Dad loves travel. Teen loves Blackpink. Put them together and what do you get? A musical journey through South Korea's capital city.
O ur Great Korean Adventure began the way many great adventures do: with a misunderstanding. I was driving my 14-year-old daughter to school, as I do most mornings, steering our Subaru while sipping coffee from a tumbler, with her beside me, head down, transfixed by the flickering lights of her smartphone. On this day, for some reason, I decided enough was enough. My parental foot was coming down—hard.
At a stoplight, she handed me her phone. Sure enough, it was opened to an app with unfamiliar-to-me characters: the Hangul alphabet. My daughter was teaching herself Korean. Why?
Her brief, hyphenated reply surprised me, confused me—and set in motion a 7,000-mile journey from our home in Silver Spring, Maryland, that, in ways large and small, altered the trajectory of our relationship.
K-pop, of course, is Korean pop music. But that's like saying the Beatles were a band, or David Beckham a soccer player. Technically accurate, but woefully inadequate. K-pop is a cultural phenomenon and a multibillion-dollar industry. K-pop is performance art, as much visual as musical. It is a manufactured cultural product that is also fan driven. It can celebrate virtues such as hard work and moral probity yet has been rocked by scandals.
Pinpointing K-pop's origins is tricky. Many say it was born in the early 1990s when a band called Seo Taiji and Boys made a splash. Some say it was in 2006 with a solo performer named Rain, one of the first to break out internationally. The dispute comes as no surprise; everything about K-pop is conflicted, which seems fitting for a peninsula politically carved in two and officially still at war.
K-pop is, above all, the sound of a country finding its voice, like a gangly teenager blossoming into adulthood. Fans around the world may not know how to read Hangul, but they do know BTS and Blackpink and dozens of other K-pop groups dancing and singing their way into young hearts everywhere.
K-pop is an alternative universe, and, unbeknownst to me, my daughter had immersed herself in it. At school basketball games, she and her friends danced to bouncy K-pop tunes during halftime. Between classes, they traded K-pop music and gossip.
How did I miss all this? The short answer: adolescence. Sonya was pulling away from me, as teenagers do. The longer answer: I wasn't paying attention. I had responded to her withdrawal by withdrawing too, retreating to my books and single malt rather than risk rejection This was wrong, I realized, and I vowed to do something about it. I would join her in K-pop World. But how?
Jim Steinman, master of the power ballad, gave pop an operatic energy | Music | The Guardian
He also ruminated on his own position within rock music. "It's always struck me as weird that a lot of people in rock'n'roll think my stuff is ridiculous," he said. "I think that so much rock'n'roll is confessional. It's like black and white film. That's what a lot of people think rock'n'roll should be … I just see it as fantasy, operatic, hallucinations, stuff like that … I kinda think rock'n'roll is silly, in the best way. The silly things are kinda the things that are alright."
But the touring effectively scuppered its follow-up, Bad for Good: with Meat Loaf's voice temporarily ruined, Steinman elected to release it as a solo album. It was a mistake. Bad for Good had the songs, not least closer Rock and Roll Dreams Come Through, effectively Thank You for the Music for people who would balk at the idea of buying an Abba record. But Steinman's songs always required a powerhouse vocalist, who sang with total commitment ("Obviously playing a role, but it's obviously genuine," as Steinman put it) to provide an emotional grounding amid the high-camp extravagance – and one thing Steinman wasn't was a powerhouse vocalist. By the time he and Meat Loaf reconvened, the momentum was lost. Despite its brilliant title track, which starred a guest vocal from Cher and a LatinAmerican-inspired interlude into the usual bug-eyed mayhem, 1981's Dead Ringer was a flop in the US.
Steinman was next employed to produce Def Leppard, but the arrangement was a disaster and swiftly collapsed. He worked with goth titans the Sisters of Mercy, which turned out to be an improbable masterstroke: his grandiosity turned a band whose ambition had been hobbled by their reliance on a tinny drum machine into a genuinely epic-sounding band on 1987's This Corrosion and Dominion/Mother Russia: "We needed something that sounded like a disco party run by the Borgias," offered the band's Andrew Eldritch of the former, "and that's what we got."
