Evanescence reaches No. 1 on Billboard’s Rock & Alternative Airplay chart for the first time, lifting a spot to the top of the July 19-dated tally with “Afterlife.”

The song drew 4.6 million audience impressions in the week ending July 10, according to Luminate.

Evanescence earns its first ruler on the survey, which began in 2009. The Amy Lee-led band’s previous best, “What You Want,” peaked at No. 11 in 2011.

“Afterlife” previously topped Mainstream Rock Airplay for two weeks, also marking the group’s first No. 1 on the chart, as previously reported. It ranks at No. 3 on the latest survey.

“Afterlife” also rises 21-20 on Alternative Airplay, becoming Evanescence’s first top 20 entry since “What You Want,” which reached No. 14.

On the most recently published multimetric Hot Hard Rock Songs chart (dated July 19, covering data accumulated June 27-July 3), “Afterlife” ranked at No. 7, after peaking at No. 4 in April. In addition to its radio airplay, the song earned 858,000 official U.S. streams.

“Afterlife” is featured in the Netflix anime series Devil May Cry, which premiered April 3.

Lee recently told Billboard that while she wasn’t familiar with the series prior to the band’s involvement with it, “I absolutely love the show, art and story. I have always loved good anime. Right from the first scene of the show, I knew it was going to be good. Creative and thought-provoking, horrific and beautiful, classic.”

All Billboard charts dated July 19 will update Tuesday, July 15, on Billboard.com.

On the eve of his new album The Killah Whales of Gotham — which dropped back on June 27 — GASHI admits that he’s terrified. The Albanian, New York-bred artist has long established himself as a musical acrobat, tumbling and twirling from hip-hop (2019’s GASHI), to R&B (2022’s Elevatorz), to EDM (“Safety,” “Creep On Me”), to country (2024’s Brooklyn Cowboy) and even ’80s funk (2020’s 1984). But his return to rap feels particularly vulnerable this time around.

While GASHi’s cross-genre back-bends have garnered him hefty co-signs from some of music’s biggest talents, on Killah Whales of Gotham — GASHI’s latest album via his own label Orca Sound Records — the 34-year-old sounds pained, frustrated and fed up. Once a buzzing new artist, his career admittedly stumbled due to what he says was a combination of factors: toxic label dealings, personal frustrations, crumbling romantic relationships, the pandemic and much more.

It’s been a lot of weight to carry for such an artistic shapeshifter, who has done his best to make his art as authentic as possible while paying homage to the greats that inspired him along the way. This album is the first time in his career where he’s the captain of his own ship. He’s fully in control, a CEO, and ready for all the turmoil and blessings that may bring.

Yet while a new album is usually cause for celebration, GASHI decides in a lengthy interview with Billboard to take on the role of an industry whistleblower. Here, he speaks on behind-the-scenes turbulence that’s left him unable to execute his vision time and time again, and how it’s time to sound the alarm on what he sees as an industry in turmoil.

“I can’t give up on these four kids that I feed every day,” GASHI says via Zoom. “I can’t give up on my sister who I help pay the rent, I can’t give up on my parents who I help pay the mortgage with and pay for their car. So that’s the motivation — but do you know how difficult it is?”

Check out our interview with GASHI below, about everything from issues with other artists, to his tumultuous road to independence, to why he decided to bare his soul on his rawest project to date.

The Killah Whales of Gotham drops at midnight — how are you feeling?

I’m so f—king nervous, excited though. I don’t know man It’s been such a journey for me. This is my sixth album. It just feels like I’ve been here before but the feeling never gets old. It’s something that I still get super excited for. I never wanna get comfortable.

It is different this time around. You’re fully independent for the first time. Is the added pressure of that making it feel scarier?

Yeah, because I’ll usually do an album ,and I’ll put it out and have the label kinda run everything, and this time it’s a different story. It’s kinda like a whole new world out there, and I just need to kind of be more in charge than I usually am, and it’s a very scary feeling. The label usually pushes every button for you, and other artists they just hold plaques and act surprised that they’ve gotten those plaques or gotten certain looks — but the label, the big machine, basically gets those things for the artist. But in my position it’s a different world. I gotta be prepared to not have my big brother, you know?

