Wu-Tang may be for the children, but Infinite Coles is for the gworls. 

Hailing from Staten Island, Infinite Coles represents the convergence between two of New York City’s most hallowed and dynamic cultural scenes: ballroom and hip-hop. The sounds of both worlds are inescapable across Sweetface Killah, Coles’ thrilling debut album, which recounts the enrapturing story of one of the most sidelined children of hip-hop royalty. 

A vocalist and rapper, Coles is the estranged son of Wu-Tang Clan legend Ghostface Killah. His uncle also happens to be RZA — who he says has “always been a big supporter” — which means the blood of indisputable hip-hop icons courses through his veins. Growing up in a house exclusively soundtracked by hardcore hip-hop and classic R&B and soul, Coles gravitated towards women like Brandy, Whitney Houston and Toni Braxton.  

“I didn’t resonate with the men,” he recalls. “And there was a lot of “[F-slur]” talk in Wu-Tang, so I felt uncomfortable. I knew who I was from the beginning of time, and my family threw it out there early in my life that being gay was bad.” 

As Coles grew into himself and his sexuality, he connected with Mela Murder, a former Major Lazer back-up dancer, who got him off Staten Island and introduced him to the euphoric worlds of ballroom and house music. Coles and his father have been estranged for well over a decade now, but, in that distance, the rising star followed the music. Aly-Us’ classic 1992 house hit “Follow Me” served as Coles’ entry point into the genre, setting the scene for the splashes of ballroom-steeped house elements that appear across Sweetface Killah on songs like “Boots” and “DMs.” 

An untraditional “nepo baby,” given his fractured relationship with his father, Coles has been making industry inroads for a decade. “My brothers had all of that,” he says of the opportunity to work with his superstar father in the recording studio. “I didn’t get invited to sessions or anything like that at all.” (Ghostface Killah declined comment for this article.)

In 2015, Coles starred in Clayton Vomero’s Gang short film, and by 2018, he featured on three songs on Everything Is Recorded, the debut studio album from XL Recordings co-founder Richard Russell. It was during the pandemic, however, that Coles zeroed in on the concept of Sweetface Killah, alongside close friend and executive producer Zach Witness. Together, the duo blended Coles’ idiosyncratic swagger, musical fearlessness and sharp storytelling skills into a resoundingly confident debut album. 

Ahead of the London launch performance for Sweetface Killah (Dec. 5), Infinite Coles stepped out of the steam room to chat with Billboard about coming into his artistry, hopping in the booth with Ferg and challenging antiquated hip-hop norms.

How has ballroom influenced your approach to music, particularly the hip hop space? 

I now understand that I have my community, who will understand my story. Before, I would try to write for everybody, like, “Oh, I want straight men to listen to my music.” But I’ve realized not everybody’s gonna like me — and that’s okay. I know where I’ll be liked for sure, and that’s my community. 

From a musical standpoint, what do you bring from the ballroom world into your own music? 

There’s the “hitika, hitika, hitika” sound that I like to add, as well as the dip beats. You’ll hear those in “DMs,” “Sweetface Killah,” “Thankful” and “Boots.” I also pull from commentary from people like Kevin Jz Prodigy and Snookie Lanore. There’s also other girls coming out and giving vocals while they’re commentating. I feel like everyone is taking our lingo already, so they might as well listen to the music, too. I’m so inspired by the strength of my people and my community. It’s not easy at all, especially dealing with family that don’t want you or disown you. 

DJs are also my inspiration now. I love going to a function and the DJ is mixing Aretha Franklin’s vocals with some bad Afro-house beat. I’m like, “Oh s—t, I could pull that off — and no one’s gonna know because you only did it here!” [Laughs.] 

When did you first start to feel a project coming together? When did you know that Sweetface Killah was finished? 

I knew it was coming together when I finally felt my writing getting better. I lived in a shelter for a year during COVID. I released an EP around that time [2021’s Destiny], but it was just scraps I put together to get some quick coin. After that, I finally got my own place, and it felt so different. I could say whatever I wanted to say, I could scream without my mom or sister telling me to shut the f—k up, and I could blast my music and really get into myself. And that’s when “Boots” came. 

