Off The Stage – Pt. 6 – (English)

Translated from Spanish. (Para leer en Español, aquí)

Albina Cabrera. Little or nothing remains to be said about the importance of the work Albina has been doing, not only for over a decade in Seattle, USA, but since her beginnings in her native Argentina. Her tireless effort to bring Latin American music to the forefront and to major platforms has propelled the careers of countless Latin artists.

With a deeply rooted vocation and a creative and humble spirit, Albina tells us about her origins, her motivations, and her goals. I leave you with this sixth and final entry of Off The Stage. My utmost respect and admiration to this great woman who I hope inspires you as much as she inspires me.

SoG: Honestly, your immediate response really surprised me. I mean, when I started this whole series, in one of these interviews with a fellow journalist, also Argentinian, Karen Fernández from Music Between Us (MBU) [Read it here], she’s very kind and amazing. At some point in the conversation, I asked her about her reflections after dedicating herself to music journalism. And, more or less, she told me something like: “You have to be a little impertinent/brazen and not be afraid to go and ask people“. And with that kind of advice, you immediately came to mind, because I’ve followed your work and admired it for years now; I find it incredibly admirable and worthy of the utmost respect…

[A kitten crosses the camera screen and of course caught my attention]

Oh, what a beautiful kitten! What’s your cat’s name?

Albina (A): My cat’s name is Yoni B, like the song by El Mató a un Policía Motorizado (El Mató).

SoG: Oh, great name. What a beautiful kitten.

A: Beautiful. I worked with El Mató for several years.

SoG: Yes! Yes, I knew it. How incredible, amazing band. I love them.

A: …But kind of like you were saying, I think being brazen is basically the answer to everything. Just yesterday, a clip from a newspaper here in Washington called Latino Herald was published (see it here). They asked me, “So, how did you manage it?” And it was literally by sending unanswered emails for months until someone finally replied. So, it’s like “to dive into the pool” [taking the plunge], so to speak.

SoG: Yes, yes. It’s about being persistent. And that’s why, with this advice [from Karen], I said, “Oh, I’m going to write to Albina“. I mean, because you were on my mind already, and I was thinking, “If this series grows, maybe at some point it will have some kind of journalistic standing, and maybe I can start writing to people of that caliber“, right?

But at the end {of the interview} I said: “No, fuck it, I’m going to ask Albina“.

A: Oh my God. Of course!

SoG: And at that moment when you answered me in like two minutes it was like: “Hell yeah, yes!”.

A: A sign, Do you see?

SoG: Yes, exactly. It was really cool. So, I’m very grateful because one doesn’t always get that kind of openness.

And then I think that, by accompanying those independent movements, people start saying yes, you know? I think that if there’s a feeling of an honest interview and conversation, I think they’ll always say yes, no matter the caliber of the person, really.

SoG: I’m surprised you also get that imposter syndrome. Well, I think we all get it. But, like, seeing your work and talking to a lot of comrades/friends and stuff, when I told them we were going to have this conversation, the response was always like: “No way! Seriously?”

And, I don’t know, I’m surprised by your humility and openness to this. Thank you very much.

A: No, please. Thank you, really.

[After let my fandom spill over a bit, I had to contain my uncontrolled admiration]

SoG: Well then. Let’s start with a little game that I usually use to begin this series of interviews, which also helps to break the ice.

The context is: aliens exist and have come to Earth to restructure everything in the world. They have the technology and the power to do so.

They’ve been studying humanity and are convinced that creativity, the arts, music, and so on are what distinguish us from any other species. So, they want to focus on that. And somehow, while flying over Seattle, they thought KEXP Studios was the perfect place to land. They land, enter the Live Room, and see you going up and down, probably preparing a session with the hottest Latin American band of the moment. And they think you’re a worthy representative of the arts and music. You’re the one who’s going to decide.

And as a representative, it’s up to you to decide how you would restructure the music industry, if you would change anything, what would you change? You have the superpower of aliens, so any idea is valid.

A: Oh, I feel like an alien. Uh, but…

SoG: We all are.

A: We all are. Look, I think what I would change might be very simple and romantic, but it seems to me that the problem with the music industry and any other area that involves developing something, a service, a product, a branch of art, is when our curiosity gets saturated, it seems to me.

