Last November, when Carín León announced a series of shows at the Sphere in Las Vegas — a coveted venue where he is set to become the first Latin artist to headline — the regional Mexican singer-songwriter and his manager, Jorge Juárez, finally unveiled a secret that had been kept under wraps for a year, and an idea that had started even earlier. 
 
“We thought of it three years before we announced it,” Juárez says. “We said, ‘Okay, maybe we won’t be ready next year, but in two years we definitely will be.’”  
 
Thinking and planning ahead has been a strategy and a mindset that has proved successful for the power duo. Since signing with Juárez in December 2022 — and becoming his business partner in the Socios Music indie label — León has become one of the biggest Latin stars of his generation. In 2023, he landed on Billboard’s 10 highest-grossing Latin tours list with his Colmillo de Leche Tour and also was one of Billboard’s Top Latin Artists on the year-end charts. In 2024, León and Juárez signed a joint global deal with Virgin Music Group and Island Records, through which both companies distribute and market León’s product under Socios Music. 

Among other milestones, the uber-versatile León — known for seamlessly blending música mexicana with any genre, from country and blues to salsa and reggaetón — has won four Latin Grammy and two Grammy Awards; debuted at Nashville’s iconic Grand Ole Opry; played festivals including Coachella and Stagecoach; and opened for the Rolling Stones in Glendale, Ariz. 
 
Ahead of his seven sold-out shows at the Sphere this September, León held his own music festival this spring in his native Hermosillo, Sonora, called La Cura Fest, with an eclectic lineup including Midland, Alejandro Sanz, Kany García and Grupo Frontera, and an attendance of 70,000 people over two days, according to the local government. He also embarked on his North America Tour 2026 on May 20 and is set to play for the first time in Japan, at the Summer Sonic Festival, in August.   
 
“Reaching these goals is like building a skyscraper: you can’t put 20 stories on a building if you don’t lay a solid foundation,” Juárez says. “So, we have very clear objectives; we are planning two to four years ahead in Carín’s career — mapping out which collaborations, venues and festivals to pursue, which countries to conquer, and how to take Mexican music to the world.” 

Juárez’s scope, however, goes beyond his work with León. As CEO of Westwood Entertainment — the management and booking company he founded in Mexico in 2000 with David West — he manages a wide array of mostly Mexican pop acts, including Carlos Rivera, Reik and Camila. Through Westwood’s concert promotion division, he has also promoted large-scale shows in Mexico, including by Karol G and Bad Bunny, as well as tours for artists such as Sin Bandera, Reik and Rivera across the United States and Latin America — something he continues to do through his company Enso Music. 
 
“The connection I’ve shared with Jorge Juárez is incredibly important,” León says. “When a manager stops focusing solely on the money and the accolades and begins to think a bit more empathetically — even prioritizing the music itself and weighing in on opinions and production from a place of true expertise — that is when I truly grasp just how vital a manager’s support and connection are to your project.” 
 
Jesús Navarro from Mexican pop band Reik adds: “I believe we have grown together — first learning to adapt to what existed, and now learning to leverage this ever-changing industry and all the opportunities it presents. I am very proud of him and grateful for his support and companionship on this journey.” 
 
Juárez expands on his achievements of the last year, his strategy with León and why the Mexican star is exactly where he’s supposed to be.

In the last few years, you have had major milestones with Carín León, but the Sphere shows feel truly historic. What does this mean to you? 
 
It is something that very few artists manage to achieve — let alone Latin artists — because the Sphere has a limited number of available dates, and there are many iconic artists worldwide who could potentially perform there. The most difficult part is securing the dates. Secondly, getting approval for the actual content you intend to present there; you simply cannot go in and put on a show that falls short of the standard set by acts like the Backstreet Boys or Phish. Then there are the logistics and the costs involved, because every time you perform the show, you have to completely dismantle the entire production to make way for film screenings. 
 