My friend Zach Witness was staying with me for a few weeks, and while he was making the beat for “Boots,” I was like, “I want to be animated on some Nicki [Minaj] s—t.” I demoed it for him, and he was like, “Keep going, that’s the vibe!” Being in my own house in my own space and creating my own energy allowed me to tap into different characters. Now, I’m rapping, which I always wanted to do but never even gave it a try. 

I knew the project was finished when I started comparing my friends’ reactions to my first EP versus the new music. They love my first EP, and they’re not going to tell me nothing bad, but I can feel when they’re like, “Oh, you ate that.” They be begging me to play new music at parties! [Laughs.] 

Are you nervous about sharing this project with the world? 

The nerves come from an expectation. I’m the only gay one out of my family. My brothers had a chance to be in the studio with my dad and be on an album. I was always the one who was not invited.  

And not to toot my own horn, but I’m the best one out of all of us. My brothers love me, but I feel like they never stepped up like, “We should bring Inf around.” They didn’t have to, but it would have been nice. They all knew that I could sing, but “Sweetface Killah” came out as a rap song, and they were gagged. I’ve surpassed a couple of levels when it comes to them, and it’s no shade at all. I was the underdog, and I was sick of it.  

I’m also nervous because of my dad still — especially because the blogs love to make “Sweetface Killah” seem like a diss record, or that I’m being disrespectful. 

Walk me through writing and recording “Dad & I.” 

It took me two or three years to finish writing “Dad and I.” I wrote the first half when Zach was at my house, and the other half got finished a year later because I needed to complete this project. Sometimes I have to step away from things to really get out what I’m trying to say. 

In 2023, I aired my father out — I don’t like saying it that way because that wasn’t my intention, but I guess that’s what the hell I did. I had to tell my truth because I was going through something very deep and crazy with my family, and I felt like he was the only one who could save us. He has the resources and the money to help not even me, but my sister and her daughter. It gave he really don’t care about anything, not even the women in his family. It’s not just about me being gay, he doesn’t know how to be a father. I did all of that, and nothing happened, so I wrote a song about it. 

I’m not a disrespectful person, unless I feel disrespected. But I will always speak my truth and my mind. “Dad & I” is really one of my best-written songs and some of the best storytelling I’ve ever done. Luther Vandross’ “Dance with My Father” was a big inspiration. I actually showed my Uncle RZA from Wu-Tang that song a while ago, and he had me replay it three times. And that was before the second verse was done.

Did you get a chance to play the full project for him at all? 

I did send him the full project, but in person, I played a couple of songs. I didn’t show him “Sweetface Killah” or “DMs” because I thought he’d be like, “Oh, you’re too feminine.” I still have my insecurities. But apparently, he loves “Boots” and plays it all the time in the house, so I’m like, “I should’ve just shown you ‘DMs’ then!” [Laughs.] I love my Uncle RZA so much, he’s f—king amazing. My first studio session was with him. 

What was that like? 

We was living in [New] Jersey at the Wu-Tang House, which has been there since 1994. He still has that house. It was just the family house at the time; we had [spent the holidays] there. Uncle RZA used to call us downstairs to watch him make beats or give him vocals. At the time, he was working on [2000’s] Afro Samurai Resurrection soundtrack, and he wanted me on it. I had to do a song with him called “Brother’s Keeper”; I was around 12-13. He also wrote a song called “Student of Love” for me, but it didn’t go anywhere.  

“Brother’s Keeper” did end up being on the soundtrack, and I appreciated him so much after that. I was still very insecure, and in the closet, so after I sung my bit, I probably went upstairs with cousins like, “Alright girl, I’m glad I left because I was nervous!” 

Who do you consider your musical peers? 

I don’t feel like anyone is going to be able to do what I’m doing or give what I’m about to give and going to give in the future. I don’t really listen to a lot of people because I feel like everyone talks about the same thing. No one makes me feel anything. 

I love Doechii; [she and I] would be a great collaboration. I love Chika. I love Tierra Whack and Destin Conrad. Everybody’s feening to be fab and a bad b—h, and they’re forgetting to tap into real life and real emotions and tell a story. I think that’s what’s missing from music in my community. 

