”
To mark the 30th anniversary of his breakthrough album, Vives reflected on the past, present and future of his influential career.
Gusi (left) and Carlos Vives celebrated Gusi’s signing with Gaira Música Local at Cumbia House in Bogotá in 2020.
Daniel Amézquita
On Clásicos de la Provincia in 1993, you gave classic vallenatos a shot of steroids, incorporating electric bass, guitar and drums. Did you ever think it would go as far as it did?
I never thought doing the music we did would lead to success. Plus, back then, we were told doing vallenatos, or doing them this way, was not the right music for me. At the time, it was about finding an authentic path and breaking the industry paradigms about what was folk, pop or rock.
How did you do that?
We opened a different mindset. We took Colombian instruments and electrified them using rock instruments; like taking the caja vallenata to an electric guitar or bass, or playing the cumbia beat on a Stratocaster. We were “happy illegals,” as Gabriel García Márquez used to say. We thought we’d last forever, and we were happy doing that and playing in bars and on TV. Maybe that’s why we dared do it in the first place.
You had nothing to lose…
Exactly. And when it started to work, it caught us with our pants down because we really weren’t expecting it. But I loved being connected with my dad, my essence, with that lost world of my childhood.
Clásicos de la Provincia made you a star. But what followed next, 1995’s La Tierra del Olvido, really consolidated your success. Can you explain why?
Clásicos de la Provincia triggered pride in vallenato, but it was also a new sound for our songs. But on my next album, I couldn’t continue to just record classic vallenatos. I had to write my own songs.
The first thing I had learned about vallenato was that it was the son of cumbia, and it opened up to a much bigger universe that touched our entire Colombian culture. It was a broader musical DNA that I called la tierra del olvido [the forgotten land]. I came from recording ballads and I was searching for my identity. I was forgetting where I came from, and that’s why I called the album [and its hit title track] La Tierra del Olvido. I saw myself reflected in that album cover, where I’m standing in front of the Caribbean and at the foot of the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta, the Colombian Tibet and home to our indigenous cultures.
Carlos Vives on set for the “La Tierra del Olvido” music video in Santa Marta.
Socorro Arango
This tour celebrates Clásicos de la Provincia. How do you summarize 30 years in a single evening?
It’s an opportunity to go on a trip. We began on a TV series singing vallenato old-school, the way tradition dictated they needed to be performed. So you see me singing with a conjunto vallenato, “La Casa en el Aire,” in the way it was done 30 years ago. I tell the story from the beginning, going through “La Tierra del Olvido,” “El Amor de Mi Tierra.” You witness how the sound grows to what I call “the rock of my town,” growing the instrumentation and showing how we changed the way we “tropicalized” with more rock-leaning patterns. It shows how very traditional fare can give way to very edgy stuff. We play 22 to 23 songs [in] two-and-a-half hours.
You had that eight-year hiatus between 2005 and 2012 before you came roaring back. Do you realize today how rare it is to have these second chances?
I think we planted something in our people that they valued and took as their own. And I think that lived on, despite bad management and my not having taken advantage of certain things. When Walter [Kolm] came along, I got a team. I haven’t met a manager that believes more in me than Walter or anyone who believes more in me than Claudia, my wife. But my marketing team were the Colombians who took my songs with them everywhere they went. Then the Venezuelans and Puerto Ricans came along, and we recognized ourselves in that diversity that’s our Hispanic America. That also allowed this comeback.
Carlos Vives celebrated his birthday (Aug. 7) with manager Kolm (right) at Cumbia House in 2021.
Frankie Jazz
You mentioned your wife. How important is it to sleep next to your biggest fan?
An artist needs someone close who loves him. And I don’t mean just the love of your life, but someone who understands your work and who has a vision to grow and dignify it. What Walter and Claudia have done is incredible. They came to my life to love and value my work. It’s something I needed.
Many people don’t know that aside from learning music in your home, you also played in Bogotá bars for years, you did theater, you produced TV shows. How important was it to put in those 10,000 hours?
It was vital to work as part of a team in a theater group, in a TV cast — getting up early, having responsibilities with a group and with a project.
