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A conversation with Mad Lips XXI

  • 6 days ago
  • 3 min read

A conversation with Mad Lips XXI about music, sovereignty, and movement


Music has always been part of my life.

Neon-lit staircase with purple walls featuring graffiti. A glowing sign reads "MUSIC DROPS coming this month," creating an urban vibe.

Long before releases, before platforms, before I even knew what to do with it, music was already there. For years, it lived in notebooks, poems, and unfinished sentences written without a clear destination. I didn’t really know how to channel it properly. I just knew it mattered.


In 2026, something shifted. Not only inside me, but in the world as well.


With new technologies, creating music has become more accessible than ever. Suddenly, someone like me, a caregiver, a digital artist, a woman with years of poetry tucked away in notebooks, could finally shape songs that sound like where I come from and where I want to go.


The songs I’ve released recently were never meant to chase attention or trends. They exist because certain emotions needed to exist outside of me. There is a strong sense of sovereignty in them, but it is not a performance. It is simply the voice of a woman who has lived, who no longer waits to be chosen because she chose herself a long time ago.


Music, for me, is deeply personal. It is a way to vibrate from the inside out, to leave a trace without asking permission, and to share what feels most honest within me without worrying about judgment.


I hope my music carries resilience and hope. And I hope it makes people move, because I love music that makes the body respond. If a song doesn’t make me want to stand up and feel it, I don’t release it.


That said, not everything I create is meant for the dancefloor.

Framed gold record and alien photo with "Here I am" text in a graffiti-covered room. Moody lighting and colorful, blurred background.

Here I Am is a love song. It is the kind of song you sing alone, maybe with a little too much wine, on New Year’s Eve. It exists in multiple versions because I don’t exist in only one version myself.


The futuristic version reflects the woman I am when I look forward, curious and oriented toward what’s coming. The acoustic version carries my love for classical art, elegance, and softness, and for the past, I sometimes revisit. The live version felt too powerful to ignore, so it had to exist as well.

Alien playing piano in elegant room, wearing a dress. Sheet music on piano. Text reads "Here I am." Vintage, surreal setting.

This song is very special to me. I dreamed the chorus. I woke up with it looping in my head and sang it in the shower, wondering what to do with that emotion. Then the rest of the song arrived naturally, as if it had been waiting for the right moment.


Supreme comes from a very different place.


It is a song about presence, about knowing your value, and about recognizing what you bring to the world while understanding that it is time for the world to recognize it too. It is a reggaeton track, and I know the question comes up. I am Canadian, so why reggaeton?


I was born and raised in Montreal, surrounded by multiculturalism. I discovered Latin culture early through music, friendships, and language. Selena Quintanilla-Pérez left a deep mark on me, and later, many of my closest friends were Latino. Learning Spanish came naturally, and that cultural immersion kept growing.


I also lived three years in Cuba. Humans adapt to their environments, and when you live inside a culture long enough, it leaves a mark. Even if I am not Latina by origin, the influence is real, lived, and embodied, and it naturally found its way into my music.

Gold record plaque with "Supreme" in a stylish nightclub. Image of a person in denim holding a mic. Purple lighting and a candle nearby.

Supreme speaks about sovereignty. It speaks about having walked through fire and returning transformed. That kind of journey brings a new sensitivity to self. The song carries confidence and even a touch of arrogance, but that confidence is earned. I wanted it to feel powerful while keeping its charm.


I don’t make music to please for the sake of pleasing.


For me, art is an extension of who I am. There is presence, posture, and expression in it, but I stay faithful to myself, so I never wake up regretting what I created. Even as I evolve, authenticity keeps me anchored.

Singer in denim outfit holds microphone against vibrant neon background. Text "SUPREME" in bold letters at bottom, energetic mood.

If I could speak to the woman who filled notebooks with poems, unsure they would ever be heard, I would simply say thank you. Without her, I would never have become who I am today.


Ultimately, what I want is simple. I want people to feel valued through my songs. I touch emotions that exist differently in each person, and I hope listeners recognize themselves and move toward the best version of who they can become, no matter where they are starting from.


Music, for me, is not about hype. It is about resonance.


Here I Am and Supreme will be released at the end of February.


To discover what’s coming next, you can visit


Listen to Mad Lips XXI on Spotify.

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