Since you started rolling out the project, has your father reached out at all? 

No. And he doesn’t have to. I didn’t do any of this for him to reach out. I am ready for my time to shine. I am ready for my light to beam. I’m ready for the world to see me for my authentic self. I’m not trying to hide who I am. Dumbing myself down and dimming my light for everybody else to live is done; it’s done no good for me at all besides making me depressed and left behind. 

He doesn’t have to hit me up. It would be nice if he did, and in that case, I would totally be receptive and would love to have a conversation. I wish he would realize that if he did hit me up, it would change a lot. Three straight boys came up to me in the city the other day, and they recognized me and said, “If you and your dad did a conversation together, it’ll change the way hip-hop is for real; he is part of your key to help you open that door for everybody to have a moment to shine.” It don’t matter if you’re red, blue, white, black, gay, straight, trans — it’s hip-hop. Let’s accept everybody because that’s the only way it’s gonna change. Things need to elevate. 

But I’m just excited to celebrate. I know that I can have that No. 1 song on Billboard. I know that I can win that Grammy at some point. And I’m so excited for my next album, it’s going to be even better. I was just in the studio with [A$AP] Ferg.  

Wait what? 

I’m still trying to get this verse together! I told him I had to take the beat home because I’m nervous and new to this. I went home, had my lil blunt, and felt like Eminem and Busta Rhymes. Ferg told me he wanted that “Sweetface Killah” energy, so I had to tap into a certain space, which meant leaving his studio for a bit. I was really with Ferg — and it’s possible with me being this feminine entity! He didn’t give a f—k about nothing, he just wanted to work with me because he loved my visuals and my sound and what I’m doing. 

I say thank you to God every single day. It’s crazy when you want something, and you dream about it, and then you really feel and see it happening. And I just knew it was going to happen with this album.

New Music Latin is a compilation of the best new Latin songs and albums recommended by Billboard and Billboard Español editors. Check out this week’s picks below.

Ozuna, Beéle, Stendhal (Nibiru International/Sony Music Latin)

Two weeks ago, Ozuna and Beéle presented their first collaborative effort, “Enemigos”— but never did fans expect 13 other songs together would follow. The Afro-house track about a forbidden desire, which samples Aventura’s “Los Infieles,” marked the first taste of the Puerto Rican and Colombian artists’ joint album Stendhal. The 14-track production, produced by Colombian hitmaker Ovy on the Drums and others, is rooted in the Afrolatino fusion with other global genres such as reggaetón, kizomba, electronic, and dembow.

Tracks such as “Pikito,” “El Volcán,” “Cookie,” and “Explícito” evoke sensual and provocative emotions. In others, they pay homage to timeless Latin tunes: “Ale” is inspired by Fernando Villalona’s “Carnaval (Baile en la Calle)”;  “Te Culié” by Las Ketchup’s “Asereje”; and “Antes de Irme” by Xuxa’s “Ilaríe.” The album’s name, Stendhal, is inspired by Stendhal Syndrome, where the art of great beauty profoundly impacts the senses and perception. — JESSICA ROIZ

Juanes, Bomba Estéreo, “Muérdeme” (Universal Music Latino)

Juanes’ rock guitars and Bomba Estéreo’s electro-tropical sound merge to create a flavorful, sensual retro cumbia in “Muérdeme,” the third single from the Colombian superstar’s upcoming album. Co-produced by Juanes and Nico Cotton, and written by Juanes, Bomba Estéreo’s Li Saumet, Gale and Emmanuel Briceño, the song speaks of rekindling passion in a relationship. “Bite me/ Come with your kisses, hold me/ Don’t think about it, stay/ Here in my arms, entwined, you and I,” goes the chorus. Juanes and Saumet’s unmistakable voices create vibrant harmonies, with the Bomba Estéreo vocalist delivering a couple of spoken verses that add dynamism to the arrangement. — SIGAL RATNER-ARIAS

Adriel Favela, Gabito Ballesteros, “AFTERLIFE” (FONO)

