Finally Understanding Kali Uchis
It took several years and a festival performance for me to connect with the music of Kali Uchis on a significant level.
There’s a lot of humility in admitting you’re wrong about an artist. I’m sure one day I’ll wake up and all of a sudden “get” Billie Eilish, or SZA – in fact, I look forward to it. Kali Uchis was one of these artists for me. For most of her career, I never fully understood her whole gambit.
Of course, in both my college radio and dorm-room-weed-smoking days, I became casually familiar with her body of work. Songs like “After the Storm” and “Tyrant” got massive airplay in the USC sophomore housing complex, and when Sin Miedo (del Amor y Otros Demonios) came out in 2020, I remember running back her Rico Nasty collab “¡aquí yo mando!” until I got sick of it. Talk about charisma, uniqueness, nerve, and talent.
Generally, though, Uchis’s brand of woozy R&B pop was not my bag. Her popularity evaded me, especially as she came up next to other artists like Tyler, the Creator and Omar Apollo.
However: 2023 changed things. She had released her album Red Moon In Venus, but more importantly, I was an attendee of Camp Flog Gnaw. For some, the two-day music festival is merely the National Dickies Convention of Los Angeles. But for others, CFG is a haven for a certain type of Gen-Z music appreciator. Where else could you see Ice Spice, PinkPantheress, and beabadoobee the same weekend as Clipse, Fuerza Regida, and Turnstile?
Kali’s performance was Saturday night on the main stage, and on a whim, I thought I’d check it out. I had already written up her track “Moonlight” for Pitchfork, and the songs I had heard from Red Moon In Venus I enjoyed. (If you haven’t heard “Blue,” tap in.)
And that night, in the Dodger Stadium parking lot, I was made a bona fide Kali Uchis fan. Lounging comfortably on a stage couch, the Colombian-American singer-songwriter used the next fifty minutes to effortlessly swing back and forth from genre to genre. She sang songs from her entire career, dazzled with a cover of “Piensa en mi” by Grupo Mojado, and gave a preview of the tracks that would become her latest record Orquídeas. I heard merengue, I heard lots of reggaeton, I even heard 90’s Selena-style technocumbia.
When Orquídeas dropped two weeks ago, I was geeked to hear a lot of the same sounds. It felt like a love letter to Latin music. As a Latine, I saw the album as an “if you know, you know” take on genre that rivaled some of the diaspora’s best offerings over the past few years: Bad Bunny’s Un Verano Sin Ti, Rosalía’s MOTOMAMI, Nathy Peluso’s CALAMBRE.
If you haven’t listened to the record, check it out as soon as you can and give the most recent episode of Switched on Pop a listen, as we explore all that Kali Uchis has to offer. Maybe we can make you a fan, too.
– Reanna
Here’s some team recommendations this week:
Charlie: Blinky Bill is one of Kenya’s best music producers and a friend of the pod. You’ve heard him on the show help us dissect the African influences in Drake and the Lion King. His latest album We Cut Keys 2 is a melange of heavy, funky, and danceable beats that really defy explanation. Put this one on when you need to power through work, push through a set of exercise, cruise on a long trip, or best of all, when you need to dance and let loose. There is no wrong way to listen to this album, just listen to it.
Jolie: Chinese artist Akini Jing makes dreamy pop electronica that sometimes veers into nightmare territory. The track "VILLAIN" from her brand new album does just that as her soaring piano-backed choruses give way to a grimy guest spot from UK drill rapper TeeZandos.
Brandon: I just started listening to Cash Cobain’s “Love Slizzy” album today (I know I’m late!) The samples throughout the record give me 90’s and 2000’s nostalgia over NY Drill percussion, which is fresh. But I’m actually feeling the sample-less “clocking u” right now. It’s more melodic and moody NY Drill, but super pared-back and filtered. Drill&B? Naked Drill? Either way it’s a blap.
Art: This is a seasonal pick: "January Hymn" by the Decemberists – perfectly captures the feeling of a cold winter's day, intertwined with the underlying sadness of a lost romance. If Robert Frost was an indie rock hipster, this is what he'd come up with.