We have actually been working on the production and the visuals for a full year now. This isn’t the kind of show you can just set up quickly and perform; it is a truly unique undertaking. It is going to be an impressive spectacle — a production worthy of immense pride, representing not just a Latin artist, but any artist performing at that venue. To be honest, we are incredibly excited about it. We feel that this will mark a major turning point in Carín’s career. For me, this is a significant cultural moment: Carín becoming the first Spanish-speaking artist to perform at what is currently the most challenging venue in the world to book — securing that space and bringing this specific production to life. From this point forward, a new phase begins for Carín. 
 
When did you say, “We want the Sphere,” and how did you make it happen? 
 
Three years before we announced it. We had already reached the necessary ticket sales volume, secured the collaborations and performed at both Coachella and Stagecoach in the same year [2024]. We felt it was the perfect opportunity to transform the audience experience. Carín and I discussed a concept I firmly believe in: that nowadays, people have grown tired of simply buying tickets to attend a show; what they really want is an experience. We believe a Las Vegas residency offers an experience that fans won’t soon forget — and not just because of the show itself. The experience actually begins 100 days before the concerts, during which we’ll gradually roll out details: how people should dress, which songs he’s going to perform, challenges we’ll be hosting, and more. 
 
The Sphere is a venue where securing dates is somewhat tricky due to the high demand; consequently, I assembled a team of professionals from within the American industry — people who have supported me throughout my global touring endeavors. I enlisted the help of Rich Schaefer, president of touring at AEG Presents; my legal counsel — one attorney specializing in the U.S. market and another in the Latin American sector — as well as a designer renowned for creating massive-scale productions. I wanted to arrive backed by a fully prepared team to present my proposal. We developed a comprehensive project showcasing exactly how Carín would look and perform inside the Sphere, a video presentation accompanied by a storyboard detailing every aspect of our planned production. But it wasn’t just about the visuals; we devised an entire strategic plan — one outlining the specific setlist we would perform there, and another detailing exactly how we would launch the Sphere announcement to the public, as we were determined to avoid doing what everyone else does. 
 
We presented our proposal; they congratulated us and informed us, “It’s not possible next year, but we can make it happen two years from now.” At that moment, we said to ourselves, “Perfect. We did it.” And for an entire year, we kept that secret completely under wraps. 
 
How did you reframe the strategy for Carín once you booked Sphere? 
 
We stopped touring in the U.S. and began undertaking a data-driven effort that few others attempt: a study to determine how many people across Nevada, California, Arizona — the key markets surrounding Las Vegas — had previously attended a Carín concert. We discovered that the number stood at 80,000. Our initial concept called for just three dates at Sphere. Consequently, we leveraged our data to craft a communication strategy targeting all of Carín’s fans for the announcement, but we didn’t stop there. I wanted to make a monumental announcement — one that would resonate across the entire globe. 

We have numerous partners in various countries who serve as our local promoters. I executed an NDA with each of them and told them, “In one week, I am going to unveil Carín’s Sphere engagement. I need each of you to join in by submitting a plan within three days so that every country can make the announcement simultaneously.” Everyone got on board — [in addition to Mexico], Chile, Argentina, Colombia, the Dominican Republic, Peru, Central America, the U.S. and Spain. 
 
The announcement was so impactful that when we went on sale, we received 500,000 requests to purchase tickets. Based on that, we made the decision to add four more dates — all of which are now completely sold out — and we won’t be adding any dates beyond those initial seven for this leg of the tour. It’s not that we don’t want to add more — it’s simply that we want to preserve that special feeling: ensuring that the people who bought early enjoyed the exclusive benefit of securing their tickets right from the start and getting to experience the whole journey. 
 
You also run your management company, Westwood Entertainment. How do you balance that with Socios and Carín’s career? 
 