That sort of creative control is what makes being independent so exciting though. So fear aside, it must feel exciting?

Yeah, It’s a crazy situation. I feel like the way it all lands on me, it’s a lot of pressure — but at the same time, I feel like I have to step up to the plate, if I’m gonna say that I’m a CEO. Or if I’m gonna say that I’m taking on this role of being the guy that runs his label and is responsible for his own career, I can’t choke. It’s not easy, but at the same time one thing I’m learning now is all the greatest things that have happened to me have happened when I didn’t crack under pressure. That’s when I’ve leveled up.

I never leveled up in my career without having a moment that defined that for me. So nowadays when people tell me, “I’m going through this, I’m going through a lot.” All I say to them is, “Congratulations, you leveled up.” That’s all that means. It’s a lot of pressure being independent but that’s the whole point of the Killah Whales of Gotham — the whole point of being an Orca, is being able to be in the biggest city in the water and not let anything move you.

You’re very open about your artistic struggles on this album. In the past, you’ve made country albums, ’80s funk albums — why did you feel straight hip-hop was the best way for you to tell your story at this point in your career?

I came in to the game rapping and I felt like — I’ve been such a genre-bending artist for so long that I didn’t think it was gonna be a problem to keep doing it. Then what I realized is, a lot of artists take away from hip-hop and culture and then they go away. They use it for what they need to get out of it, like Post Malone. Post Malone is a perfect example of using the culture for what he needed… He used it for as much as he could, and then he dipped out, and I didn’t wanna be seen as that. I didn’t wanna be seen as the guy that used it.

[Rap] got me in the game, and I needed to go back — because I’m a guest in hip-hop, and that’s okay to say! But I needed to make sure that I bring it. With hip-hop and culture, if you really love it, then you don’t abandon it. You don’t make money from it and then leave it. So I wanted to go back to rap because I felt like it was time for me to go back to my family, to what got me hot, to what got me lit, to what made me love music. I love every genre, everybody knows that — but the reality is, hip-hop is what got me to record. Hip-hop was there for me when nothing was there for me.

Even though we listened to everything in my household. Hip-hop artists were the ones hanging on my walls… It wasn’t The Beatles, it was Jay-Z, it was Nas, it was Rakim, it was Eminem. These were the dudes who got me to do what I did, and it was only right for me to come back and give back instead of abandoning it and use it kinda like everybody else did. Like, OK cool, I dropped a country album and I made it my own thing. I turned it into a New York thing where I called it Brooklyn Cowboy where I didn’t abandon my identity. I didn’t let go of who I am, I’m still a Brooklyn guy. I put a Yankee logo on a cowboy hat which was genius, everybody loved it, and I had everybody in hip-hop culture reaching out trying to buy a hat from me and it was amazing. But then I go to Nashville, and they’re more gate-keepy than any genre in the world!

That must have been frustrating.

It’s annoying as hell when you feel like you work so hard and then you have to start over somewhere where you feel like the people that you’re about to work with are not understanding who you are. It’s cool, they don’t need to know what Brooklyn Cowboy is, but you have to respect it because I’m doing my own thing. I didn’t move to Nashville and get every feature in country to help my album.

Listening back through your catalog, it does seem like what matters to you most is remaining authentic to your own sound while also making sure you work with the legends of whatever genre you’re in. Like when you worked with Sting on “Mama.”

Thank you for saying that — and yeah, I didn’t reach out to Sting, Sting reached out to me. He loved my voice, he loved who I was. We didn’t get my manager to pay for every feature in the f—king business to get me hot. It’s so annoying the fact that some artists do those things where they just use as many people as possible to get to where they need to get to then abandon it. I feel like I don’t move that way. I’m authentic to me. I respect the world I’m going into.