So, I think that when you enter the music industry, you start to become that “churro-cutting machine”, as we say, and I think the restructuring comes from that curiosity. I believe it’s the only thing I try to keep absolutely alive so that the same thing doesn’t happen to me.

I think the industry sometimes ends up being driven by performance, by how well an artist is doing, and it also confuses mass appeal with popular appeal. I’m very much in favor of popular appeal, like that feeling that people generate with, for example, someone I think is both massive and popular, Bad Bunny.

Bad Bunny is popular, and why? Because he has not only managed to make his music accessible to every social class, but he also allows the people, those who suffer or lack things because of that same capitalist system, to feel represented and happy. When someone brings happiness to people, they create that kind of bridge to the masses, and I think the music industry sometimes misunderstands that. So, it tries to standardize sounds so much that today we say “Latin music”, and it’s a very difficult term to explain, very difficult to develop, very difficult to engage with, because many of us are left out.

So, I would tell the aliens, first, to grant us the power to be the most curious people in the world forever, no matter how many years pass. That’s one thing. Secondly, I’d ask them to grant us the power of humility so that those colleagues who have been leading the music industry for forty years, and I have nothing against them, but I think it’s important to know when to pass the microphone. At thirty-eight, I feel like there are things I’m missing, so I need to surround myself with young people, I need to be out in the field, and I need to experience music. And all of that is connected to curiosity and humility. It’s difficult because the capitalist system pushes you to want more and more and more. And if I’m here and I can have more, then, “Why would I leave if this is my place?“.

Then, we move on to the layers of, in my case, as a woman, or the dissidences, or minorities, who have historically been oppressed, such as in the musical roots of almost all styles, which are Black roots, Afro roots that have historically been used/abused by the music industry. Absolutely used for the benefit of others, from the big {labels} making white artists record demos by Black songwriters, until it was someone like Bad Bunny, and not someone like Tego Calderón, who have achieved that level of popularity.

I think there’s still a colorist issue, a deep-seated racism issue, a deep-seated xenophobia issue in our music industry, and a deep-seated misogyny… And if the structures are faltering, it’s because we’re fighting and pushing, but man, these have been deeply unequal structures for decades! So, I think I would ask the aliens perhaps for a cloak of humility and a deep dose of curiosity.

“… to grant us the power to be the most curious people in the world forever …”

SoG: [There is a lot to change…].

A: There are still many things to change, my friend, but it seems to me that things are changing. What I would also say about the way the music industry is changing is that I always say that when the periphery stirs, the center pays attention. So, if suddenly the music scenes and artists decide to stop looking north and start looking to the sides and around, everything is going to change. So, strengthen the scenes in your own territory. Okay, but there’s no infrastructure. Create it.

SoG: Of course! “Create a local scene”.

A: Just create it. It seems to me that, nowadays, independent and alternative layers, which is “my shit”, which is what interests me, what I want to see, what I want to develop, is one hundred percent about looking around and going knocking doors to build your team. “Are you a photographer? A painter? A visual designer? Do you like my music? … Let’s create this together, come to my concerts often…”. What are your mirror bands? But not the mirror bands of the European, London, etc. scene. What are your scenes now that you’re playing every weekend? … So, it absolutely has to be about looking around and going into those trenches that I come from.

SoG: [Of course, focus on lateralities].

A: I wouldn’t be here if the artists hadn’t trusted me when I spoke to twelve people on a university radio station, or on a community radio station in the most remote corner of our neighborhoods. Back then, no radio station, FM or AM, wanted me, so I’d organize open radio broadcasts with the political organizations I belonged to, and we’d go out into the streets with loudspeakers to read the news and interview local artists. If I hadn’t had that, and if the artists hadn’t trusted me, I wouldn’t be here. And vice versa, you know?

And so, we can see that my growth in radio coincided with the growth of my favorite band, El Mató, for example. El Mató comes from that same scene, from university radio stations, from the DIY communities in the neighborhoods. So, it seems to me that’s the path. And now what’s changed in this new generation is that you can actually be your own media outlet, you can even do it all by yourself.

But hey, it’s kind of like telling aliens that. I think if we change some values, the rest will fall into place. Because the music industry really does operate from the same place as the capitalist system itself.