Lady Gaga's ARTPOP Songs, Ranked
ARTPOP showcases the most extreme, weirdly gobsmacking of Gaga's creative ability; it honors pop music in a way that other albums of its generation do not. It's hot, it's fashion, it's robotically synced to Lady Gaga's artistic intentions. It's also some of the singer's most revealing work. Her passion and sorrow are exhumed in "Dope," as Stefani sings about her addictions at the time. The bitchy, campy "Donatella" is not just a reference to the Versace designer, but an ode to silliness as well as owning yourself with pride. And then there are songs like "G.U.Y" and "Applause" — audio feasts that flex the strength of Gaga's beats; their choruses build with futuristic sonics before painting a wild sky of lyrical magic, doing what she does best: tell stories.
There is rare art like this out there, art that's beautiful — scarred by mainstream criticism, maybe — that mustn't be lost. Art that was ahead of its time without trying to be. I listen to ARTPOP and I hear hype and experimentation, rules broken so that another musical pathway could be forged. I taste liberation. I get to feel the full spectrum of emotions again: sad, joyful, energized, horny. With the album back in the limelight, fans are remembering — or maybe just realizing — its influence and the original discourse it opened. So here, we rank the songs that made ARTPOP a singular piece of pop evolution that's forever tattooed on my [*in Drag Race 's Joey Jay's voice*] "gay-ass" heart (and Gaga's arm ).
The album's self-titled track is Matrix -y but simple, allowing for a bit of breathing room that the album needs. Gaga sings: "A hybrid can withstand these things / My heart can beat with bricks and strings / My ARTPOP could mean anything," referencing the true point of the album — the magic that can happen when art and pop music collide. "ARTPOP" is oddly sequenced as the No. 7 track on the album; it's more of an anticipatory experience than a mid-record hit.
Gaga told SiriusXM in 2013 that she wrote "Mary Jane Holland" with French DJ Madeon, and its story line focuses on the "alter ego of who [Gaga] became when [he] was smoking weed." A robotic, rock-skewing hit evoking the realm of EDM, it works especially well at the beginning of the song's second verse, in which LG slow-motion mouths, with rage, "Mad-magical in Amsterdam!" It's a fierce, fun hit and has a climax that's reminiscent of "Marry the Night," but here, clearly, is about marijuana.
Introducing a song with the words, "I am so fab / Check out: / I'm blonde, I'm skinny / I'm rich, and I'm a little bit of a bitch" is iconic and messy, and you can never tell me less. Blatantly referencing Donatella Versace — and every bad bitch with blond/e locks — the song was described by Jason Lipshutz in Billboard as " an anthem for the outcasts that have a right to feel gorgeous." Produced with Zedd, the rude-but-wise attitude imprinted on the listener is unmatched. That it's also a rose-colored ode to self-love, buried beneath a shallow riff on fashion, is clever. However much "Donatella" might match the rhythms of other ARTPOP greats still to come — "Aura," "Sexxx Dreams" — it doesn't do them better. Nonetheless, it's fresh, smart, and cheeky.
During an appearance on The Howard Stern Show in 2014, Gaga said that "Swine" was about "rape," "demoralization," and "rage and fury and passion." It's a fast but jerky, even nasty, song with a mesmerizing chorus: "I know, I know, I know, I know you want me / You're just a pig inside a human body / Squealer, squealer, squeal out, you're so disgusting / You're just a pig inside." (The background noise reminds of Born This Way 's "Scheiße). In its very odd Gaga way, the song praises our subconscious freak; Dommu also wrote that "Swine" finds Gaga "casting herself as a reluctant dominatrix," which I think sums up the parable perfectly.
"APHRODITE LADY SEASHELL BIKINI, GARDEN PANTY." Apart from containing one of the most iconic lines of Gaga's music career to date, the only thing better than "Venus" is the visual for "Venus" — part of an 11-minute, 46-second film dedicated to ARTPOP — which displays Gaga dressed as a wounded bird reborn in a swimming pool surrounded by the cast of the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills , then becoming a flowery queen destined to command the world's sexual fantasies. Gaga sings her next unforgettable verse, calling out the planets — "Neptune, go / Now serve Pluto! / Saturn, Jupiter, Mercury, Venus (Uh-huh) / Uranus, don't you know my ass is famous? / Mars, now serve for the gods / Earth, serve for the stars" — as she strokes the wings of something supernatural, which is really ARTPOP 's assignment: to metaphorically take you somewhere you've never gone before.
(But let's not forget Lady Gaga's 2013 MTV VMAs performance — who else could slay five lewks in one night, on top of coordinating multiple choreos and wigs?)