You gotta educate yourself. Some people doing rap right now don’t even know it came from the Bronx! Ask a young rapper right now where rap came from and try to ask them to educate you on the job they’re in, and they don’t even know. If you’re walking into a building and you’re trying to get a job and you don’t know who started it and you don’t know the history, why would they give you a job?

I feel you, it’s important to do your homework when you’re stepping into other genres. You’re still a student of music.

100%, and I didn’t pull the typical, “Let me go to Texas” — I went to Alabama, I went to Muscle Shoals. I slept at Muscle Shoals and I wanted to record an entire project at Muscle Shoals. I watched the Muscle Shoals documentary and got inspired, and saw that The Rolling Stones, who are not a country band, went there. Lana Del Rey, who is not a country artist, was there with me recording her project, and I did not go to Muscle Shoals to take advantage of those people. I went there to learn, in the hope that we can make magic and release stuff we all love. That was the intention of Brooklyn Cowboy.

And with [Killah Whales of Gotham], I went to Staten Island. People know me as the garbage man, janitor, that’s signed to Jay-Z. That’s the story. So how do I give back? Well, I found a garbage man producer who produced the whole album!

For real?

Yeah! A garbage man from Staten Island who nobody knows named Dom Casella produced this entire project with me. I was the executive producer and I had a garbage man, who we had to wait to get off the garbage truck, with his uniform, to make this in Staten Island. The first artist that we signed to put on this album worked for FedEx.

Was it intentional for you to try and tap in with working class, undiscovered artists on this project?

I don’t think it was intentional. Hans Zimmer was at a gas station and saw a guy sing the Lion King song and brought him in. I love to give opportunity. My entire career I begged for opportunity that people wouldn’t give me. So that was the intention, is that these are talented human beings that will never get a shot. Why don’t I give them the shot? How am I in this position to be giving people opportunity and I’m not doing it? What’s up with that?

That’s the point. That’s how I’ve always been. No paralysis through analysis… you gotta understand bro, every single legend was once a rookie. So the idea with this album was I needed to go to where Wu-Tang lived. I lived in Staten Island. My brother lives in Staten Island so I went to stay with my brother and said, “Yo, let me stay in your basement!”

So I stayed, for an entire winter, in his basement, driving from his house to Dom Casella’s house, because he had no studio. I watched Dom Casella cook beats up with me, and we made this project. It’s very, very crazy. I didn’t go to the biggest producers — and I had the option to do that. I decided to not take that approach because it wasn’t authentic to the album. I need to be able to live a moment and live in a space before creating a project. That’s what makes my project’s authentic.

When I did [1984], I was in Malibu in 2015, and that’s what sucked about being part of a label. They made me wait five years to drop that project. 1984 was done in 2015, I released it in 2020, and the world ended. So I didn’t have the chance to really shine. The point I’m making here is not to flex, it’s that these artists are not doing what I’m doing. They’re not living what they’re recording! My artwork, I want you to feel it. I need to capture the essence, the vibe of the world. I apologize, because I get so passionate when I speak about music, because I just love it.

It’s just very unfortunate that we’re living in such a time where everything is moving at such a fast pace. People are losing why we started this in the first place. They’re losing the idea, they’re losing everything, because musicians are being low-balled and not getting paid what they used to.

You mention that on “Hustle to Disappear.” You said you made this album to save rap. What are your thoughts on the state of hip-hop right now?

It just feels like nobody cares anymore. They’re signing kids that don’t know the history — and I don’t wanna sound like an old head, but the reality is: Jay-Z is Jay-Z, Drake is Drake, Kendrick is Kendrick because they actually care! They care about this stuff. We’re not gonna be able to make a living and feed our families off of our art if you keep bringing kids in it that don’t give a f—k. We used to rap about selling drugs and now we’re rapping about taking ’em. These kids are dying at a very young age and these labels are not giving a f—k about it.

