Pharrell has addressed the recent backlash he’s been getting over comments about politics and diversity he made last month at the 5th annual Black Ambition Demo Day where he said that he hated politics because they force people to pick a side and ultimately create division.

“I hate politics,” he said. “Like, despise them. It’s a magic trick. It’s not real. I don’t believe in either side. Because I think when you pick a side, you are inadvertently supporting division.” He then brought up diversity, equity and inclusion and said you should support businesses not because of skin color, but because they’re the best. “Now diversity is off the table, equity’s off the table, now inclusion’s off the table,” he began. “So, that makes me…I asked myself, ‘Okay, how do we survive?’ Well, are there Black people here tonight? And in your heart, do you think for what it is that you do, do you think you’re the best? Do you want the job because you’re Black or because you’re the best? Do you want someone to support your startup because you’re Black or because you’re the best?”

After receiving the Shoe of the Year award for his Virginia Adistar Jellyfish collab with Adidas at the Footwear News Achievement Awards recently, the Men’s Creative Director for Louis Vuitton decided to dedicate his speech to address to criticism he’s been getting online. “Sound bite this: since most people don’t like to read or do research anymore,” he began. “Sound bite this: God is the greatest. Sound bite this: I’m from Virginia. Sound bite this: You don’t know what I know. You ain’t seen what I saw. No, you ain’t been where I go. I’m from the mud. As a child, nobody’s been evicted more times than me, lights turned off, water turned off, and at times, had to pump the water.”

He then referred to himself as a lumpenproletariat which, in Marxist theory, defines a class of individuals that are apathetic to class consciousness and revolutionary advancement. “Sound bite this: Don’t be fooled by my bourgeois taste and heart. I’m proletariat,” he continued. “In fact, I’m lumpenproletariat. Sound bite this: I had to stay on my feet. Sound bite this: But I could never walk in the shoes of my parents’ parents’ parents, etc. All they had to endure while staying on their feet. Or my ancestors, who arrived as captives, enslaved, who had no shoes yet had to stay on their feet as they landed on the shores of Virginia. As Black and Brown people on this earth, we have to stay on our feet. We have never had a choice. Sound bite this: we’ve needed empathy for someone to walk in ours shows.”

Adding, “That’s why sound bite this: we created ‘Black Ambition,’ a philanthropic effort to support, resource, and mentor Black and Brown startups. Sound bite this: we have allocated $85 million dollars to Black and Brown startups. Sound bite this: that’s where the soundbite of me saying I hate politics, which was in response to the DEI support and donations drying up because of new policies. So yes, I got frustrated, and the sound biters, they caught me lacking. But sound bite this: I will never stop fighting. I will never stop raising money to help level the playing field. Never.”

Pharrell has been outspoken about politics in his own way. Last November, he told The Hollywood Reporter that tends to take a neutral approach and compared his stance to that of a federal employee. “This is what they do, come rain or shine, whether it’s a Democrat or a Republican in office, you show up to work every day, you serve your country,” he said. In the same interview, he also admitted to being annoyed by celebrity endorsements. “I don’t do politics. In fact, I get annoyed sometimes when I see celebrities trying to tell you [who to vote for],” he said. “There are celebrities that I respect that have an opinion, but not all of them. I’m one of them people [who says], “What the heck? Shut up. Nobody asked you.’”

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: