In just three years, Young Miko has become one of the most promising stars in reggaeton and Latin pop. On his first album “Att. », she continues to push the genre forward.
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In just three years, Young Miko has become one of the most promising stars in reggaeton and Latin pop. On his first album “Att. », she continues to push the genre forward.
Joshua Rivera/@shotsjpg
At the start of his first album, Att.., young Miko says what so many reggaeton men have already said: “Conmigo saleyour boy is not shit. ”
But those words are different from the 25-year-old Puerto Rican rapper, whose Y2K girly aesthetic and low, guttural bars have upended Latin pop norms. On Att. — the abbreviation of the official letter of signature, carefully — Young Miko’s look is fully formed, subverting the macho bravado that often dominates reggaeton and Latin trap into a weed-fueled celebration of lesbian love and sex.
“Most of the time, if I’m honest, we were just having fun. We didn’t even know there was a message in it,” she told NPR between rehearsals for Coachella, where she will officially perform for the first time next week. “The music we were making came from such an authentic, innocent place. I wasn’t like, ‘Oh my god! We’re making history! Oh my god, no girls are doing this!’ It was just me having fun.”
Young Miko’s rise through the ranks of Latin pop in three years marks a fundamental shift in the industry. She burst onto the scene with 2021’s “105 Freestyle,” where her almost cartoonish rhymes immediately distinguished her voice among the heavy trap beats that had dominated the Puerto Rican soundscape for years. With her long brown hair and fresh look, she stood out, declaring “To’ los hombres a mi vida pegao’ / Mala mía no tiro pa’ ese lao‘” or “All the men stuck to my life / My bad, I don’t swing that way”, on the brooding power flex “Vendetta” with rising rap princess Villano Antillano. In 2022, she releases her concept EP, Kitty Trapwhich told the story of a day in the life of a pole dancer, and was invited on stage by Bad Bunny during his A Verano Sin Ti toured to sing the EP’s hit “Riri,” which sampled Cali Swag District’s “Teach Me How to Dougie.”
Att. follows a particularly eventful year for Vicky, as her team and friends call her. Last summer, young Miko won her first Billboard Hot 100 entry alongside Colombian singer Feid on the song “Classy 101”. She opened several dates of Karol G’s stadium tour, singing their collaboration “Dispo” and dancing so closely together during one show that Karol sheepishly joked, “Now I’m the one getting nervous.” In October, Miko was the only woman to appear on the show Bad Bunny. Nadie Sabe Lo Que Va a Pasar Mañanaa collaboration that touched on the past, present and future of reggaeton as she and Benito screamed sexually liberated women over a sample of Tego Calderón’s “Pa’ Que Retozen.”
Now making a solo statement, Att. spans 16 tracks, including three previously released singles, and finds Miko, real name María Victoria Ramírez de Arellano, focusing on the laid-back Spanglish delivery that has been a staple of her sound since “105 Freestyle.” But the difference in her voice is palpable now, showing how much more comfortable she has become in deeper registers and extended accents in just a few years. There are also new dimensions of Miko in action here; emotionally vulnerable lyricism and playful vocalizing that she’s never shown before, perfectly matched with more experimental production across old-school hip-hop, electro-trap, and pop-punk crafted by her friend d childhood and close collaborator Mauro.
“At one point I felt like I was letting people read my diary. I know it’s going to sound funny, but this is the first time I’ve been famous,” she laughs. “This is my first time being a public figure. Hay muchas because voy aprendiendo“There are a lot of things,” she said, “she’s still learning.
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Perhaps one of Young Miko’s rising star’s biggest moments came last month, when she received the Impact Award at BillboardWomen in Music Ceremony. “I’m a firm believer that you don’t need an award as a seal of approval,” she says. “But this one goes beyond the music. It’s more about a person, a public speaker, a voice that people actually listen to.”
Latino audiences have been attuned to Miko’s sound for a few years now, ever since she was working as a tattoo artist in Puerto Rico, saving up for studio time and building a following on SoundCloud as she boasted about how easily she could lure girls onto a heavy trap. Beats. On, Kitty TrapShe said it simply: “Y e’ que to’as quieren ser bi / Desde que sali,” or “They all want to be bi / Ever since I came out.”