We need to stand the f—k up. When the actors went on strike so you can’t AI them? It was all good! Rappers need to get up and strike. The fact we’re getting bootlegged and people are grabbing our voices and using ’em, rap needs to be taken as serious as any other genre! I just feel like a lot of people get that messed up. These corporations don’t care, these labels don’t care, and we should care. It’s very important to take care of these artists. We’re not developing no more, we’re allowing these artists to completely die out, and it’s so sad.

That’s why I was saying I need to save rap. When I said that, it was kinda crazy because it’s so f—king dramatic — because I can’t save it! It can’t only be me, but I want to remind people why we love this s—t. I hate to sound like I’m complaining, but we need to do something.

Especially in your situation, for you specifically it feels like you really got thrown into the music industry blender and came out the other side of it. It makes sense that you’d wanna be a whistleblower.

Exactly. Nobody would have expected me, an Albanian garbage man from Brooklyn, to sign with Jay-Z, to sign with RCA Records for millions of dollars. That s—t does not happen. My parents don’t speak english, I’m fighting for my life every single day to stay afloat just so we can never go back to the way we used to live. That s—t does not happen. You don’t hear that story every day. That’s the real American dream. When you hear stories like Travis Scott got signed to Kanye West. People forget that DJ Premier and Travis Scott’s father were friends and Premier got him to T.I. and T.I. got him to Kanye West. I don’t have that story. There’s no story like [mine].

Drake had a connection, his father was a musician and it got to Lil Wayne this and that — I’m not saying that these people are not talented. I’m just saying I don’t have a connection. I only have my mom, my dad, my sister and my brother. There’s no connection out of that. We came to this country with nothing. I’ve dated the biggest artist in the world. I dated the biggest superstar in the world, and when people hear about it from my mom, or my dad speaks about it or my sister does and tells her friends, “My brother was really gonna marry his favorite person in the world” — they can’t believe, they can’t believe it when her name is dropped, and the reason why they can’t believe it is because I’m really from the mud, bro. I really come from the struggle. I really lived in my uncle’s basement, I really lived in a shelter. I really lived in a refugee building.

That makes sense then that with each album you aim to tap in to different artists version of that American dream and subsequent struggle.

Exactly, Jay-Z did The Blueprint in one weekend, he did eight songs. Like, what was he doing? When you hear these stories of these incredible albums, it’s like, “Damn, what were these people f—king doing?” I want people to listen to one of my projects and be like, “Yo, what was this guy going through?’” Now you get a chance to know what I was going through because you’re hearing it straight out of a Billboard magazine, from the horse’s mouth. I’ve really lived this life, I’ve really lived this situation, I really had a mental breakdown.

Being in the music business is probably the most difficult thing in the world. People say things, “Why are these artists dying? Why did Kurt Cobain go through what he went through?” Y’all don’t understand how difficult it is to be in the music business. I personally think the greatest musicians in the world would not last in this time.

Why not?

Because you are not getting George Michael to do a TikTok, no way. You’re not getting Phil Collins to do a TikTok, you’re not getting Depeche Mode to do a TikTok. It’s not happening, it’s not. Imagine Prince doing a TikTok? That’s not happening, never. They would not last in this f—king time. You’ll drop an album and not drop for another two or three years and they’ll say: “He fell off.” Imagine Prince and Michael Jackson reading these comments about them? This era is f—ked up, and I hate to sound dark, but it’s not meant for musicians. I’m low-key waiting for the person that cracks the code, where we are alive again and we win again.

You touch on that on “Be Somebody.” You and Caskey seem to have gone through a similar situation considering what you both rap about on the record. How did that song together and what made you lock in with Caskey?

I chose Caskey, because this is a human being that I would see as I was going in and out of studios and I was hustling. Rather, it was me selling drugs to other artists or it was me poppin’ in as a writer, whatever it was that I was doing to survive in the music business. I would see this kid and I would always see him, regardless where it was, grinding like me. I think Caskey is way more talented than like 90% of rappers in the industry, and it’s very sad that he signed to Lil Wayne and Birdman and never had that opportunity. Never had the chance to be great. He was put in a blender, and he made it out. He’s still here, still grinding and developing his own story. He’s still showing and sharing his own story, telling you: ‘I’m still here, I didn’t quit.’