Ultimately, everything stems from a single core principle: building careers grounded in purpose, authenticity and a long-term vision. With Westwood Entertainment, we worked closely on the artistic and strategic development of talents such as Carlos Rivera, Reik, Sin Bandera and Camila. Meanwhile, with Socios Music, we have created a much broader platform that integrates management, publishing, strategy and global expansion. 
 
Rather than viewing my time as divided between different companies or artists, I see them as complementary ecosystems — supported by a great team that brings together experience, relationships and vision to continue elevating Latin music on a global stage. 
 
You mentioned that you and Carín are always thinking years ahead, planning for the future. Is Carín where you expected him to be at this stage? 
 
He is exactly where we believed he needed to be. In other words, every step — the entire strategy — has worked. And one of the things I’ve observed is that, for a strategy to succeed, two things are essential: First, your leader — the artist — must be fully aligned with the strategy and motivated. Second, you need a team — because it’s not just me working alone, I have a great team and we are absolutely convinced that Carín is the greatest Mexican artist out there today. And finally, I have a team that works 24/7 that gets fired up and that, quite simply, never runs out of ideas. 
 
And Carín and I share a special bond. I’ll wake up with an idea, give him a call and he’ll say, “That’s absolutely wild — let’s do it!” I mean, it’s never, “Nah, what a hassle,” or “Sorry, I can’t, I’ve got so-and-so’s First Communion.” For him, music comes first. It is, without a doubt, the greatest love of his life. 

There comes a moment in most Tucker Wetmore shows — between performing lively hits like “Proving Me Right” and “3,2,1” — when the Washington state-born country artist sits down at a piano and leads the crowd through a medley of classics, from Beethoven to Jerry Lee Lewis’ “Great Balls of Fire.”

“I’m an old cat. I’m an old soul,” the 26-year-old says. “I like ’60s, ’70s, ’80s music, early-’90s stuff.” Wetmore grew up listening to the Eagles, Hall & Oates, Queen, Van Morrison, Elton John, Billy Joel and Atlanta Rhythm Section, and at 11 taught himself how to play piano. His path to a life in music didn’t quite start then and there — a college football career intervened, until an injury cut it short — but watching Wetmore on the keys today, his destiny, and, now, chief mission as an artist is clear: to connect and entertain.

“I like the thought of people getting together for one sole reason: for the same love of the music,” he says. “And I personally take responsibility for that. It’s my job to make sure they have a night that they’re going to talk about two, five, 10 years down the road. That’s what I tell my guys before every show … Every night I get onstage, I’m going to give them the best time I possibly can give them.”

Wetmore landed on the country scene in 2024 with his Billboard Hot 100 breakthrough, “Wine Into Whiskey.” His debut album, What Not To (Back Blocks/MCA/Mercury), reached the top 15 on the all-genre Billboard 200 last year and yielded a trio of Country Airplay top three hits: “Wind Up Missin’ You,” “3,2,1” and “Brunette,” a fast-paced, energetic track that Wetmore says he “immediately believed” in — and that just became his first Country Airplay No. 1.

“It was like a week of it being out; I played a show and people went crazy, jumping up and down, waving their hands in the air,” he recalls. “I was like, ‘You can’t really deny that.’ It proved itself live time and time again and it still does.” The song’s rapid-fire lyrics remind him of childhood moments spent riding in the car with Eminem on repeat, trying to keep up with the rapper’s bars. “I feel like ‘Brunette’ is one of those songs where it’s so fast and high-energy, you can’t really help but try to learn all the words.”

Onstage and online, it’s not uncommon to see Wetmore talking candidly to his audience, gyrating and shaking his hips to the music, or unabashedly showing off the results of his workout regimen — usually from the waist up, though a recent shot he posted of his bare backside also made the rounds on social media, to much ribbing from his tourmate Dasha, among others.

“I feel like if you can’t get onstage and be exactly who you are, then you’re not doing you justice,” the self-professed “goofball” says of his antics. “Somebody who I think does a great job of it is Luke Bryan. He will get up there and say whatever crosses his mind and people love it. If you’re just authentically yourself, it’s going to resonate with the majority of the crowd, because they leave there saying, ‘He’s just a normal dude.’ And that’s all I am — I’m a normal dude and I like to make music and shake my little tail feather onstage every night.”