SoG: That’s exactly what I wanted to conclude from this. I think what we need to change is the messed-up system that prioritizes “massive production” over curiosity and creativity. It should be the other way around.

And I also really liked the points you mentioned, because I started this series with that very spirit of creating/strengthening the scene.

Because the Vienna scene exists, but I had this feeling that something’s missing, and that we need to see how things are working out there. We need to create something, and if no one’s creating it, I think I’ll do it. I’m going to put these ideas and visions forward to find similarities, differences, and so on, so that it helps us here to generate discussion, to spark curiosity…

And in Mexico, to give you some context, I’m not a journalist, a communications specialist, or anything like that; I’m a mathematician. I like what I do, yes, because math is my forte, but my heart is fully in music. And in Mexico, I organized gigs/small shows for friends in our region (Guanajuato/Bajío, Mexico), driven by this same desire: “Hey, if they’re not going to be playing in Mexico City, why don’t we all put on a show here?“. I had this need to create a scene, to help my creative friends. I might have been working wherever as a mathematician, but I was actively creating a scene with my comrades.

So, I came here and besides the adjustment process, I started getting to know this scene, because obviously I have to keep going to concerts to stay alive and happy. And in this search, one thing led to another, and now I’m doing interviews out of pure curiosity, like, “What can I say to generate some momentum among my colleagues here?“.

A: Incredible, that’s how things are done, that’s how scenes are put together. So congratulations on that, really. And do you publish in Spanish?

SoG: Thank you.

I publish in English because, although the main language here is German, my German is far from being able to write something like this. And to make it more universal, we publish everything in English. But hey, I could do it in Spanish too.

[And it was at this moment that I decided that Off The Stage will be bilingual. Democratizing my work.]

A: Okay. Awesome, dude.

“… I have two pillars in my life: one is music and the other is politics.”

SoG: I really identified with what you were saying. And in fact, it’s something I’d already noticed in your work; what I really liked was that you used your platform to talk about laterality, diversity, social policies, and the stories behind Latin American albums. I find that very admirable.

I mean, it’s really cool because it’s using a tool you already have because of your job and your career and using it precisely to “beat the system from within”, so to speak. Taking advantage of the fact that you’re already there, and thinking, “Okay, let’s use this to make it more horizontal instead of vertical or pyramidal, and give these people a platform“.

And I wonder, what inspires you or motivates you to keep doing this without wanting to throw in the towel? Because I imagine it’s just too much with everything that’s going on …

A: Yes, I want to throw in the towel all the time. To be honest, look, I have two pillars in my life: one is music and the other is politics. I’ve been involved in politics since I was twenty. I was in political organizations in my country for a very long time, and I know how important the stories are and what’s woven in the territories. So, being in another place and understanding what it means to be Latino in the United States, starting to get involved and… leaving at thirty (I’m thirty-eight now), without English, my abilities are much different and my experiences are much different than the kids who grew up in a bilingual school, than the Mexican kids who grow up with a natural bicultural, border-crossing background, or even the Caribbean kids who are born naturally bilingual because they live in Puerto Rico, because they live in the Dominican Republic, you know?

It was very different from the diasporas of the first, second, and third generations of Latinos in the United States. I began to realize that I connected more with their parents or grandparents who had come here, because we shared the experience of coming to the United States as adults and learning a language… it’s truly very difficult, and the only way, the only tools I found to navigate my own challenges, were politics and music.

So, it was also a way of letting them know that they were responding to a vibrant, solid, sustained, and ever-growing audience that was consuming our content, and that what we needed to offer them was the construction of an honest relationship. It’s about understanding that migration continues to happen. And it’s about understanding that just because you’re a composer born in Latin America doesn’t mean you need to be alone on a separate stage with all the other Latinos, because maybe you make great punk rock, and you can perfectly fit in with the US punk scene.

…But yes, I want to throw in the towel all the time. All the time. And the only ones who won’t let me throw in the towel are my people, and generally my listeners and the music community. I mean, a great friend of mine tells me, “I know you’re exhausted, but please, we need you. You have no idea what you generate“. And I don’t realize it. So, of course, that’s why I travel, to stay up-to-date with music, but also to understand the impact of my work.