Those are the artists I wanna work with. That’s the reason why I picked him, because his story is so authentic, his story is so dope. This is a kid who walked into a room and saw his father commit suicide. That’s what he says on the lyrics — and that brings tears to my eyes bro, because I love my parents so much. I’m stuck with what I’m stuck with half the time, because my dad is sick right now and I’m trying to f—king — I’m tryna squeeze every f—king second with him as we speak. I live somewhere else, but I’ve been spending time staying at my dad’s house so I can wash him and wake up every day, so I can feel good about my day, because I’m always worried he’s not gonna wake up the next day. That’s why I put Caskey on there because I feel his pain, and it’s artists like him that need opportunity.

I’m so sorry to hear about your father. That’s awful, I lost my dad to cancer back in 2017 so I know how agonizing it is to see someone like your dad, who as a kid was like a titan to you —

Just fall apart, you know? I’m so sorry man. I don’t understand it. It f—king sucks. My dad’s a warrior man, he still gets up every day and goes to work. He doesn’t allow himself to completely fall apart, but it’s so hard. He’s working because he thinks his body is gonna fall apart if he doesn’t. This Albanian mentality, he can retire at any moment. He retired once but what happened was he got diabetes from just chilling in the house. That was just the beginning of the end. And that’s why I chose Caskey, man. I needed someone real here to tell their story.

Keeping all this in mind, I can’t help but notice throughout this interview you sound frustrated and slightly exhausted.

I read something where it said, “Michael Jackson would wake up and execute an idea before Prince could take it,” and I felt like a lot of my ideas were taken by other artists. I didn’t have the luxury of having money my whole career. The guy who discovered me, his name was Austin Rosen. He’s a big boss in the music business, and when he believes in something he’ll fund his own money. I never had that opportunity to get that shot of having somebody bring my ideas to life. I always had to be late, I had to work so hard to get my idea out. So every time I would get my idea out, somebody else would do it and pay for more marketing and I would look like the f—king guy chasing the trends when I set the trend.

If you look at my career and look at the dates, I’ve always been ahead of the sound and what’s going on. Now being independent, I have the opportunity, like, “Yo, f—k it, it doesn’t need to be perfect, just drop it.” That’s where I’m at.

That is the plus side of being independent is you’re able to execute ideas when you want.

Yeah, and listen man, I don’t wanna come off bitter. I don’t wanna come off angry, because I’m not. Every artist is frustrated, they’re just not me, I’m vocal. I’m vocal because I’m expressive — and there’s nothing wrong with being vocal about dealing with frustrations and dealing with people who take advantage of you, and who leave you to die when they can’t use you.

On “Black Fish in Tuxedos” you speak about your label struggles, your issues with Post Malone (“I dropped the country album, I ain’t even f–king country/ Then Post Malone went and put the c–t in the country”) and I’m curious how it feels being an artist out here that’s so transparent about your career struggles. Do you feel this type of honesty is being championed by other artists?

A lot of people share their stories with me behind closed doors. What can I say, you know? When you meet these people, you learn they’re also just as scared as you. Maybe even more scared.

Why was it important for you to open up on “Black Fish” and to kind of own up to this idea of falling off?

I just wanted people to know that I’ve been put in very difficult situations with some major people in the industry who tried to take advantage of me, and I did not bend over for them. See, you don’t have to be talented to be successful in the music business, you have to be stupid enough to be taken advantage of. That’s all it is, it’s a business.

I’ve been at parties before where I’ve seen people try to do stuff to my drink, I’ve seen people try to take advantage of me, and I’m sober. So I’m aware of all my surroundings. I’ve seen people try to put me in the position where I get the least half of the pie. I’ve seen people try to give me the least percent on a song that I wrote. So there are so many things that have happened to me where anybody else would not have survived.

You’ve seen people try to mess with your drink? That’s terrifying.

