Rauw Alejandro is always searching, chasing that rush of electricity we all feel when we experience something new and vital. He doesn’t like to retread the same ground, or mine the same inspirations for long, no matter how successful they’ve proven to be. His last two albums, for example, took him from the clubs and beaches of his native Puerto Rico straight to the cosmos, where he pushed the boundaries of reggaeton, transporting the genre into a distant future full of experimental genre clashes and digital sounds.
But where do you go after you’ve flashed forward in time and explored life among the stars? As the Latin music superstar looked toward his next album, he knew the only way forward was to go back. “I wanted to do the opposite of what I’ve been doing,” he says.
It’s a Sunday in early October and Alejandro is fresh off a flight, just a few days after his headlining set at Global Citizen Festival in New York. He’s had the kind of schedule that would make almost anyone beg for a few days of rest, but Zooming in from his hotel, the Latin music star isn’t complaining. He’s actually energized—he just dropped new single, “Pasaporte,” with Mr. NaisGai, and he’s still riding the high of his electrifying debut performance at the VMAs a few weeks earlier.
The aforementioned performance was a celebration of Puerto Rico, one that clearly captured the attention of the audience (most notably Sabrina Carpenter), and offered up a taste of his hotly-anticipated fifth studio album, Cosa Nuestra. Donning a black fedora and a slick leather trench coat, he glided across the stage performing a medley of songs anchored by the percussive heartbeat of the island’s bomba and plena music.
He wanted the Puerto Ricans watching at home to feel seen, and for those watching him for the first time? “I went into it thinking, ‘Okay, if anyone doesn’t know me going into this, they’re going to after today.’”
When Alejandro started sketching out the songs that would eventually become Cosa Nuestra, he didn’t have a name in mind, he just knew the musical colors he wanted to paint with: old-school salsas and boleros, the música romántica of 1960s and 70s that introduced the world to the voices of Puerto Rican artists.
“I’m always trying to bring a piece of home with me,” he says. “Your roots and your culture—that’s something no one can ever take away from you. I think there’s something inside of me that tells me I need to share that with people, and show them what we have, because it’s magical.”
With that direction in mind, Alejandro dove headfirst into the past. At the time that he started conceptualizing the project, he had just moved to New York—a world away from the countryside town of Canóvanas he called home. Situated in northeastern Puerto Rico, Canóvanas was an idyllic place to grow up, surrounded by nature and not far from the picturesque beaches and metropolitan offerings of the nearby city of Carolina. “That was nothing compared to New York, though,” he says.
He had visited family in New York when he was younger, but at the time, it just wasn’t for him. “It was pure chaos,” he admits. “But I was also broke as fuck, so it’s not exactly the same now,” he laughs. “Things are going a little better...”
Maybe it seems counterintuitive that Alejandro would move so far from the island when he was trying to connect with its history, but he knew exactly what he was doing. In the mid twentieth century, New York was the epicenter of the salsa explosion, thanks to the ongoing migration of Puerto Ricans to the city who ushered in the Nuyorican movement—a cultural and political renaissance that inspired the work of musicians, poets, writers, artists, and activists. It’s also a period of time that Alejandro felt personally connected to, because his grandparents and his father had lived it.
“A lot of Puerto Ricans were moving to New York, trying to live out their dreams,” he says. “I wanted to revive that, and live in that moment. I wanted to feel what the city had to offer and be connected to that era of the 1970s. The more knowledge you have of where you came from, the more you can embrace it.”
Over the last year, the research for the project has made him see his own family history through new eyes. “I feel like I understand more about that generation’s mentality, their point of view, their ideas, the sacrifices, and the suffering they went through.”
As he dove into the cultural artifacts of the period, he rediscovered Cosa Nuestra—the 1969 album by Willie Colón and Héctor Lavoe that cemented them as stars, and revolutionized salsa which expanded the traditional Cuban genre by fusing it with other Afro-Caribbean rhythms and instrumentation from genres like bomba.
Then and now, the album title is a play on words. It’s a reference to the name of the Sicilian Mafia, an Italian phrase meaning “this thing of ours.” But it was also a way for Colón, Lavoe, and now Alejandro, to stake their claim and own the music contained within their albums as wholly Puerto Rican.
In the list of potential names for this album—“Because you always have a list of names,” he says—this is the one he couldn’t shake. It felt like the perfect fit, primarily because it summed up his ethos when it comes to making music. “I always want to show respect to the OGs,” he shares. “It’s 2024, and I wanted to embrace my culture, bring back some of the old sounds for a new generation, and do something different.”