Adriel Favela has gone from being a leading figure in corridos for the new generation to being part of the movement itself. His versatility has allowed him to successfully navigate even ranchera music. In “Afterlife,” he embraces the corridos tumbados style with all that it entails: the electric guitar in the intro giving way to trumpets, charchetas, and tololoche — essential instruments of the genre — in addition to acoustic guitar. His voice is joined by that of one of the biggest stars of the moment, Gabito Ballesteros — who, true to his interpretive style, lends a certain rawness to the explicit lyrics, which narrate an atmosphere of extreme partying, luxurious nightlife, and exclusive venues. This same hedonistic scene is showcased in the music video, filmed in natural settings in Sonora, the birthplace of both singers, and a dark location that adds to the drama. — TERE AGUILERA

Jenni Rivera, La Gran Señora (Banda) (Virgin Music Group

Jenni Rivera’s legendary 2009 album gets a thunderous update in La Gran Señora (Banda), where her iconic mariachi hits swap strings for brass and tamborazo-driven banda arrangements. Sixteen years after its original release, the tracks still pack a punch, now with enhanced production by Latin Grammy winner Luciano Luna (Banda El Recodo, Grupo Firme) and the gut-wrenching grit of Rivera’s enduring vocals. Intro song “Yo Soy Una Mujer” explodes with brass horns and a dynamic rhythm section — which also includes previously unreleased audio recorded in 2008 — while the title track unleashes fast-driving drumbeats beneath her fiery declarations: “Se necesita más que una cara bonita.” Even “Amarga Navidad” trades ranchera melancholy for a piercing trumpets, highlighting Rivera’s unmatched vocal prowess. Guided by the creative direction of her son Johnny López, this reimagining celebrates the eternal Diva de la Banda with force and heart. — ISABELA RAYGOZA

Caloncho, “Fairy Michelle” (Universal Music México)

The Mexican singer-songwriter infuses joy and good vibes into this new track, overflowing with emotion for his loved one, set to a cumbia and reggae rhythm. It’s the second single from his upcoming album, slated for release in 2026, and maintains the emotional tone that reflects Caloncho’s current happiness with his wife. “Fairy Michelle” also marks the artist’s introduction to a humorous and conceptual world, embodied not only in the song but also in the music video, which portrays him as a Neandercal (a play on words combining his name and the term Neanderthal), a primitive man who travels through time and arrives in the modern world bewildered by its rules, including those of love. — NATALIA CANO

Banda Los Sebastianes, Rancheras Pa’ La Parranda (En Vivo) (FONO)

With all the power of Sinaloan banda sound, including trumpets, snare drums, clarinets, and of course the tuba, this is an album that’s sure to be enjoyed from beginning to end as the holiday season approaches. Recorded in the genre’s mecca, Mazatlán, Mexico, this live production includes songs for every mood, from traditional tunes like “El Son de los Aguacates” and “El Gavilancillo,” to heartbreak in the focus track “El Amor No Se Vende,” and tributes to regional Mexican music greats like Lorenzo de Monteclaro and Invasores de Nuevo León. With a total of 12 tracks, all with their respective music videos, Rancheras Pa’ la Parranda (En Vivo) is an excellent way for Banda Los Sebastianes to close out the year, after dedicating 2025 to an extensive tour of the U.S.  — T.A.

Julieta Venegas, “Tiempos dorados” (Altafonte/Lolein Music)

The Mexican singer-songwriter embraces her northern roots in the first single from her new album slated for 2026, celebrating the nostalgia of the past and the beauty of the present with a rhythm of wind instruments and requintos in the sierreño style, achieving a contemporary sound that keeps alive the melodic essence that characterizes her. “Let the golden times return/ The sweet futures we dreamed of so much/ Let the mystery and the boredom return/ The not knowing anything, the not knowing anything,” Venegas sings in one of the song’s verses, whose lyrics she co-wrote with El David Aguilar and Lara Artesi.

With its northern sound and lyrics, the track is reminiscent at times of “El presente,” a classic in her repertoire. In another verse, she even alludes to Baudelaire and his collection of poems, Les Fleurs du Mal (The Flowers of Evil). “Tiempos dorados” (Golden Times) is an invitation to reflect on the passage of time, while the music permeates her border roots between Mexico and California. — N.C.