Yeah, man! I’ve seen people try to f—k with my drink. I’m not gonna name who, but big-time people in the music business have tried to f—k with my drink and take advantage of me. I’ve seen the worst of the worst. I’ve been in parties where I’ve seen people black out. I always leave before it gets crazy. I’m so thankful and I’m so blessed that I’m sober. I never allowed anyone to do anything to make me look crazy. When you have that mindset, they label you difficult, they label you unhinged, they say all these negative things about you when all you wanna do is be human and have your respect and dignity.

Look, I love everyone and I’m a fan of everyone. Regardless of what your sexual preference is, I respect you and love you. But nobody wants to hook up with somebody they’re not into, and it’s a lot of that stuff going on — where people try to force themselves on you, but they’ll say they get you this and get you that and try to bribe you. Dude, I’m exhausted, I’m beat up, I watch these artists hold these plaques and act surprised when they bought all those streams. I’m going up against robots, and I’m busting my f–king ass, and they’re completely not looking at me because I don’t have the bots.

Yeah, I mean, that sounds exhausting and frustrating.

Yeah, I just don’t wanna be on here on this interview sounding like Russ. I don’t wanna be on this interview just sounding like some dude that’s angry with the industry. I’m playing the game, I learned the game, and I just want kids to learn the game. It’s okay to say the industry is falling apart, because it is! It’s okay to say it, because you do not need them anymore. There’s no gatekeeping, there’s no blackballing anymore. Unless you’re in country.

Kinda going off of that, I do have to ask about Post Malone. You mention him by name on “Black Fish in Tuxedos” and “No Reservation at Torrisi.”

Real motherf—kers are really out here doing s—t. I can do what Post Malone does, Post Malone could never do what I do. He could never rap. That’s why this album is important, because a culture vulture like Post Malone could never ever do what I f—king do. He’s never been through my s—t. He could never have a real story like me, he’s not me, he will never be me. He will never know what it’s like to struggle… He will never know what it’s like to be a real artist, but he sits there, he pretends to be f—king drunk with a cigarette, doing these weird ass f—king dances, nothing. He fooled the f—king world, but he can never fool the real ones. He used everybody to get what he needed and he bounced, and that’s why this album is important because I do not wanna be seen as that motherf—ker.

After all is said and done you close the record with “Short Story Long,” offering up some seriously vulnerable bars. Having such a lengthy song as the closing track made me wonder if crafting this album was emotionally taxing for you, and if you ever felt burnt out while creating it?

Yeah man, sometimes you wanna close the book and never look at it. Sometimes you just wanna burn it, and when you’re making records you have to open that shit up again and it hurts a lot. You never really felt pain until you did it sober, and I feel that s—t every day. I’m not like a lot of artists who numb their pain with drugs. I’m friends with these guys. The other day I was with a huge artist in my car. We drove by a project building as he bought a bag of cocaine. It’s dark as f—k, but this is the situation these artists have been put through, where before 2020 you were in the f—king sky, and then you fall. How are you gonna face yourself? I know an artist that’s huge and he has no mirrors in his house, because he can’t stand to look at himself.

It’s the struggle we’re in, dude — it’s the silent depression. Every musician is going through it and they’re staying silent about it because if you say something now you look like you fell off. If you say something, now you look like you’re hurting. So they’re staying silent. They’re flexing on Instagram but crying behind closed doors.

You’ve said a lot in this interview. Are you worried at all about any consequences that may come from you continuing to speak out against the industry?

No dude, I’m ready to f—king die. I don’t really give a f—k. I can pack my s—t up right now and go f—king do clothing, do fashion, start my own fragrance. I don’t f—king care anymore. I’ve been in a relationship for sixteen years with a b—h that didn’t give me love back. When I say b—h, I mean the industry. Imagine putting sixteen years into a b—h, feeding her, making sure the kids are cleaned and ready for f—king school, you’re busting your f—king ass, just for this b—h to never lift a finger. That s—t will f—k you up. If you’re gonna treat me like s—t, regardless of if I put on or I don’t, then I might as well just say f—k it and crash out.