He might be carefree onstage, but Wetmore is serious about building a global fanbase. His current The Brunette World Tour has already staged legs in the United States, the United Kingdom and Europe and is now back in America for more shows through the fall; he recently carved out some studio time in Switzerland, another step toward his goal of “distill[ing] a worldwide sound in a small-town genre.”

That expansive outlook toward his potential audience has, Wetmore says, been a priority for him since the outset of his career. “I feel like in the past, especially with country, [artists will have] grown so much in the States and then they’re five years into their career, a couple of albums in, and they’re like, ‘All right, let’s go take this thing worldwide,’ ” he says. “They’re kind of playing catch-up, taking steps back [into] smaller venues — which is not wrong, it’s [one] way to do it — but I’ve always said I want to grow as much in the States as I am overseas at the same time.”

It was during a sold-out three-show run in London in late April that his former tourmate (and, now, confidant) Thomas Rhett surprised Wetmore on video with news that he’d won the Academy of Country Music Award for new male artist of the year, while Wetmore’s mother, Sia, presented the accolade to him onstage. It was a fitting moment: Raised in a single-parent household after his father left their family when Wetmore was 11 (a subject he touches on in the poignant “What Not To”), Wetmore forged a tight bond with his mom and sisters. Professionally, too, he’s surrounded himself with strong women, including his manager, Autumn Ledgin.

“I was raised by women. I grew up around women my entire life. I’m just more comfortable around women and feel more creative around women, and I trust women more, honestly,” Wetmore says. “Women are powerhouses … especially the women around me. They set a goal and they’re going to achieve it. And if they can’t, they’re going to find another way.”

Wetmore is quickly seeing results of that team effort. Next up, at this summer’s CMA Fest in Nashville, he’ll graduate to playing the Nissan Stadium stage.

“When I first played CMA Fest [in 2024], I had no album out. I [just] had a couple of songs that were doing really good things. That first time I ever played at the Hard Rock stage, 8,500 people shut down Broadway to watch me [play] a 25-minute set,” he recalls. “That was two years ago, and now I got my own slot at Nissan on the main stage. I think that’s just a testament of trust in the process; keep doing what you’re doing.”

This story appears in the May 30, 2026, issue of Billboard.

When the joint Death Cab for Cutie and The Postal Service tour – paying tribute to the indie classics Transatlanticism and Give Up, respectively – passed through the Washington, D.C., area in 2023, Ben Gibbard made an unexpected detour.

“I had been listening to an egregious amount of Fugazi, and I was reconnecting with that music that was so important to me when I was younger,” the Death Cab and Postal Service frontman says. “Nick [Harmer, Death Cab’s bassist] and I went to the Dischord House, and Ian [MacKaye, Fugazi and Minor Threat frontman and Dischord Records founder] showed us around. He was just showing us all this emphemera, and we’re sitting there talking in the basement that Minor Threat practiced in. You know, crazy s–t – like, 27-year-old me wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

But the visit was more than a pinch-me music nerd moment for Gibbard, now 49. “I started to take a lot from how they arranged their music,” he continues. “Their music was so unadorned.”

Death Cab’s 11th album, I Built You a Tower, due out June 5, is not a hardcore punk record. But the record does contain some of the band’s most direct music in years, stripped of many of the accoutrements that defined its material throughout the 2010s. The back-to-basics ethos conjures Death Cab’s early albums – and fittingly, Tower is the band’s first album on an indie label in more than 20 years. For the record, Death Cab signed with ANTI- Records, home to the likes of MJ Lenderman and The Beths, after two decades on Atlantic, and the move creatively reinvigorated it.

