The Mess is a new column from journalist Richard Villegas, who has been reporting on new, exciting sounds flourishing in the Latin American underground for nearly a decade. As the host of the Songmess Podcast, his travels have intersected with fresh sounds, scene legends, ancestral traditions, and the socio-political contexts that influence your favorite artists. The Mess is about new trends and problematic faves whilst asking hard questions and shaking the table.
We’re going there. We’re talking about it. Even if things get a little messy.
On her latest EP, X-sex, Six Sex delivered a collection of deep house thumpers designed to soundtrack ketamine-fueled after parties and X-rated dark room antics. The record features an uproarious workout instructional titled “How to make your ass bigger” and a raunchy guest spot from Dillom on “Tócame,” casting the rap agitator as a hunky slab of video beef and even dressing him in Six Sex-branded boxers. Argentina’s queen of perreo-rave celebrated the cheeky drop with a sold-out show at Buenos Aires’ C Art Media complex, as fans moshed along to favorites like “4 noviosS” and screamed for provocative choreography that is better seen than described. The show’s crescendo came when she performed the national anthem while dressed in a white corset and jockstrap, flanked by fellow scene vixens Fiah, Chita, Juana Rozas, and Vera Frod. Yes, outraged headlines were achieved, but the viral moment also highlighted the thriving landscape of Argentine pop, where a new generation of women is disrupting the genre’s squeaky-clean reputation and engaging with poignant socio-political conversations.
Before the genre police shows up, let me be clear: this column will use the term “pop” liberally. I don’t care if you’re a stickler for SoundCloud hashtags like techno and neoperreo — in 2025, Six Sex’s horny poppers music is as pop as Charli xcx, and just because Beyoncé swerved into country on her last record, it doesn’t mean she abdicated her throne atop the food chain. The same goes for musically omnivorous superstars Rosalía, Karol G, Kenia Os, and Anitta, wildly different performers who, due to the homogenizing effects of globalization, ultimately fall under the purview of pop. My metrics follow the hyper-stylized personas, anthemic records, and outlandish stage shows that often coalesce into mass appeal. But in Argentina, a unique combo of subversiveness and collaboration is putting pop head and shoulders above the rest.
“Argentina’s scene is very tight, and meeting other artists on the same path makes this journey way less lonely,” Rozas tells Remezcla. The gothic, snarling beauty is deep into promotion for her forthcoming LP, Tanya, with debauched industrial singles “Bad Choice” and “Un Ángel” contrasting against softer acoustic moments like her dreamy crossover with Santiago Motorizado on “Ridículo.” “I don’t consider myself a pop artist in the classic sense,” she adds, “but there’s a movement of soloists taking the sound to raw places and unafraid to make people uncomfortable. I got tired of innocent lyrics and having to be cool and likable, so now I go off about beefs, sexuality, and everything else I used to keep to myself.”
“Art is a way of denouncing aspects of the world that hurt us or that we consider unjust,” reflects Faraonika, whose 2023 LP Farsanta explored body dysmorphia to such campy extremes it could be adapted into a musical production of The Substance. “I was haunted by physical and mental perfection, and the music industry exacerbates those feelings, so poking fun helps me enjoy working in a field that keeps our self-esteem on the floor. I’m only human, so I [fall prey] to those demands, but at least with my art, I can put into words what I’ve lived through.”
There’s an outdated bias against pop that dismisses much of this music as trite and limited to matters of the heart. However, recent records from artsy chanteuses Feli Colina and Lisa Scha delved into conceptual studies of territory and gender, cobbling jagged beats unconcerned with radio palatability. Last year, Miranda! co-founder Juliana Gattas released her solo debut, Maquillada en la Cama, exploring decadent glamour and, in the process, holding a mirror to the entertainment industry’s flagrant disposal of aging women. Meanwhile, Six Sex’s hentai moans expose the infantilizing lust of the male gaze, while pop behemoths Lali and María Becerra literally stood up to toxic masculinity in public spats with Argentina’s President, Javier Milei.
Between the music industry machine and legions of rabid online stans, pop soloists are exalted as omnipotent Supremes while also pitted against each other for little more than petty chisme. This cycle is hardly new to showbiz, but Argentina’s pop artists, whether mainstream or indie, prove there is more value in allyship. Cazzu famously interceded for RKT star La Joaqui during a drawn-out domestic abuse ordeal, while dance music producers Tayhana and MissLupe promote studio safety for collaborators eager to create without being belittled by gendered power dynamics. The queer underground is also nurturing boundary-pushing acts like Pielcitta, La Chera, and La Indigo, injecting neoperreo and synthpop with streetwise grit and a healthy dose of grotesque irreverence.
“There’s an irony to Argentine pop that people here, in Spain, don’t fully grasp,” muses the Barcelona-based chameleon, SIMONA. Ahead of her new album, ASTUTA, out on April 4, promo singles “COCON” and “PERRA AVENTURERA” juxtaposed reggaeton and noisy techno with tales of bodily agency and migration, putting her witty stamp on the twerkable instrumentals. “Argentina has flirted with electropop for a very long time,” she says. “Just look at Charly García’s Clicks Modernos, which is very pop, electronic classics from [Daniel] Melero and [Gustavo] Cerati, and at a more underground level, DJs Pareja. Also, I’m from Mendoza, so the influence of Chilean artists like Alex Anwandter, Javiera Mena, and Alejandro Paz is undeniable.”
Challenging narratives, inter-scene solidarity, and sounds that set trends rather than chase them have put Argentina at the forefront of a new Latin American pop age. I’ve previously ranted about the country’s singular idiosyncrasies, and again, even within an industry eager to clone and replicate winning formulas, the humor and swagger of these glittering queens remain largely unmatched. Maybe it’s Lali taking jabs at stalkerish libertarians on “Fanático,” Emilia and Tini executing perfect choreo synchronicity for a stadium of roaring fans, or Six Sex simulating all sorts of kinky sex on the stage — pop fans just want to be thrilled.
Give us mother! Serve coño! Today, if I have to obnoxiously clack my fan at anyone, it’s absolutely going to be the Argentine pop girlies.