"MANiCURE" may be an unexpected No. 4 — it has never earned the respect that the best songs on ARTPOP have, not even now, during the album's latest reappraisal. In Vulture's ranking of every Lady Gaga song, Richard S. He calls the track a "glam-rock stomper set in a little beauty shop of horrors." I picture MANiCURE as the emo slasher of the album; Gaga sings on top of layered clapping: "Touch me in the dark / Put your hands all over my body parts Throw me on the bed / Squeeze, tease me, please me, that's what I said!" The song's title gets a bit inverted in the chorus, flipping its meaning as Gaga rephrases: "I'm gon' be MANiCURED / You wanna be man cured / Ma-ma-ma-MANiCURE." This falls in line with the message of ARTPOP: less structure, more risk, and reward will follow.
Scarlet Ayliz is hailed as the next "it" girl in R&B and Pop Music
"Her music could change radio" says an executive at IHeart Radio. She brings a nostalgia of the late Aaliyah, with a vocal range of all three Destiny's Child members. The 17-year-old music artist "Scarlet" has been working hard in the studio on her debut album with executive producer Aaron Pearce (Justin Bieber, Jill Scott, Ariana Grande, Jennifer Lopez). Along with her music, she also has a TV series in development.
HI SCARLET, WELCOME TO ABOUT INSIDER! CAN YOU TELL US A LITTLE BIT ABOUT YOURSELF, WHO IS SCARLET AYLIZ IN YOUR OWN WORDS?
Hello! I'm Scarlet Ayliz, I'm 17 years old and I am a singer/songwriter who is doing my best to bring my music and talent to the next level. I'm a hard-worker, and I strive for perfection in most everything I do (musically). I'm pretty tough on the outside and emotional within which I think helps me balance being someone who can spill their guts lyrically, yet remain strong in the public eye. So in short; Scarlet Ayliz is a well-rounded, hard-working, star in the making 🙂
WHEN DID YOU REALIZE THAT YOU WANTED TO PURSUE A CAREER IN MUSIC?
When I was able to forumately coherent thoughts. I never really felt like myself when doing anything else. I wasn't too good in school, and I couldn't see myself working a nine to five. I just felt my path was a more creative one! Music has given me the opportunity to really look deeply within myself, and find a way to make things work. If I can do that as a career- I'll take it!
HOW DO YOU THINK YOUR HOMETOWN HAS INFLUENCED THE KIND OF MUSIC THAT YOU MAKE? IF NOT, WHY IS THAT?
My hometown hasn't influenced the kind of music that I make because I'm not really attached to it. I make the kind of music that I make because I just like the way it sounds.
IF YOU COULD COLLAB WITH ONE ARTIST FOR A SONG ON YOUR FUTURE ALBUM, WHO WOULD IT BE AND WHY?
I want to collaborate with BTS! I think they're really cool and talented. I would also force them to bring back rapper JK because I need to hear this man spitting bars again. Even if I can't understand what he's saying. I dunno haha I just wanna work with them they're so cool I love them.
ANY UPCOMING PROJECTS YOU CAN TALK ABOUT?
Yes yes! We're looking forward to releasing a banger song, which I won't name because I like to keep people waiting, but it's gonna come with a music video which I plan to get my grubby little hands all over in terms of plotting and all that! It's gonna be ice cold cool!
IF YOU COULD GIVE ONE PIECE OF ADVICE TO SOMEONE WHO WANTS TO AUDITION TO BE THE NEXT AMERICAN IDOL, WHAT ADVICE WOULD YOU GIVE THEM?
Focus on yourself baby. Do not go with the intention of networking and making friends, it's all about you! But still be humble and respectful, just focus on it like you're gonna make some bank because you never know what doors can open! Show them you're a pure professional!
WHAT WOULD YOU WANT TO SAY TO YOUR FANS?
I love you… <3 also drink water and do your homework babe.
Jonathan is a writer and editor. He has a degree in Journalism and Master's in International Relations. He has a focus on British, American, Indian and African politics but has more recently found a soft spot for celebrity news. In his spare time, Jonathan loves reading/listening to crime novels/podcasts.