People need to wake the f—k up. It’s not about the best song, it’s about the best money. I was Grammy-nominated as a writer. I performed with Sting on Jimmy Fallon… I’ve had so many accolades that we never ever put money behind to try and enhance. All these artists do is put money behind their accolades to make it look like they’re the biggest thing in the world, and if you keep reading on a paper that something is the biggest thing in the world, eventually you’ll believe it.

So what does the future of GASHI look like?

I don’t know, I think I’m not gonna get away from this Killah Whales thing. I think this is the official brand for who I am and what I am. I’m really enjoying it and I’m very excited about it. I just want people to be like, ‘Damn this is the most versatile artist in the world.’ People need to not forget man. I’m the only Albanian artist who brings his gay fans on stage, because they get punched in the head at the shows for being gay. I bring my gay fans on stage, and I make sure they’re protected at all times. People look at me and go, “What are you doing?” Because they think they got me figured out because I’m a rapper. They have no idea I love and stand for humanity. I love my gay fans. I would die for them.

I wanna be a generational artist. Being a generational artist and being iconic, you don’t get on a Billboard magazine and talk about other artists. That’s why I know I’m gonna hang up this call and be like, “Damn I wish I never even spoke about [Post Malone].” Because I don’t want the interview to be about him. It’s about me. It’s my moment, my f—king album — but I did bring him up on the album, so he is a part of it. I wanna close this chapter, I want to be known and respected for my art and my craft and I wanna be seen as an original and not a copy. But you never know, I might never see my flowers.

The voice of the great Juan Gabriel resonated once again on Friday (July 11) to the rhythm of traditional mariachi with the release of the previously unheard song “Nunca Había Amado Así,” the second single from the upcoming posthumous album by the legendary Mexican singer-songwriter, Eterno, set to be released on Sept. 5.

The track, composed by Alberto Aguilera Valadez — Juan Gabriel’s birth name — is regarded as a hidden musical gem in his repertoire. Originally conceived as a bolero, the song has been recorded with a completely new musical arrangement and previously unreleased vocals recorded before his passing in 2016, according to a press release from record label Virgin Music Group.

“Nunca Había Amado Así” is accompanied by an official music video featuring archival footage of the artist performing alongside a mariachi group, with some musicians even appearing to play their instruments in heaven thanks to the use of artificial intelligence.

The single was produced by Guillermo Hernández Galicia, who worked for 23 years as a musician, arranger, director and musical coordinator of the mariachi that accompanied Juan Gabriel, leaving an unmistakable mark on his sound.

“Producing and arranging ‘Nunca Había Amado Así’ has been, for me, a way of returning to that profound love that Alberto Aguilera Valadez, our beloved Juan Gabriel, conveyed in every note,” Hernández Galicia said in the release. “It’s also my way of saying thank you for so much … thank you for trusting me. Today, this song is a tribute, but it’s also an intimate confession — one that only he could feel, because he had never loved this much a melody, a story, a memory.”

In “Nunca Había Amado Así,” Juan Gabriel crafts an intimate confession that serves both as a declaration of love and as therapy. In the track, performed with the masterful voice that characterized him, the artist paints a portrait of male vulnerability, showing a man overcome by a feeling that overwhelms him entirely.

“My greatest dream is/ To always be just with you/ And if possible, see my dreams come true like this/ You are everything to me/ My greatest and sweetest love/ My endless secret, my tomorrow and my future,” he sings with dramatic fervor as the sound of violins and trumpets from the mariachi add even greater emotion to his performance.

“Nunca Había Amado Así” follows the first preview of Eterno, “Me Nace del Corazón,” released in early June. Both tracks are available on digital platforms.

Eterno is part of the exclusive global agreement among the artist’s son, Iván Aguilera, Virgin Music US Latin and Universal Music Publishing Group (UMPG). As previously reported by Billboard, the deal —signed in 2022 — includes the singer’s catalog post-2008 and future recordings, and has also extended its publishing administration agreement with Universal Music Publishing Group, which exclusively represents Juan Gabriel’s extraordinary catalog of songs worldwide.