Even as Death Cab and Gibbard mine their pasts – through anniversary tours, revisiting old inspirations and resurrecting old recording techniques – the band remains a present-day force. “Riptides,” Tower’s lead single, became the band’s ninth No. 1 hit on Adult Alternative Airplay earlier this month, and Tower is continuing the creative renaissance that began with 2022’s acclaimed Asphalt Meadows.

“We feel so fortunate that, after all these years – and we’re coming up on 30 years in 2027 – people still care enough to come and see us play,” says Gibbard as the road warriors prepare for another summer of heavy touring. “We feel that we would be doing ourselves and the people who love this band a great disservice if we just phoned that part in.”

Gibbard connected with Billboard to discuss getting inspired by The Cure and AC/DC, eschewing studio perfection and why this divorce record is different from his last one.

Over the last few years, you’ve embraced the anniversary tour model where you play classic albums front to back. Why has that format appealed to you?

First and foremost, I’m a music fan. The older I get, I’ve been trying to think strategically in regards to how we tour, what we play on tour, how we make records, everything else from a fan’s perspective. “If this was my favorite band, what would I want?” In the same way that when I see The Cure is playing Disintegration in its entirety, in order [in 2019], like, Hooo-ly s–t, I guess I’m flying to Sydney. I wanted to see that so bad. And making no kind of comparisons between us and The Cure, but the reality is that there are a lot of people who have formed a bond with [Death Cab], with those records.

What was so fun about doing the records in order like that is that everybody knows what’s coming. You’re seeing a record in the order it was conceived as an album, but not necessarily how you would play it for dramatic effect when you’re doing it live. It’s really fun.

Did revisiting those records every night influence your creative process for this new one?

During the course of a normal Death Cab show, we’re toggling between eras in my life, and I’m playing a song I wrote when I was 20, the next song is something I wrote last year. As a performer, you’re living in that version of yourself for three minutes at a time. But doing [Transatlanticism and Give Up] back to back, I’m living in my 25-, 26-year-old version of myself for the evening. I was forced to think about how different some of my approach to writing music has been between 2001 and 2002, when I was writing those records, and how I had been writing music for the last couple records.

A lot of it just came down to process. When I was first writing music for the early Death Cab records, the first three or four albums, I was using a four-track. had to have it all written before I could record it. I decided that I really wanted to get back to starting from a similar place as I did on those first three or four records. As I was writing songs in this fashion, it was connecting me back to a creative M.O. that I had been using when I was younger that I was really inspired by, that I had kind of left on the side of the road 20 some years ago. But I’m still writing from the perspective of where I am now. I started to really like how those things hybridized with each other.

How evident do you think this approach is on the final product?

In a limitless multitrack world of compute recording and computers, we have had a number of moments where we’re just spending way too much time triple-tracking the guitar with different sounds to give it some shape, or whatever, rather than just moving on to the next thing — and telling ourselves, “This is important.” The songs that I was writing for this record, they didn’t seem to need that. I kind of had a manifesto [for this album] where I was like, “Look, I really don’t want to overstack stuff. If the guitar sounds good, that’s the guitar.” You listen to an old AC/DC record, there’s nothing on those songs. They’re not triple-tracking those guitars. They sound fine; they sounded huge. Everybody realized that this was going to work.

This was your second album working with John Congleton (Courtney Barnett, Sleater-Kinney), after he produced Asphalt Meadows. What did he bring to the table?

The two albums [2015’s Kintsugi and 2018’s Thank You For Today] we had made before Asphalt Meadows were arduous processes. And that wasn’t [producer] Rich Costey’s fault, that had as much to do with the material we came in. The songs I had brought in weren’t complete. They weren’t arranged. There’s some stuff on there I really like, but it just took a long time. Those records took longer to make than any records we’d ever made. I’d put the majority of that on us, the band. But when we made Asphalt Meadows, that was the quickest record we had made —soup to nuts, tracked — since The Photo Album in 2001.