There has always been a craft. I learned a lot at a bar called Ramón Antigua where I was a waiter. We had a singing contest every night. My friends from college would come and make me sing. And eventually, the owner would travel and leave me in charge. I’d put together the band, book groups like Guayacán and Niche [in their beginnings]. Can you imagine? We were always making something up.
You tour constantly. What does live performance mean to you?
It’s my comfort zone, the place where I feel safest. Being onstage means going back to all the things I cherish from my childhood and growing up with music. It’s connecting with my true roots, and I feel that’s what allows me to connect with fans. They feel the same way I do, and that’s why they’re there.
Carlos Vives (kneeling, fourth from left) and musical collaborators onstage during the VIVES Tour in Orlando, Fla., in 2021.
Sergio Rodriguez
You spent your early years in Santa Marta, the backbone of your music. But then you moved to Bogotá after your parents’ divorce. How did these very different cities shape your music?
I like to sing everything. That’s how we were raised. Even music in English, although I can’t sing in English. My challenge was, “How can I do it in my own style? How can I be modern without copying anyone?” I didn’t want to be a copy of a copy of a copy. That’s the Bogotá factor, being raised in a city full of culture. I loved what I did, but I was missing an element of authenticity and of understanding the musical processes around the world. I wanted to understand where Elvis and the British [artists] got their inspiration. I wanted to understand where the music came from.
You are a true authority in Colombian music and its roots, and the author of several books on the subject, which is remarkable for a pop star. Why is this important to you?
Understanding who you are is vital. For example, discovering through music that Spain is a key ingredient, even if people denigrate being Spanish. We don’t stop being Spaniards simply because we gained our independence. Independence is a political state, but blood, last names and the cultural footprints that come from being a mix of Spaniards and those born in our countries is something that doesn’t go away, and it’s part of our music. The same thing happens with our African and indigenous roots. That is who we are. It was so important to get on this little boat called vallenato, which is tiny but has taken me to all these other worlds. This has been a 30-year journey. A journey where we found a world far richer and far more connected through music. We live in a world of separation, distrusting others if they speak Spanish or English, and music shows us a much more united, far more beautiful world.
Let’s put a debate to rest: Was cumbia born in Colombia?
Cumbia was born in the towns of the Río Grande [in Colombia]. The cumbia rhythmic pattern is a pre-Hispanic native American pattern that is unique to cumbia; it’s not in any other indigenous or African place in the world. That’s why it’s so endemic and so unique. The shores of the Magdalena River are the capital of cumbia, and that’s where we celebrate the cumbia festival. But the Spaniards brought a writing style, metrics, décimas, the red handkerchiefs, the white dress.
Carlos Vives at the Río Grande Music School in Bogotá in 2022.
Edgar Ibarra
You’ve never sung in English. Do you see more non-Spanish speakers reacting to your music now than before?
Totally. If you play Royal Albert Hall, Colombians and Latins come to see you, but they don’t come alone. They bring their British friends with them. It’s the same on the other end; we paid to see British bands in Bogotá and didn’t understand a damn thing they were singing, but we loved it. Today, musicians connect with each other in many languages, and that’s so much more beautiful. That has been very important to me. That they take me here and there, that our flags are out there, that there’s so much more connection between artists who sing in Spanish and English. We’re part of the same industry. You’re popular, I’m popular; we all connect.
Aside from your music school in Bogotá, you also have Tras la Perla, a foundation in Santa Marta that works to improve many different aspects of the city, even though you no longer live there. Why is it located there?
Maybe because of my ties to my father and his work as a doctor. We inherited the love people felt for him. That’s one factor, and the other is the tragedy of seeing a magical place that has been forgotten. It’s unfair. I work in a neighborhood called Pescadito, where great athletes like El Pibe and [Radamel] Falcao were born and raised, and we want to improve it and attract people and tourism. And I also work in Ciénaga Grande, the delta of the Magdalena River, which is an important musical capital.
Colombia is very politicized now, with extreme views on each side. And you are such a visible Colombian icon. How do you handle that?