Appeals court sides with Dr. Luke on an issue in Kesha clash | National News |
FILE - In this Feb. 19, 2016, file photo, pop star Kesha leaves Supreme court in New York after a hearing involving her producer, Dr. Luke. An appellate court ruled for music producer Dr. Luke Thursday, April 22, 2021, on an important legal question in his defamation suit against pop star Kesha, concluding that the Grammy-nominated hitmaker isn't a public figure in the eyes of the law.
FILE - In this April 23, 2014, file photo, Lukasz Gottwald, also know as Dr. Luke, arrives at the 31st Annual ASCAP Pop Music Awards, in Los Angeles. An appellate court ruled for music producer Dr. Luke Thursday, April 22, 2021, on an important legal question in his defamation suit against pop star Kesha, concluding that the Grammy-nominated hitmaker isn't a public figure in the eyes of the law.
The decision isn't a final judgment in the long-running court clash between the multiplatinum-selling singer, who says Dr. Luke raped her, and the producer, who denies it and says his onetime protege smeared him with lies.
But Thursday's ruling upholds a lower court's 2020 finding that Kesha made a defamatory statement about him — to Lady Gaga — and that she can't defend it by saying that Dr. Luke is a public figure. That matters because public figures have to meet a higher legal standard than everyday people do in order to prove they've been defamed.
But a divided panel of state Supreme Court Appellate Division judges ruled that the lower court was right to decide that Dr. Luke wasn't a public figure.
"Although he is an acclaimed music producer and well known in the entertainment industry, he is not a household name," the opinion said.
"He never injected himself into the public debate" on the issue and "has limited his involvement to what was necessary to defend himself," the ruling said.
Dr. Luke, who has produced some of the biggest pop hits of the 2000s, denied Kesha's allegations and sued her, saying she was besmirching him with made-up claims in hopes of getting out of her record deal.
How Annie Mac's enthusiasm shaped a generation of pop fans | Radio | The Guardian
With no commute to divide work from home and no evening activity bar a couple of hours watching The Sopranos, the architecture of Mac's show held millions of us up. She has been the perfect accompaniment to these weird times: tender but never saccharine during the calming Power Down playlist, and forever invigorated by that day's Hottest Record in the World, as she provided an antidote to Covid with brilliant new music. During Friday's night's surrogate club night, Dance Anthems, she was as pumped as any human has ever been. Just a drop of energy transmuting from her to you via the radio perched behind your kitchen sink could take the tragedy and tedium out of an evening spent at home eating reheated spaghetti.
When I interviewed her for the Observer Magazine last year, Mac shrugged off any idea that she was influential, and said that any power she represented belonged to her radio show – and that it would go to whoever would present it next. I think she's wrong, at least about the former. Her compassion and zeal have shaped a generation of pop fans and stoked mutual appreciation among a vast array of musicians. Foals, Disclosure and AJ Tracey were among those paying tribute yesterday to one of the greats of British broadcasting.
Prescription Songs: Inside Dr. Luke's Publishing Company | Billboard
Katie Mitzell Fagan photographed April 7, 2021 in Nashville. Rhea Pasricha and Sara Walker photographed April 11, 2021 in Los Angeles.
Pasricha, it turns out, didn't have to fight that hard for Warren. She prepared a whole pitch about why the company should sign a writer without any major credits to her name. But Gottwald — then known mostly as the hitmaker behind No. 1 singles from Katy Perry and Britney Spears — only had a few questions. " 'Do you like her?' " Pasricha, now head of A&R, West Coast, recalls him asking. Yeah. " 'Do you think she's talented?' " Super talented. "Great." They listened to some of her songs, and he was sold.
At that point, Fagan's only industry experience was a Warner Chappell Music internship, but when she sat down with Gottwald, he mostly wanted to know about her time working as a camp counselor and water ski instructor. "I was like, 'Wait, really? That's what you want to know?' " she says. Pasricha had a similar experience. When she interviewed with Gottwald for an A&R position in 2012, he flopped down in his seat and started a conversation so informal that she wondered if she was talking to the wrong person. While she was at Atlantic, Pasricha and Gottwald had competed to sign Becky G, so he already knew she could do the job. At one point, he asked her what her favorite dinosaurs were. It was an easy question for Pasricha, who, it turns out, is a bit of a science nerd and went to space camp in middle school: brachiosaurus, the long-necked giant featured in Jurassic Park .