In a way, he’s doing what Lavoe, Colón, and their contemporaries did back then, weaving together the sounds of the island and taking them all over the world. They broke through the rules and constraints of the genres they performed in, and created their own sound. “I always say that everything has already been invented, so it’s just about how you can spice it up and put your own touch on it. Willie and them did the same thing. I want the new generations to know who they are and what their story is. I want to connect with other generations, and reach that nostalgia for people like my dad. My biggest crowd is younger, and I want to teach them what I know.”
On Cosa Nuestra, Alejandro asserts himself as one of Latin music’s most versatile artists, pulling from a deep well of influences that blend seamlessly with the smooth tenor of his vocals. There’s still plenty of modern-day sounds to be found, but they’re baked into homages to artists like Frankie Ruiz and James Brown—the inspiration for his song, “Sex Machine,” which features his father on the guitar.
When he was recording the song, Alejandro knew he wanted his dad to hop on the track. His father was the one who had taught him how to play the guitar, and this would be a full circle moment for the two of them. “I told him I needed him, so I just hooked everything up and asked him to freestyle, and he was just like, ‘Dale,’” he says. “He had so many good takes, it was hard to pick the best one. He’s a natural musician, and he has one of the best ears.”
The music captures the electricity of the recording process, which marked Alejandro’s first time being in the studio entirely accompanied by live musicians. “My favorite place to be is the studio,” he says. “The energy is always great, and I’m just in my zone, but this time, getting to see people playing live, it just shows you the power of music, because most of the time, I’m producing just with my MIDI, my computer, my ideas, my sounds. But when you’re playing with people, it just adds another dimension. It feels like constant creation.”
Alejandro is meticulous with his albums. And while the term “era” can sometimes feel overused in today’s pop landscape, it’s not one he uses lightly. To him, an era truly is an all-encompassing stage of his musical career, enveloping everything from his sound, his visuals, all the way down to his aesthetic. In the process of making the album, he’s largely ditched the sneakers and bright blue hair of the Saturno era for a slicked back coiffe, and a wardrobe that features neatly-tailored pinstripe trousers, leather loafers, tinted shades, bowler shirts, and double-breasted blazers.
“I’m going for that Peaky Blinders type vibe,” he says. “Something 1920s, but with a little of that 70s sauce, that’s what I think Cosa Nuestra is. It’s a strong title, so you have to have a strong presence with it. I like to live my character.”
The process pushes him creatively, immersing him in the world he’s trying to build for his listeners. On a personal level, it often allows him to reflect on himself. “I think with this album, I’ve realized I’m more serious about my job,” he says. “There’s been more focus, more discipline since I turned 30.”
It’s a change he’s mostly noticed in his lyrics. “I still have the cool lyrics for the streets,” he says. “But I’ve also written songs that a 60-year-old man could listen to. It’s a more mature album.”
With age has also come a new perspective on his music. After spending the last several years touring and performing his music for audiences all over the world, he’s seen up close the power of music to transport people somewhere they’ve never been, to introduce them to cultures, ideas, and stories they haven’t experienced. “That’s why I have a responsibility,” he says. “I have to show people what Puerto Rico really is, because I’m so grateful to be born on the island. With every stage I’m on, I’m waving that flag, and it’s a good feeling to show just a little bit of what we have through my art, and I’m going to keep doing it until I’m done, whenever that is.”
For Alejandro, it makes sense to commit fully in everything he does. Why not go 100% when, by this time next year, inspiration might call again, and he’ll be pulled in a brand new direction? He doesn’t anticipate it, he just waits, knowing it’ll come. “Who knows what’s going to happen next?” he says. “I just flow, como el viento (like the wind).” Right now, though? “This is my favorite era so far.”
Photographed by: Mark Seliger
Styled by Daniel Edley
Written by Cat Cardenas
Grooming: Millie Morales
Managing Director: Kyle Kilness
Executive Producer: Ruth Levy
Producer: Madi Overstreet
Digi Tech/First Assistant: Romy Kirchauer
Photo Assistant: Reggie Desilus
Photo Intern: Will Foerster
Production Interns: Liam Campora and Zoey Knipstein
Flaunt Film: Tyler Rabin and Jabari Browne
BTS: Danilo Campos
Post Supervisor: Rachel Crowe