The world is politicized. Colombia is merely a reflection. Nowadays, being a rebel means being on the opposite side of someone else, on the left or the right. No. No. I’m the rebel. I’m a rebel because I’m Colombian. I took on that responsibility and I decided to make music based on our roots that incorporated the music of the world. Being Colombian is understanding who we are and recognizing all that we are. I don’t take sides [for politics]. I take sides for my country.
Carlos Vives performed at Cumbia House last December 2022.
Santiago Romero
Carlos Vives: Five Vital Releases
Clásicos de la Provincia, 1993 PolyGram Latino/Sonolux
The album that introduced the Vives sound covered classic vallenatos with a mix of traditional and rock instrumentation, a revolutionary approach that rocked fans and fellow musicians. Choice track: “La Gota Fría”
La Tierra del Olvido, 1995PolyGram Latino/Sonolux
Vives’ stylistic fusion solidified on this glorious nostalgic set that also established him as a songwriter and took his sound and that of his band, La Provincia, further into the pop and rock realms. Choice track: “La Tierra del Olvido”
Courtesy Gaira Musica Local
Déjame Entrar, 2001Capitol Latin
While Vives established himself on a global scale with 1999’s El Amor de Mi Tierra, Déjame Entrar unified his international appeal thanks to original global hits that had vallenato roots and broad-appeal pop melodies. “Carito,” which talks about a boy’s crush on his American English teacher, presciently united cultures and languages. Choice track: “Carito”
Corazón Profundo, 2013Sony Music Latin
Vives’ comeback after an eight-year halt on recording originals is chock-full of joyous, irresistible hits, including the first major collaboration, with Brazilian star Michel Teló. It marked a new stage in Vives’ career and sound. Choice track: “Volví a Nacer”
Cumbiana, 2020Sony Music Latin
Vives’ exploration of the roots of cumbia and vallenato, the two rhythms that define Colombian music and his style, continued on this adventuresome release. It features collaborations with artists from around the world, including Panama’s Rubén Blades, Spain’s Alejandro Sanz, Jamaica’s Ziggy Marley and Colombian-Canadian Jessie Reyez. Choice track: “For Sale”
This story originally appeared in the Aug. 26, 2023, issue of Billboard.
All that Jorja Smith likes to do is write and sing — which makes separating herself from her career “a bit tricky” sometimes. “I’ll have days where I’m like, ‘Oh, my God, I wish I gave myself a different name because I need to switch Jorja Smith off,’ ” she says. “I don’t want to be Jorja Smith all of the time.”
Struggling to find balance not only speaks to her Gemini zodiac sign, says the 26-year-old artist, but is also at the core of her highly anticipated second album, Falling or Flying, out Sept. 29 on her longtime independent label, FAMM. “I don’t really have an in between. I’m either happy or sad, obsessed or completely unfocused, up or down,” she says. “I feel like I’m flying in my career, and then other times, I feel like I’m falling because the pressure can feel [like] too much.”
At 18, Smith left her hometown of Walsall, England, and traveled two-and-a-half hours south to London in order to pursue music full time. Her secondary school yearbook named her most likely to become famous — and she quickly ascended to become one of the United Kingdom’s brightest stars. In 2016, Smith uploaded her socially conscious debut single, “Blue Lights,” to SoundCloud, and it garnered nearly half a million plays in one month. The song eventually appeared on her 2018 critically acclaimed debut album, Lost & Found, which boasted slow-burning songs that blended R&B, reggae, hip-hop, jazz and neo-soul production with a songwriting approach inspired by Amy Winehouse. All the while, Smith earned co-signs from Drake, Kendrick Lamar and Stormzy, as well as acclaim in the form of a 2018 BRITs Critics’ Choice Award and a 2019 Grammy nod for best new artist.
But fulfilling her yearbook prophecy had a disorienting effect on Smith, who became famous in her early 20s. After tiding fans over with the 2021 EP Be Right Back, she moved home to Walsall at the beginning of 2023. “I went back when I finally decided I’ve had enough of London … It’s a bit overwhelming sometimes,” she says with a sigh. “I moved back and I feel a lot more balanced. I feel more myself now.”