We made I Built You a Tower in even less time — three and a half weeks. I love that John just moves really fast. He just keeps everybody on track — and he won’t let you sit there and play your guitar line 50 times to get it perfect. We’ll do a song two or three times, and you’ll hear him come over the intercom, and he’ll be like, “Hey, man, you can do it again if you want, but I got it.” Like, we don’t need to do this. He studied under the great Steve Albini; he takes a lot of stuff from Steve.

One of the things he would tell us all the time is, like, in six months, you’re not going to hear any of this stuff. Nobody is going to listen to this record and be like, “Ooh, Dave kind of f–ked up that note.” That’s something that I really have taken to heart when it comes to everything in my performance. I’m not going to get bogged down in the weeds — because then you run the risk of chipping away what makes that performance special.

It’s always interesting to hear how, even for a veteran artist, a producer can still change how they think about their craft.

Well, you also have to go in wanting to be produced. We have talked to John about some of the artists he’s worked with where he’s like, “We started working on the record and it became apparent they didn’t want a producer.” Before we made Asphalt Meadows, he talked about that, and was like, “If you tell me you want it to be like, A, B, C, D and E, and that’s why you’re hiring me, I’m gonna do that. So don’t get weird when I start doing the thing you asked me to do, and it makes you uncomfortable because it doesn’t sound like your old records.” I was like, “No problem, man, go for it.” Because I don’t want to make Transatlanticism again, you know? I just don’t.

This album follows your second divorce, and a major lyrical theme is compartmentalizing grief. For some artists, grief can make writing more difficult, but for others, it can act as a creative accelerant. How did the challenges in your personal life impact this record?

I had made the decision that in writing about a divorce for the second time, this wasn’t going to be a bitter record or an angry record or a score-settling record. I didn’t have any desire to tell that story. I really wanted to focus on what this experience had brought out in me, and to talk about the more internal side of what this experience was, rather than “here’s what happened.” Kintsugi is a bit of a “here’s what happened” record; I’d already written that record.

I felt that if I wrote about this experience and the compartmentalization of this kind of experience to just get through the day and to do my job, that there would be elements of that story that would be relatable to people who maybe hadn’t gone through a divorce, but who had experienced some other kind of loss. It’s never been my goal to write a universal song or record. But I felt that if I spoke about this in a little broader internal terms, that there would be more in this that people would find relatable than me just telling a story about my life.

Few K-pop groups have built a fictional world as intricate as aespa‘s — and fewer still keep expanding it rather than leaving it behind. Since debuting in November 2020 with KWANGYA, the parallel realm, and ae, the virtual self, the SM Entertainment quartet of KARINA, GISELLE, WINTER and NINGNING has treated every release not as a clean reset, but as another chapter in a single, unfolding mythology — a rare instinct in a genre that tends to prize reinvention over continuity.

That throughline has carried real weight. Girls took the group to No. 3 on the Billboard 200 (dated July 23, 2022); “Whiplash” peaked at No. 8 on the Billboard Global 200 (dated Nov 9, 2024) and stayed on the chart for 31 weeks; and in 2025, aespa was named Group of the Year at Billboard Women in Music. More than five years on, aespa has grown harder to reduce to any single concept — a group whose “metallic” sound and exacting performance identity now stand on its own, lore or no lore, and whose reach keeps widening: a fourth world tour is set to carry the quartet across Asia, the Americas and Europe into early 2027.