But politics and speaking out from the inside, is fundamental for me. I learn about the world of politics, economics, how people are doing, and society through music. So, I communicate from that perspective as well; I can’t really do it any other way. And even more so now, where it’s “cool” to be right-wing, where it’s “cool” not to talk about politics, where it’s “cool” to be an amoeba, because amoebas don’t bother anyone. So, if you don’t bother anyone, you’ll get recognition.

SoG: Yes, of course. {Not causing discomfort is encouraged and recognized}

A: And then that’s a serious mistake, because those accolades have an expiration date. Besides, life is short and only one, and I want to die leaving a legacy, having created a story. I want people to talk about me as someone who built things; I don’t want to be just another number in this system. I’d rather be remembered as that pain in the ass, that total nuisance. I’d rather be remembered that way than not be remembered at all.

[Noches de Rock en Español – @nochesderockseattle – 29/09/2026 post]

SoG: But all those who will remember you as a pain in the ass are the ones who really need all the pain in the ass in the world. And everyone else… actually, when I was preparing for this interview, I had something I wanted to tell you, and it was simply: Do you realize the influence you have? At a Latin American level, and the positions that women can hold, or the power they can have.

In other words, I know that the responsibility lies with everyone, to make this horizontal and ensure genuine diversity and equality. And I have the feeling that the entire responsibility is often placed on the shoulders of the representatives who are already there. But this has to be horizontal.

You’ve already told me a bit about your work in representation and horizontal organization within the media, but what has it been like? Have you felt supported in this regard? Or are you really handling it all on your own? Have you found a community that has supported you in this battle of responsibility?

A: Of course. It’s been a process. And my team is Latin American and Ibero-American. I can finally say I have a network. But I don’t know, I’ve always been very punk.

And I had to find that local community, I built it. It’s like connecting with all the Latinos here, or for example, two years ago I started a night called Noches de Rock en Español (Spanish Rock Nights). When I was growing up, when I was fifteen, I wouldn’t listen to Soda {Stereo} for anything, I’d never listen to Caifanes in my life. It all seemed like music for old farts. It seemed like a horrible paradigm, which didn’t coincide at all with what I thought about music, about what rock was at that time. Of course, imagine, I was a fan of El Mató a un Policía Motorizado, it was like the other scene that came in the new millennium. So, what happened? When I left Argentina, your whole soundtrack changed, from what people listen to in their cars, it must have happened to you too. Like how it changes what’s playing in a store when you go to buy vegetables… when all that changed and suddenly, I’d hear someone playing Gustavo Cerati … that’s when you understood the relevance of the music from our region. And you’d say, “Wow, of course, this is what Spanish rock was all about“. Oh, and sure, I think they’re a bunch of old fogies at some point, many of them are canceled, but that’s how I started to miss them so much. And I’d say, “Well, no, but if they know Soda Stereo, how can they not know Virus?“.

And as I started noticing these things, I began a Latin American rock night. It started with six or ten people, and now we’re moving to a two-hundred-capacity venue because it’s the only place in all of Seattle where you can hear old and new Latin American rock. And it all came about through us messaging each other on Instagram. And an artistic collective started, I began putting these little things together, and now I want to start organizing concerts. But to answer your question, no, I don’t realize it. I only realize of that impact when I leave Seattle.

That’s why I take an international trip at least once a month. For me, it’s like the energy boost I need. Not because I crave recognition, but because sometimes I feel like I’m working blindly. Obviously, I’m working in a different environment, and I don’t see if this mix I’ve created over these days, these hours, has resonated with anyone, if someone has discovered a song, or anything like that. And it’s only when I receive messages from listeners, when they write me incredible stories, that I realize it.

The other day, I don’t usually play old music; I focus on modern Latin American music. But I put on Víctor Jara because I had interviewed Tom Morello, and he had told me about him, saying he’s a huge fan. I played it on the radio and received an email from a Chilean woman, from a family of exiles who had gone to the United States with records from Mercedes Sosa and Víctor Jara hidden away. She had grown up with them and had never heard Víctor Jara on the radio in her life.

“For me it’s not a job, for me it’s what I live, it’s what I breathe.“

SoG: Wow! The direct impact of a song on the radio.