Check out more Latin recommendations this week below:

Jessie J and Kate Middleton live very different lives, but at the Royal Variety Performance in London in November, the two women were able to bond over their shared experiences with cancer and motherhood.

And in an interview with Good Morning America that aired Friday (Dec. 5), the British singer-songwriter revealed what exactly she and the Princess of Wales discussed when they came face to face at the event. “She just said, ‘Thank you, I know you’ve gone through a tough time,’” Jessie recalled. “I said, ‘I know you have too.’”

The vocalist went on to tell Middleton, “Mum to mum, cancer survivor to cancer survivor, I see you, and I feel you. Can I give you a hug?’ She said, ‘Of course you can.’”

The interview comes about six months after Jessie — who shares a young son with partner Chanan Safir Colman — publicly shared that she’d been diagnosed with breast cancer. She underwent surgery in June, weeks after which she returned to the hospital with symptoms that turned out to be the result of an infection.

In July, she discovered that her cancer had not spread, which she shared in an emotional message to fans. She did, however, have to postpone her tour that was scheduled for this fall due after learning she’d need a second surgery.

“I know there’s a chance it could come back, but until then, we’re living life,” Jessie updated GMA on Friday.

If anyone understands the pressures of fighting cancer while being a mom in the public eye, it’s Middleton, who announced in March 2024 that she was undergoing treatment for an undisclosed form of cancer. Six months later, the princess revealed that she had completed chemotherapy, after which she entered remission.

Despite being “briefed” not to hug Middleton at the Royal Variety Performance, Jessie J told British talk show This Morning earlier this week that she couldn’t help herself. “I just saw a mom that has also gone through cancer publicly, and I just wanted to give her a hug,” she explained. “It was as simple as that. I didn’t see her as the Princess of Wales, I mean obviously I did, and I was respectful … I said to her, ‘Can I give you a hug?’ and she received it.”

She added at the time, “I just wanted to give her a hug — mom to mom, human to human.”

“People from West Texas don’t have a filter as much as other people,” says Treaty Oak Revival’s lead singer and primary songwriter Sam Canty. “They’ll tell you straight up how it is, and they’re not afraid to tell it to you in a nasty way if they have to.”

That same can be said of Treaty Oak Revival’s music, which is driving, raw and brutally real, especially on new, self-released album, West Texas Degenerate, which came out Nov. 28. The quintet, which also includes electric guitarists Lance Vanley and his uncle Jeremiah Vanley, drummer Cody Holloway and bassist Dakota Hernandez (who recently replaced original bassist Andrew Carey), formed in Odessa, Texas and their country/rock hybrid reflects the often liquor-and -drug-soaked desperation from the tough circumstances of growing up in harsh oil-drilling country.  

“I mean, if you look around the place, it’s pretty clear to see it’s not the easiest living. It’s a hard place to live. The climate isn’t very forgiving,” Canty says of West Texas and its blue-collar denizens. “There’s a lot of lot of good, hard-working people out there, and they love to cut loose on the weekends and after work, and get a little rowdy.”

The album title comes from a writer who wrote that all of TOR’s fans are “just a bunch of degenerate alcoholics or something like that,” Canty says. Instead of taking umbrage, Canty realized he and friends were already using the term to affectionately refer to buddies. “I already had a song that I was wanting to write called ‘West Texas Degenerate’ and was like, ‘Hey, actually, I have a song I’m writing that kid of backs up your point there, buddy.’”

Recorded over four days, the album captures the rambunctiousness of the quintet’s revered live shows but also shows a new depth and maturity. With song titles like the title track, “Sh-t Hill,” “Withdrawals,” and “Dosin,” there is a generous array of tunes about squalor, overindulging and paying the price, and destitution, but also songs about love, both good (“Sunflowers”) and bad (“Misery,” a pop-tinged, catchy collaboration with Muscadine Bloodline).

Canty wrote “Sunflowers” as a wedding present to his wife. “I was very hesitant about putting that out, because I wrote that song just for her. I wasn’t sure about sharing that with the rest of the world, because then it becomes everyone’s song,” he says, but his wife convinced him that releasing it wouldn’t diminish the specialness of the song.