On Falling or Flying, Smith soars over sprightly tracks that experiment with acoustic indie-rock production, syncopated basslines and retro synth chords. She enlisted U.K. jungle DJ-producer Nia Archives to remix the album’s second single, “Little Things,” which captured a flirty, feverish energy quintessential for clubbing in its original form. But some songs demand the coziness of a jazz club, where Smith’s lithe, velvety vocals can fill the space on their own — and quiet those around her. While Lost & Found comprised teenage love songs Smith had written when she was 16, Falling or Flying finds the singer stepping “into womanhood” and being more sure of herself than ever before. As she sings on “Backwards,” “I stand here and I look down on myself and I am so proud.” Meanwhile, on tracks like “Broken Is the Man” and “Try Me,” she challenges past lovers and harsh critics.
[embedded content]
Walsall production duo DameDame* — Smith has known one of its members since she was 15 — was responsible for most of Falling or Flying, another sign that returning to her roots better served her music. “We laughed, ate food, sang, cried, jammed some more,” she says. “It wasn’t like, ‘I need to make the album uptempo.’ It was just, ‘Let’s mess around, have fun and see what happens.’ ”
Smith teases that she’ll take Falling or Flying on the road for her first headlining run in five years. “That’s all I want to do,” she says, beaming. “That’s where I feel at home. In Walsall and onstage is where I feel like, ‘OK, I can just be me.’ ”
This story originally appeared in the Aug. 26, 2023, issue of Billboard.
Holly Humberstone has a confession. Despite the title of her forthcoming debut album, Paint My Bedroom Black, she has never actually doused her surroundings in darkness. In reality, her bedroom in the London flat she shares with her sister is what she describes as “so girly.”
But when thinking of what she wanted her first album to signify, Humberstone kept considering the memorable debuts that preceded her own. “I feel like so many artists build such a strong world around them and such an identity, and I feel like I’m changing all the time,” the alternative pop artist says. “I’m 23. I probably should sort of know who I am at this point. I just really don’t.”
[embedded content]
That familiar uncertainty is not only visualized by the title of the album (out Oct. 13 on Darkroom/Geffen/Polydor Records) but also felt across its 13 songs, which embrace the duality of feeling apprehensive and alive all at once.
“I didn’t do it on purpose, but to me, the album sounds like it’s got two sides to it, like there’s two sides of me that I didn’t realize were coexisting,” Humberstone says. She thinks the consistency comes through in her vulnerability. “There’s something really empowering about being able to share so much of myself with people I don’t know.”
For much of Humberstone’s career, this has been all she knows. She released her debut single, the poignant “Deep End,” in January 2020, just before the world shut down from the pandemic, but worked tirelessly to emerge a household name. She released her first EP, Falling Asleep at the Wheel, in August 2020 on Platoon; after scoring a major-label deal the following year, she released her second EP that fall. By the end of 2021, she had won the BRIT Award for rising star, and by the end of 2022, she had opened on tour for Olivia Rodrigo and Girl in Red.
For a self-described homebody who grew up in rural Grantham, England — where “there’s nothing f–king going on” — the transition was a bit overwhelming. “You just have to adapt, and writing really helped me,” says Humberstone, who wrote and recorded much of Paint My Bedroom Black in between gigs. She describes songs like lead single “Antichrist” and the dancefloor-ready “Flatlining” as more “extroverted,” while the title track and songs such as “Elvis Impersonators” “feel like wanting to shut things out and be on my own.”
That honesty has bolstered some of Humberstone’s most affecting songs and helped establish her voice — from “Deep End,” about supporting her sister’s mental health, to the more uptempo 2022 single “Scarlett,” which mined her best friend’s one-sided relationship and ultimate breakup. On Paint My Bedroom Black, Humberstone looks inward, writing about her own attempts at relationships and the guilt that accompanies being gone so often.
On “Superbloodmoon,” which features Darkroom labelmate d4vd (marking the first time Humberstone has welcomed a collaborator on one of her own tracks), the pair sing of being far from home. “It’s a cold kind of love, from a distance … It’s a desperate kind of love that I’m missing,” they sing in longing harmony. And on “Kissing in Swimming Pools,” she sings of “wanting to hold down some form of relationship with somebody that I really liked” only to realize (and ultimately admit) how her career challenges that.