A: Yes! When people write me things like that, or when they say, “Albina, I loved this new band Depresión Sonora. I went on a date with a girl, I played her Depresión, and now we’re fans and we’re dating“. And you say, “Of course, this is beautiful“.

And in the same way, well, Mexico is like my home… if my people in Mexico tell me things are going well, then things are going well. I mean, for me, that’s my barometer. Not even Argentina, for me, Mexico is my absolute barometer. Obviously, over time I also started traveling more, but the support that Mexico gave me, even though I’m not Mexican, you know? Because you also feel that, not pressure, but you think: “Well, you share a border“. There’s a very strong political and historical relationship with the United States. Really messed up. Good and bad, too. I mean, an extremely complex history. And having learned that, that my best friends are from Mexico, and having understood what they go through, and so much more in these shitty times, with the total persecution of the community, especially the Mexican and Central American ones, for me, it’s been like a before and after in my life, in terms of Latin American feeling. And for me, that’s what saves me, let’s say, Latin America. And that gives me wings to keep flying, and it’s the thermometer of something that is my life, it’s my passion, dude.

For me it’s not a job, for me it’s what I live, it’s what I breathe.

… But yes, my community is international, and local too, obviously. My community here that has supported me over the years and all that. Everything I’ve been telling you is an eight-year process.

SoG: Yes, I understand. It’s a very long process. {One that I’ve been going through too}

A: Now, I’m not going to tell you that everything is bad. Washington and Seattle are a progressive stronghold in the middle of a Republican red tide. So, I’m very grateful to be here, and I’m also very grateful because little by little they’re opening doors for me and trusting in what I do. But they also started to trust what I do because they began to see that my people support me.

SoG: Yes, they support you. {They have your back}

A: So, if my people support me, I know this is alive. I know that what I do, let’s say, as a personal reward, is more or less okay (más o menos bien). That it’s possible, in general terms of our scene, to be recognized and respected in the same way that a US or European scene is respected, that’s my life’s goal. And that more people are coming after me, that’s the beautiful thing.

That’s the beauty of it. So yes, the answer: yes, I’ve been finding it and building it.

“… if my people support me, I know this is alive. I know that what I do … is more or less okay.”

SoG: Fascinating, fascinating. I mean, I got goosebumps about three times throughout your story.

A: Me too.

SoG: Because I see myself reflected in that too. I mean, it’s this immigrant experience, arriving in a country where you don’t speak the language, and being treated like an idiot precisely because of that, when you’re like: “Damn, do you know how intelligent I am in my own language? Don’t belittle me just for that“.

The thing about your personal soundtrack changing when you migrate is so true. A few days ago I was with a friend, who’s helping me design the graphic identity for the series and everything. He’s Guatemalan and an industrial designer, Martin Vaquez {shoutout}. He has his studio here {in Vienna}, MarsoStudio, where they do tufting and stuff. This guy’s awesome. Anyway, we were talking about how when we lived in our own countries, in our own cities, we’d sometimes listen to these bands of old farts, like you said. It was kind of repellent, but in Mexico, for example, for me it was Norteño music, regional Mexican music. Very typical, but sometimes it was really loud, and when I lived there, I was like, “I’m not really into this. I mean, I’m not judging it, but it’s not my thing“.

A: Yeah, it wasn’t your thing, “it wasn’t cool”, yeah, totally.

SoG: Yeah, exactly. And as a brat kid myself, as a teenager. “I only listen to punk, only rock“.

A: Yes, absolutely. Exactly.

SoG: And you migrate, and at the moment when your whole soundtrack changes, I don’t know, Corridos Tumbados become fashionable, you suddenly hear a corrido tumbado in the street and it’s like: “Oh! Holy shit! What is this feeling?“. And it touches you deeply.

A: “It’s me,” it’s saying “it’s me”. Of course.

SoG: Yes, it really touches your heartstrings. And now I’ve listened to way more Regional Mexicano music than in my entire life living in Mexico. And it’s not like someone puts that banner on you, but as a Latino immigrant you take it and say, “I’m going to show this to the people here, because this deserves more recognition“.