Plus, he says, TOR’s band members are in their 30s now and most have families, including Canty who has a 20-month-old son, so it felt appropriate to expand their material. “I think it would be dumb if we never wrote a song about love,” Canty says. “I think [‘Sunflower’] will probably resonate with a lot more people because it’s not a song about perfect love. It’s a song about loving somebody for everything that they are, even if those things can be bad sometimes.”

That description could apply to Canty before he got sober three years ago. “It’s just made my life — and everybody else’s life, I’m sure — a hell of a lot easier,” he says of abstinence. “It makes for a better show. It makes me a better person, and I know my wife and my family and my friends all appreciate it. I’m very thankful that I’m not in that same place that I used to be.”

Like many artists before they get sober, Canty worried about how not drinking would affect his songwriting, but “here I am two albums deep being sober and for the most part, I think we’re doing just fine. I think it’s clear that no matter if I’m sober, drunk, have a kid or don’t have a kid, I’m always just gonna write how I write.”

TOR’s songs, no matter how personal they often start out, have resonated with fans in a way that touches the band deeply, including platinum single “Ode to Bourbon,” from the group’s debut album, 2021’s No Vacancy.

“It was originally kind of a song about liking drinking, and then a buddy of ours passed away and I made it into something different,” Canty says. “A lot of people quit drinking because of that song and a lot of people, [it] prevented them from taking their own lives, in some cases. That’s a pretty meaningful thing to hear as a songwriter. It’s a hell of a thing to live with.”

The goal of the band “is to make people feel something of that magnitude” with its music, Canty says. “I think that should probably be really everyone’s goal who tries to do music or art in any form. I love that [our fans] are healing through the music. It means a lot.”

Treaty Oak Revival, which officially formed in 2019, has been on a steep rise, steadily building their audience both for streaming (more than 2.24 billion on-demand streams in the U.S. alone, according to Luminate) and live shows, rising to arena headliners. Today (Dec. 5), the band announced a 25-city arena and amphitheater tour that starts Feb. 5 at DCU Center in Worcester, Mass., and includes its own headlining show at Red Rocks Amphitheater outside of Denver.

Fans have also discovered the band from placement of its music on Landman, Taylor Sheridan’s gritty Paramount + series starring Billy Bob Thornton about oil drilling in West Texas. It’s a natural fit and now the band is hoping for a guest slot. “I think it’d be awesome if they showed us playing at some crappy bar, some dive bar,” Canty says. “We would love to be a part of that. I know we pitched the idea to them, and they said they would get back to us.”

Along the way, they have drawn the attention of major labels eager to expand on their large fan base and roughhewn sound.

That excitement led to a brief alignment with Interscope Records for several months before returning to independence. After meeting with a number of record companies, TOR began working with the label by having it distribute acoustic album The Talco Tapes, which came out in May, and new single, “Bad State of Mind” — which became the band’s highest charting song, reaching No. 10 on Billboard’s Hot Rock & Alternative Songs and No. 19 on Hot Country Songs.

“We liked what they had to offer. We liked the team,” Canty says of Interscope. “So we gave them a project to distribute… ‘Bad State of Mine’ did really well. The Talco Tapes did not really do as well as we thought they would, and that was kind of the main thing that we were going to gauge whether or not we wanted to move any further working with them.”

Ultimately, the band decided it would remain on its own, but Canty stresses of Interscope, “They’re great people. I know they’re good at what they do. They wouldn’t be where they’re at if they weren’t. But I think just the way we operate, it made more sense to be on our own… No hard feelings.” (Interscope did not respond to a request for comment.)

Among the band’s goals are to expand its international audience, which started with a jaunt to Australia earlier this fall, playing down under before it had even toured as far southeast as Florida in the U.S. — a state the band hit for the first time in November.

“We’re just some boys from West Texas. We didn’t think we ever had any right to be over there in Australia, but we were,” Canty says. “We were super-stoked when we got the opportunity to do so. We were able to go to a place on the other side of the world and sell over 10,000 tickets. It’s insane. We’re really proud that we’ve come this far.”