Over the years, she continues, the company has updated its contracts to be more in line "with what everyone else is doing." That means moving away from minimum delivery and release commitment (MDRC) provisions, which specify a quota on commercially released material, not just songs turned in. MDRC deals have fallen out of fashion over criticism that, in certain cases, the challenges of satisfying such provisions can keep songwriters unfairly locked into deals. "From a dealmaking perspective, the music publishing business has changed dramatically over the last six to eight years," says attorney Jason Boyarski of Boyarski Fritz, who has represented a number of top songwriters and previously was senior vp/GM of Warner Chappell Music. In an MDRC deal, "you could be recouped, you could be having massive success with big royalties coming in, but you don't really have a trigger to end the deal. You're kind of stuck."
Why Don't Some TV Shows Sound the Way They Used To? - The New York Times
For years, whenever Paula Cole's phone started lighting up, it usually meant one thing: "Dawson's Creek" had arrived on another streaming platform.
The hit teen drama, which aired on the WB from 1998 to 2003, is synonymous with the singer's beloved theme song, "I Don't Want to Wait." On home video and on streaming platforms like Netflix, however, the series has had almost all of its original music replaced, including, most conspicuously, its theme song. Instead of Cole's tune, episodes of "Dawson's Creek" now open with "Run Like Mad," by Jann Arden .
Audiences have not taken this change lightly. "People really care and are really upset about it," Cole said in a phone interview from her home in Massachusetts. "They tag me in every post — so much tagging on the socials, fans tagging Netflix and Sony. It's prolific." (Cole's song does play before the two-part series finale on Netflix, thanks to a deal Sony Pictures Entertainment, the production studio and distributor, made for a special 2003 DVD release .)
"Dawson's Creek" is one of many classic shows that sound different today than you probably remember. Stream it on Netflix, and most of the pop music it included when it originally aired is absent. It's a bewildering transformation — and one that is surprisingly widespread across streaming services in North America.
"At that point people didn't think further," said Robin Urdang, an Emmy-winning music supervisor who has licensed songs for such shows as "Broad City" and "The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel." "'We're airing the show for a year or three years or five years, and then it's going away.' They didn't think they needed the music longer."
The upshot is, once the licenses expired, many shows wound up on streaming services with their music replaced. This can result in some unusual and frustrating viewing experiences.
Some changes are less subtle — the music for shows like NBC's "Scrubs" and Fox's "Bones" has been dramatically altered, as fans have been quick to point out online.
When TV producers want to put a song in a scene, even a small portion, they have to clear its use with the song's composers and publishers and pay them a hefty fee. The costs are considerable — between $30,000 and $40,000 on average for indefinite rights to a popular song that has played on the radio and that most people would know, Urdang said. Network and cable TV music budgets, meanwhile, are sometimes barely half that per episode.
"I worked on a show called 'Burn Notice' years ago," Urdang said. "Our first season, the budget was ridiculously low — about $20,000 per episode. The following year it went down to $19,000."
Verzuz Is One of the Least Toxic Places Online. Here's Why. - The New York Times
Steve Harvey, the comedian and game-show host, is not prone to understatement, least of all when it comes to bespoke men's wear. This past Easter Sunday, he appeared on a studio stage wearing a custom satin suit in a violet hue previously unknown to science. Harvey was there to host an episode of the popular webcast Verzuz , a musical competition in which famous artists face off to determine who has the better catalog. The episode was a big one, a showdown of soul legends pitting the Isley Brothers against Earth, Wind & Fire, and Harvey's words were as loud as his suit: This would be, he announced, "the most epic Verzuz of all time."
Onstage, Ron and Ernie Isley sat facing their counterparts, Earth, Wind & Fire's Philip Bailey, Verdine White and Ralph Johnson. It was indeed an unusual matchup. Verzuz battles typically feature artists — rappers, R&B singers, influential producers — who have made their name in the past few decades. But Earth, Wind & Fire's debut album arrived in stores 50 years ago; the Isley Brothers' first hit, "Shout," was released in 1959, when Steve Harvey was a toddler. Now 64, he faced the camera to address younger music fans. "Ask your mama about this here music," he said. "If you don't know their music, it's 'cause you don't know nothing about music. So sit down and learn."
Pop music has always gone hand in hand with strong opinions and heated debates — including the kinds of generational cleavages that inspire finger-wagging lectures. There are times when fans stake personal identities on their favorite records or genres, or sustain fierce debates over rival artists: Beatles or Stones, Michael Jackson or Prince, Nicki or Cardi. Arguing about music may well be as primal a human endeavor as making it. Verzuz is based on this principle. The title evokes a heavyweight bout, and the episodes unfold like a boxing match: Each round presents a track from each artist, with viewers encouraged to pick the victor on a song-by-song basis.