So, I see myself reflected in everything you do, and again (and I’m going to remind you of this so you don’t get imposter syndrome again), what you’re doing is incredibly admirable because you’re actually breaking it and capitalizing it. I mean, it’s also really valuable when friends share records and things; that’s a very real way to share culture. But your work is out there on a massive scale, and we see it everywhere.

As Mexicans, we saw your work as soon as you got there, and it was like, “She’s one of us, sure, she’s Argentinian, yes, but one of us, it doesn’t matter”. You’re there, and it can be done, and I tell my friends, “Gurls, look, see, she’s there, it can be done“. I mean, it’s something really awesome. Nobody put that banner on you, you embraced it, and you’re taking it to a seriously incredible level.

And I could say that every migrant carries that banner. For whatever it is, if we love music, it’s for music. If we love design, well, it’s for design… I’ve noticed it a lot, and it’s very comforting to see that. That you also have that drive…

A: How lovely. Oh yes, my friend.

[Both with teary eyes]

SoG: It’s incredible, it’s really awesome, and very exhausting, but it’s incredible.

A: It’s exhausting, man, but incredibly rewarding when you see it. It moves me to tears because it’s so beautiful, damn. Long live the music! I mean.

SoG: Long live the music!

A: Yes, totally. I think it’s something very, I don’t know. The truth is, I think this really resonates with people, the listeners, this thing you’re telling me about feeling addressed and all that. When you understand how difficult it is when you become an immigrant or when you’re an independent artist who isn’t a nepo-baby. When you’re someone who’s affected by life’s circumstances… You’re affected by rent increases, or by having grown up in situations of want and humility, or in very humble circumstances, or very severe and difficult situations. I know I connect with those people much more than with the “fresas” (posh kids), in a musical sense. I love them, I have millions of “fresa” friends who admire my work and I admire theirs, but there’s a bonding trauma, you know…

SoG: Yes, yes. {And class consciousness, too}

” Long live the music! “

A: With all those generations of Latin American friends and comrades who know how difficult life is. So, it’s gratifying to understand it from that perspective. That’s why whenever a girl comes up to me and says, “No, you don’t know what it’s like for me“, and I see her, I give her my full attention right now.

You have no idea how upset it makes me, man, that I can’t read all the messages and emails I get. I just can’t. I’ve tried a ton of systems, I’ve tried creating a form so people can upload them directly, so I don’t have to go email by email. I’ve tried creating email {accounts}, I’ve tried setting aside a day to read them… It’s impossible. Right now, I have sixty-two thousand unread emails in my inbox. Sixty-two thousand! Do you understand?

SoG: Wow ! A ton!

A: Someday I’ll read them, I don’t know, and I’m experimenting to try and start extracting the ones that are musical suggestions or emails from people writing to me, and I listen. I have my listening time, obviously, but you also have to balance your own listening curiosity. I have to go to concerts, I have to listen to music and be smoking a joint and have an album blow my mind. I want that to keep happening to me. Because when that stops happening to me, I turn into a “churro-cutting machine”, like I was saying. But it puts a lot of pressure and anxiety on me that I can’t be listening to everything that’s recommended to me or reading all these messages.

That’s why I also really enjoy going in person, because {I go} and then I end up talking for two hours with everyone there. And they give me their sticker, their keychain, a little something, the postcard they made by hand… I’m fascinated by those things, and I keep them all organized by country and by the time they gave them to me. And now I’m thinking of making an art wall there because I want to start sharing my things from here. I don’t know exactly yet, but I want to fill this whole wall with all those memories.

SoG: That’s awesome. Yeah, with all those gifts.

A: Yes! And honestly, KEXP has taken great care of me; it changed my life. I always tell Chris Kellogg, who’s the ultimate boss, my big boss, “Man, you literally changed my life“, and my whole family’s too.

But anyway, we could talk for hours about all this, my friend.

SoG: Yes, from the trauma bonding of migrating…

A: From the trauma bonding of migrating! dude, yes.

SoG: Yes, yes. And it’s very different to immigrate with the privilege of having everything, than to immigrate and struggle on your own. It’s really tough. I mean, and we could go on like this for hours, as you say.

But, wow. I mean, I did have expectations for this conversation… I already knew what you were like, and I already knew all this you were telling me, your stance and everything else, which I again find super admirable.