The duets album Los Dúo 3 (2022) — his first posthumous release — and México con Escalas en Mi Corazón (2023) were previously published as part of the agreement.

Juan Gabriel, known for classics such as “Querida” and “Amor Eterno,” passed away on Aug. 28, 2016, at his home in Santa Monica, Calif., of natural causes. He was 66. Inducted into the Billboard Hall of Fame in 1996, he built a legacy over more than four decades as a multifaceted artist, recording songs in genres as diverse as ranchera, ballad, pop and bolero, and producing for other artists.

Among his many achievements, he sold over 150 million records, wrote more than 1,800 songs, released 34 studio albums, earned six Grammy nominations, won three posthumous Latin Grammys, and more than 20 of his hits reached the top 10 on the Billboard charts — including seven No. 1s on Hot Latin Songs. His track “Yo No Sé Qué Me Pasó” inaugurated the first edition of that ranking in 1986, debuting at No. 1.

Counting Crows frontman Adam Duritz doesn’t think he always got a fair shake from the music press. Around the time Counting Crows released its 2008 album Saturday Nights & Sunday Mornings, the band had gone through “about 10 years of just no good press,” says Duritz. “Everything was sort of dismissive. We’d become sort of a punch line.” 

Seeking friendlier voices, Duritz started speaking to blogs and independent outlets such as AbsolutePunk.net, places with independent writers who operated outside of the mainstream press. “There was a huge generation of songwriters that came up who were very, very influenced by us and not influenced by whoever is writing for Entertainment Weekly,” he says.

Eventually, Duritz took his storytelling to a new format: podcasts. They are in many ways an improvement on the typical interview, he explains, allowing listeners to get an unfiltered view of him and his career. “It’s not five minutes long. It’s not the same questions,” he says. Compared to quick radio spots or short press interviews, podcasts give him room to explore ideas with depth and give the audience insights into his personality.

One of Duritz’s most memorable podcasts was his three-hour interview with The Joe Rogan Experience in 2024. “I was floored by how good that interview was,” he says. Duritz admired Rogan’s preparation and curiosity. “The depth of research he has to do is incredible,” he adds. But Duritz also expressed mixed feelings about Rogan’s approach. He thinks Rogan’s openness to hosting different — and often controversial — viewpoints can sometimes amplify bad ideas. “By going along with it, it’s like putting a stamp of approval on it,” Duritz says.

Another standout podcast for Duritz was his appearance on Rick Beato’s YouTube show in March. Beato, a trained musician and accomplished producer before becoming a popular YouTuber, is passionate about the craft of music. Their conversation left a strong impression on Duritz, and the reactions from friends and listeners told him the appearance had struck a chord. “I’ve never gotten as many texts from my friends in music as I did after the talk with Rick,” he recalls.

Podcasts also give Duritz an opportunity to promote Counting Crows to a new audience. In June, Duritz was a guest on Mustache Tales, a podcast hosted by Jay Chandrasekhar of the comedy troupe Broken Lizard and actor-comedian Hayes MacArthur. Mustache Tales doesn’t have the audience of Rogan or Beato, but being on a show that typically hosts comedians allowed Duritz to reach an audience that may not otherwise be exposed to Counting Crows. “Finding someone new to discover you is not easy,” he insists. 

Now, Duritz’s podcast promotional tour takes him to Billboard’s Behind the Setlist podcast for a conversation about music and the music business. Duritz recalls the long searches for albums — the likes of Big Star, Fairport Convention and The Modern Lovers — before music became instantly accessible online. He explains why the band splits income evenly and how Counting Crows has always acted like an independent label. Duritz also talks about the band’s latest album, Butter Miracle, The Complete Sweets!, released in May through BMG.

Listen to the interview at the embedded Spotify player before, or go to Spotify, Apple Podcasts, Amazon Music, iHeart, Podbean or Everand.