This shagginess extends to the competition itself. There's no formal means of determining a Verzuz winner; victory is in the ear of the beholder. Viewers weigh in on social media, and journalists write recaps. But their judgments are, of course, subjective, maybe even beside the point. A musical battle, Verzuz suggests, is really a pretext for a party and an occasion for art appreciation. This has always been true: From the primeval pop hothouse of Tin Pan Alley, where songwriters vied to churn out hits, to today's pop charts, dominated by hip-hop producers chasing novel sounds, one-upsmanship is often the motor of innovation, an engine of both musical art and commerce. Great songs, beloved albums, groundbreaking styles — all have resulted from musicians' drive to outshine their colleagues.
Competition is also a driving force in music fandom — for better or, often these days, for worse. Today, pop fandom marinates in online swamps similar to those that breed conspiracy theories and political extremism, with almost comically toxic results: Some super fans organize themselves into "armies" that devote disturbing amounts of energy to the coordinated harassment of anyone seen as speaking ill of their favorite stars.
That was true again on Easter Sunday. Despite Steve Harvey's best efforts to stir up intergenerational beef, the webcast was a showcase of musical continuity across the decades. (In the unlikely event that there were viewers unfamiliar with Earth, Wind & Fire or the Isleys, they would surely have recognized many of the songs, which have been copiously sampled and interpolated by hip-hop artists.) The episode ended in the only way it could have: with members of both groups gathered at the front of the stage, dancing and singing along to Earth, Wind & Fire's celestial anthem "September," abandoning all pretense that they were adversaries in musical battle. "Celebrate! Love!" shouted Philip Bailey. "Enjoy! Appreciate!"
Source photographs by Raymond Boyd/Getty Images; Ebet Roberts/Redferns/Getty Images; Michael Putland/Getty Images.
Jody Rosen is a contributing writer for the magazine and the author of "Two Wheels Good: The Bicycle on Planet Earth and Elsewhere," to be published next year. He last wrote about the musical prodigy Jacob Collier .
UA alum fuses mariachi, pop and opera to connect the dots of his upbringing | Music | tucson.com
You would think that a classically trained vocalist with a freshly minted master's degree in vocal performance from the Chicago College of Performing Arts at Roosevelt University would mine the depths of the operatic tenor repertoire for his maiden recording.
But if you are Nogales, Arizona-born/Nogales, Sonora-raised tenor Edgar Ricaud and you grew up listening to 1990s Mexican pop music, boleros and mariachi, you would probably do what he did: Tell your story through the music that informed you.
"El Recuerdo," which Ricaud released on his own last month, is a musical memoir of a boy who found his voice as a teenager and has been perfecting it ever since. The 34-year-old shows his romantic side with the opening track, a cover of Puerto Rican singer-songwriter Bobby Capó's popular pop tune "Piel Canela." It makes him think of his wife, Angela Barraza, who he met at a Mexican Independence Day celebration while they were attending the University of Arizona.
Then he adds his name to the long list of great singers from Perry Como and Nat King Cole to record the Osvaldo Farrés's 1946 pop song "Acércate Más," which Cole recorded in both Spanish and English in 1958. Ricaud also dives headlong into the mariachi of his parents' generation with a cover of José Alfredo Jimenez's "Si Nos Dejan."
Throughout the album, Ricaud seems to be thumbing through his parents' record collection picking out the songs that had meaning for them and him.
A classically trained vocalist, Edgar Ricaud is releasing his debut album, a collection of Mexican pop songs and mariachi music that defined his youth in Sonora, Mexico.
Ricaud began the record last August after being forced to return to Tucson from Chicago and complete his master's degree online because of the COVID-19 pandemic. In keeping with social distancing protocols, Ricaud recorded the vocals at Luna Recording in Tucson with owner George Nardo, using music tracks created by Mexico City producer Guillermo Corchado.
He then sent Corchado the completed tracks so that Corchado could master and mix the album, which was released on March 16 on all major streaming platforms.
"For this being my first album, I'm really happy and excited how people have received this album," said Ricaud, adding that it will be released on CD and vinyl by late May.
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