For those who grew up listening to often heteronormative Latin reggaeton and trap, the unapologetic nature of Miko’s identity in her music is a total game-changer. “Historically, gay people had no place in reggaeton,” says Natalia Merced, one of the leaders of the Hasta’ Bajo Project, an organization that archives the culture and legacy of reggaeton as it relates to history. from Puerto Rico. “Young Miko really created a shift in the genre because as a queer person, when I’m with my lesbian friends, Young Miko is that icon. It’s really powerful.”
This success did not happen in a vacuum. Miko is part of a rising wave of women and LGBTQ+ artists in the Caribbean who are taking the music industry by storm; others include alternative pop experimentalist RaiNao, Dominican provocateur Tokischa, and Miko’s frequent partner in perreo, Villano Antillano, who appears on Att..’s Pride anthem, “Madre,” is ready for the parade. Merced says that although women were often relegated to backing singers and uncredited video vixens in the early days of reggaeton, they are now the most exciting voices in the game.
She attributes this moment in reggaeton history to several things. First, the path blazed by artists like Ivy Queen, who has been creating unapologetically feminist clubs for decades and remaining a staunch ally of queer communities throughout her career. Additionally, she says, younger generations born into this burgeoning genre are more open-minded and talk more openly about their sexuality, which has brought in artists who reflect that reality.
“We have a queer reggaeton that feels more like a political intention,” says Merced. “But Young Miko, it feels very organic. ‘This is what I know, this is my life.’ And that has value, because as women and queer people, we have the right to just enjoy life for its own sake.”
For what it’s worth, Miko says, she didn’t really feel that weight until she started seeing what it meant to her fans. On TikTok, they call themselves “mikosexuals” and post videos dancing to songs like the 2023 viral hit “Lisa,” uplifting relationships rarely centered in Latin pop in the past. Now, she says, it’s given her a much higher purpose. And with over 28 million monthly listeners on Spotify, it’s clear that Miko’s music doesn’t just resonate with a niche audience; it became ingrained in the Latin mainstream. Producer Mauro, who is part of the 1k audiovisual collective with Miko and several other members of his team, says he knew they were taking a risk – social and creative – from day one, and it’s been paying off ever since.
“It’s really important for an artist to be honest in the studio, to not be surrounded by ‘yes-yes-yes’,” he explains. “Being surrounded by people who trust you enough to be real with you and, beyond that, who ride for you enough to tell you what’s right and what can be better.”
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In this direction, Att. looks like a painstaking compilation of Miko’s jet-setting adventures since Kitty Trapthe Liberation. She spins her picture between flights, clubs and boat parties to the vibrant melodies of “Arcoíris,” then admits the depths of a toxic relationship on “No Quiero Pelear,” where the songwriter’s saccharine vocals -performer Elena Rose blends effortlessly into Miko’s darker tone. On album standout “Tamagotchi,” a video game-like jingle collapses into punky guitars that Mauro lifted from TikTok before unexpectedly dropping into a reggaeton beat.
“Then at the end, we give the listener what they’re looking for: those Blink-182 drums that we were teasing at the very beginning,” Mauro explains.
All of these newer sounds aren’t exactly new to Young Miko, who admits she dabbled in many different genres before settling on trap and reggaeton. But much of the visual inspiration behind his music has remained the same. Similar to “Tamagotchi,” the irresistibly upbeat “Princess Peach” once again anchors Miko in the Japanese arcade and anime motifs that populate her discography and overall aesthetic; she often looks like the only female character in an early 2000s skateboarding video game — complete with baggy low-rise pants, tiny crop tops, baby braids, and pink bucket hats.
“I think I never stopped nurturing that childish imagination and that child inside,” she says. “Me here…I don’t know, like a superhero sometimes. If there are no limits“.
Right now, young Miko feels like there are no limits to what she can do. She’ll take the stage at Coachella in a few days, where she knows many people will learn who she is for the first time.
“We’re coming back to this idea of having an impact,” she says. “I don’t care if you don’t know who I am, but I want to leave my mark on this scene. I want people to walk away saying, ‘Who was that girl with white hair and a bunch of tattoos?'”
The Latin music industry already knows this – but soon, the rest of the world will too.
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