I’m incredibly grateful for this conversation because you’ve rekindled something that motivates me to do this. I mean, even though I do this for the love of art, my love for art is much greater than anything else, and you’ve inspired me to keep going. I had doubts about whether this would just be a one-off series, and that’s it. No, you’ve inspired me to say, “I have to do this more often. And bring in more Latin American representatives“.

A: Yes, and I understand. No, I’m grateful to you. I encourage you to keep doing it. We really need it. I mean, literally, later I might say to you, let’s stay in touch, because, for example, I’m already working with bands, and you’re there. Tell me where we have to play, which promoters we need to talk to, etc. I mean, these conversations are what build those bridges, you know.

SoG: Exactly. {Create global scene}

A: So I’m grateful to you for believing I had something to share, for having such a beautiful conversation with me that it made me cry and get emotional about the beautiful place, for allowing me to see that process, that step, that transition, to understand that nothing is in vain. So I encourage you to do the same, to have this direct line for when you have doubts, send me a message, or when you need something, send me a message, and I’ll reply, with a delay, but I’ll reply, my friend.

SoG: Yes, you’re amazing. Thank you so much. And if there’s anything I can help you with, don’t hesitate to write to me.

A: Absolutely.

SoG: Can I ask you one last little question to wrap things up {and process the crying.}

A: Yes, of course.

SoG: I actually got this question from one of my favorite music journalists, Susana Medina (Mezclas Abruptas), from Mexico. And it’s another mind game.

One day you wake up in the middle of the street, look around, and find yourself in front of your childhood home. You decide to knock on the door, and when it opens, you see yourself as a young Albina. You have the opportunity to tell her one thing to ensure that this little Albina grows into the successful and admirable woman you are today. What album or band would you tell her to listen to? A must-listen to unfold into the Albina you are today.

A: Phew! First I’d tell her, “You’re going to survive“, and second I’d tell her to listen… Wow! What album? Hmm. I don’t know, but I’ll tell you the truth, an album that accompanied me and is part of my life and my youth is La dinastía Scorpio by El Mató, obviously.

SoG: Of course.

A: But if there’s one song, one performance I always return to, it’s Canción de las simples cosas by Mercedes Sosa, one hundred percent !

SoG: Wow ! Yes, how lovely.

A: Yes, I think Mercedes Sosa’s “Canción de las simples cosas” is very beautiful because it’s when she says one always returns to…

SoG: the old places where one loved life.

A: Where one loved life. And I find it very interesting, especially her story, being the only woman founder of the new Latin American song movement in Mendoza, in fact, in Maipú, where I was born. And being one of the great performers and one of those people whose family I managed to interview, who lived through exile, who lived being the only woman in the room for many years, and who represents the voice of our Latin American folklore. While I went into rock, I found that lullaby in folklore, you know? That lullaby, man, is like what happened to you with regional music, and say: “But I come from here, man. And it’s the music my people make; how could I not choose it or respect it?” And then it became a great pillar of my life.

And Mercedes, every podcast series I do, every interview, whatever, I don’t know, I could be interviewing the most famous person in the world, and Mercedes Sosa appears. She’s like an angel who appears in my life, at different moments in my life. In my most punk, most rock ‘n’ roll moments …

SoG: And Mercedes appears.

A: Yeah, dude! And I respect her, and she’s managed to get into my heart and mind in so many ways. And she also connects me to the world. It’s like saying the word Maradona anywhere in the world, well, saying the name Mercedes Sosa… And they already know where I come from. So that’s what I would do.

SoG: Incredible. What a beautiful ending.

A: Yes.

SoG: I respect you, and I admire you a lot and…

A: Me too.

SoG: All the best to you.

A: Thank you so much, my friend. Best of luck. Thanks for your flexibility. And please excuse me, I was exhausted.

SoG: You’re welcome, I’m here. I hope we can meet someday in Mexico, or here when you come too, if you’d like.

A: That would be spectacular.

SoG: Thank you for everything.

A: See you.

[And so, with teary eyes and overflowing emotions, one of my favorite moments in life came to an end. Editing this interview brought back that flutter of emotions, and, above all, the motivation to continue with this.

This concludes the first series of Off The Stage. I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading and for your support. Read you soon. Off The Stage Season 2 is in the making.]