[embedded content]
No matter the production style or vocal delivery of each song, though, Humberstone’s brash honesty puts her in the same class of current stellar songwriters like fellow emerging artist Gracie Abrams and even her idol, Phoebe Bridgers. (Humberstone says the latter’s Stranger in the Alps is one of her most-loved debut albums; when asked whom she would recruit for her own boygenius supergroup, she picks beabadoobee and Arlo Parks, saying that women in music right now “are running the whole show.”)
“Honestly, I think writing my songs is my way of protecting [my personal life] because I can take control and tell the stories how I want them to be told,” she says. Even so, she does worry about its reception. “I low-key hate releasing music,” she nearly whispers. “I love the writing process, and I love having [songs] in my pocket. I feel like it’s my dirty little secret. And then when it goes out, it’s just scary.”
Her best solution so far? Keep writing through it — she’s already thinking of her next project. Coming off sets at Lollapalooza Chicago, Outside Lands and the Reading and Leeds festivals in England, she may even continue her habit of writing on the road.
“It does feel like I’ve poured a lot of myself into [this album], and I am really, really proud of every song,” she says. “I’m just grateful that I am able to make [an album at all], and it sounds really cheesy, but that people will be waiting for it on the other side.”
This story originally appeared in the Aug. 26, 2023, issue of Billboard.
While J Balvin still hasn’t shared the name of his upcoming album, he notes that he had decided on the title before he recorded a note. “My albums have always started with their names,” the Colombian star says. “That way, we let ourselves be guided by the vibe.” In the past, he has mostly used one-word titles: Jose (2021), Colores (2020), Oasis (2019), Vibras (2018) and Energía (2017).
He says that the mood of his latest, arriving this fall, was sheer joy. Recorded at RAK Studios and Abbey Road during a monthlong stay in London, Balvin’s first full-length album in nearly two years features a variety of producers, including Tainy, Mura Masa, Michaël Brun, Hear This Music/DJ Luian, Mambo Kingz and Súbelo NEO. The project also boasts “precisely” curated collaborations, including tracks with Stormzy and Anuel AA.
“I like to explore other cultures and genres,” he says. “But as far as my DNA and my essence, I represent Medellín, Colombia.”
London Nightlife
Coming out of the pandemic, Balvin and his team looked around at a world mired in negativity. “The vibe wasn’t right for inspiration,” Balvin says. “We decided, from within ourselves, to focus on giving happiness to our listeners and change the vibe from negative to positive.” A key element was London’s vibrant club scene, which became a living, breathing experiment to discover and test beats. Balvin and his team hit two or three clubs every weekend to take inspiration from dancefloors and observe what fans were connecting with. And, on occasion, he would even play demos. “We wanted to see fan reaction,” he says, “and it was amazing.”
Usher
Though Balvin has known the veteran hit-maker for years, their first collaboration was the result of a chance encounter during Paris Fashion Week in July. “When I saw him, I had that flashback to the songs that defined my childhood,” recalls Balvin, who, on the spot, asked Usher if he could sample his 2004 smash “Yeah!” in a new track that wasn’t even done yet — and whose title he hasn’t yet divulged. “He said of course, but then I thought, ‘It’d be great to actually do something with him.’ Recording the track and filming the video with someone so legendary fills me with nostalgia and gratitude. I think this song will have huge global impact.”
Work-Life Balance
Balvin and girlfriend Valentina Ferrer welcomed son Río in June 2021. “Having my son has changed my perspective, but my competitive spirit, that drive to improve as an artist and a person, is part of my day to day,” says Balvin, who often takes Río on his global travels. Daily workouts, he says, are also key — as is maintaining mental health, a topic he has been outspoken about. In that regard, his new album is a way to actively put positivity to work: “It’s not just talking about mental health, but actually applying the concept,” he says. “This album is a mood that will make people happy just by listening to it. I’m contributing by raising serotonin levels.”
This story will appear in the Aug. 26, 2023, issue of Billboard.