In the music video for the 2021 hit “Dance Crip,” Argentinian rapper Trueno bikes, walks, and dances through Buenos Aires’ soulful La Boca neighborhood. With a deadly bassline, funky female choruses, and the MC’s breathless flow, “Dance Crip” established the 22-year-old as one of the most creative voices in the emerging field of Latin hip-hop.
The son of Uruguayan-born MC Peligro, Trueno (real name Mateo Palacios Corazzina) won freestyle competitions as a teenager and rose to prominence when his YouTube session with Argentine wunderkind producer Bizarrap went viral. He is part of a triumphant new wave of Argentine rappers who have enjoyed global success over the past decade—from Cazzu and Nicki Nicole to Duki and Tiago PZK—and whose sound betrays the inescapable influences of trap and reggaetón.
Trueno’s sophomore album, 2022’s Bien O Mal (“Good or Evil”), was an operatic masterpiece with live instrumentation and guest stars from a variety of genres. In contrast, this year’s El Último Baile (“The Last Dance”) – Trueno’s debut under new label Sony Music Latin – is a breezy love letter to the roots and glory of hip-hop culture. Key album tracks like “Tranky Funky” and “Real Gangsta Love” became his most successful releases to date, with the latter being certified RIAA Gold in the U.S. and hitting No. 1 on Spotify in Spain and Argentina, as well as reaching the top 10 on several global streaming charts.
Building on this momentum, Trueno toured the United States for the first time, beginning with a performance at the Outside Lands Music Festival in San Francisco and impressive performances in Los Angeles, New York City and Miami. During a brief break in his international tour, Trueno spoke with diversity about his creative process, a recent financial dispute and the importance of staying positive.
I’m still trying to process the epic scope of your previous album, 2022’s Bien O Mal. How did you approach creating a cinematic album?
At this stage, every new project is a learning experience. I don’t feel established or fulfilled or anything like that.
Bien o Mal was an important step for me because I felt a responsibility to convey a message – to connect hip-hop culture with the indigenous sounds of Argentina and South America. My first album had allowed me to visit countries, see things from a different perspective and meet Latin Americans in other corners of the world. These experiences helped me realize that I belong in a certain place and Bien o Mal allowed me to express that.
“El Último Baile” is a sprawling record, a conceptual devotion to the many facets of hip-hop. And it’s very short – just 30 minutes long. Is that intentional?
That was the challenge, yes. Bien o Mal is a long album, split into two parts with an interlude in the middle. I wanted to avoid repetition, but also create the feeling that El Último Baile is a dance party from start to finish – and the songs are all connected. It’s about partying, and I hope that people feel like they want to listen to the whole thing in one go.
It’s also such a life-affirming record. Do you consider positivity an important part of your musical identity?
Absolutely. Hip-hop was born out of necessity, out of a lack of resources and solutions. But it also came out of the idea of throwing a party in the neighborhood and letting the gangs compete in a rap duel instead of killing each other. The problems of the streets are similar in all urban centers around the world. If we create a sense of unity among the suffering people, we can build a new future together. Hip-hop can help eliminate crime and murder – paths that should not be taken.
It is much more realistic to dissolve the boundaries and differences than to pretend to be tough. A singer is a singer, a tough guy is a tough guy – I am not really convinced by the idea of being both. I have younger siblings and the children in my District Consider me a role model.
Many of your songs are reminiscent of the melodic lightness and funky atmosphere of classic hip-hop of the 90s…
I’m very happy about that. Even though I was born 10 years after that era – and so far away from the US – I grew up with a father who is an activist in that movement and I’ve been listening to hip hop all my life. Each of my albums is a way of expressing my gratitude to a music that has taught me so much.
Exuberant female choir parts are a big part of your sound identity. How did that come about?
That’s because I grew up listening to music by great producers like Dr. Dre, Pharrell, and the Neptunes. Sometimes it’s the song itself that screams for those great female voices – I hear them in my head before I even record it. I also like when other people contribute their energy to my project. Since (“El Último Baile”) has no features, the guest artists are the producers, musicians, and singers who contributed their talent.
Your previous management took over your publishing company and you were forced to buy back the rights at a high price. Have you fully recovered from this experience?
I was 17 when I started working with this team and I never saw music as a business. But we live in a complicated world with people who have ulterior motives and don’t share our sense of the arts. The last thing I care about is luxury and making money and I was too naive about these financial matters.
It’s a trial and error process though. Now I’m surrounded by people who have honest intentions to give me the means to advance my music. I’ll be happy as long as I see the crowd singing and jumping when I’m on stage. People can take my money and whatever they want. But they’ll never manage to kill my passion for music.