Its second studio album, LEMONADE, arrives at that turning point, but rather than dwell on the music itself, Billboard Korea spoke with aespa to look at the group behind it. The members reflect on who they’ve become beyond the mythology that introduced them, the sonic territory they still want to claim, the standards and the bonds they refuse to lose as everything else shifts and the legacy they hope will remain decades from now.

aespa first entered the public imagination through one of K-pop’s most ambitious world-building systems: KWANGYA and ae, the virtual self. Over time, that universe has become less about fiction alone and more about identity, self-protection, desire and the question of who you are when the concept is stripped away. When you look at aespa today, what do you feel the group has become beyond its original mythology?

aespa: When we debuted, ae and KWANGYA were essential to how the world understood aespa. They gave us a completely unique world to start from. But over time, we’ve grown far beyond just the boundaries of our lore. Today, our signature “metallic” sonic identity, our visuals, our performances and our distinct individual personalities define who we are just as much as the story. It feels like we’re no longer just characters navigating a fictional world; we are creating a cultural language that is entirely our own. While our lore will always be a part of our DNA, the core of aespa has shifted to the four of us: our real selves, our growth and the confidence we’ve gained along the way. Today, we know exactly who we are, and we can express our true colors more confidently than ever before.

aespa’s sound has always balanced futuristic tension with strong pop instincts, moving across electronic, pop, rock and performance-driven sounds. Looking ahead, what kind of sonic territory feels most necessary for aespa to explore next?

aespa: We love pushing boundaries and want to continue exploring new sounds and concepts, but the key is always making sure it retains that unmistakable aespa energy. Whether we dive deeper into experimental electronic, raw rock elements, or a completely new genre, our ultimate goal is transformation without losing our core. We want to evolve in a way where no matter how much the sound changes, the moment people hear it, they instantly recognize, “That is definitely aespa.”

K-pop often rewards speed, visibility and constant reinvention, but aespa has built power through continuity, with recurring symbols, sounds, characters and ideas. What do you think aespa must preserve as it keeps evolving?

aespa: We believe our continuity is actually our greatest strength. As we evolve, what we protect most carefully are the anchors that make aespa: our signature conceptual depth, our performance standard and the distinct colors each of us brings. But above all, the synergy between the four of us is really important to us. No matter how much the trends shift or how much we grow and change, that collective harmony will remain the true heart of aespa.

KARINA, as aespa’s leader, you tend to set the tone for how the group moves together, on stage and as a team. In this era, what felt most important for you to express through your presence?

KARINA: Since this is our second full-length album, it felt like a really important milestone for aespa. We all shared the same goal of showing a completely new side of ourselves, and I think that passion really comes through in the music. During recording and choreography practices, all the members shared so many ideas, making the entire process feel deeply collaborative. More than ever, this album feels like something the four of us truly built together.

Staying with you, KARINA, “Camouflage” carries a strong sense of concealment, control and transformation. Approaching a song like that, what mood or detail did you most want to bring out?

KARINA: What really stood out to me was the idea of hiding yourself as a way to protect yourself. “Camouflage” isn’t just about disguise; it’s about stepping into another version of yourself so you don’t get shaken or hurt. While recording, I focused heavily on channeling that specific mindset and delivering energy through my vocals.

GISELLE, you bring a distinct sense of rhythm, attitude and tone to aespa’s songs. This time around, what did you focus on most in your delivery and expression?

GISELLE: In our title track, “LEMONADE,” there’s a specific lyric in my part that goes: “Mixing up all these tangled-up problems/ Like a hurricane/ Swirling the pieces/ All the lemons/ I blend it all up and drink it down/ I don’t care if you say I’m freaky.” Just like the words suggest, I really focused on delivering an attitude that says “I don’t really care,” no matter what kind of problems or challenges come my way. I wanted that unapologetic confidence to come through clearly in my delivery.

Still with you, GISELLE: Narration on songs like “Rich Man” and “WDA” gives aespa’s music a cinematic sense of attitude and premise. If there were a song called “aespa” that captured the group so far, what would its opening line be?

GISELLE: “Next Level!” It would simply be a declaration to show aespa’s signature “metallic” sound and performance in a completely fresh way, always pushing boundaries and taking it to the next level.

WINTER, across aespa’s discography, which song feels closest to the artist you’re becoming now, not just the performer people know, but the version of you still taking shape?

WINTER: I don’t think I can choose just one single song. For me, every aespa song and every single performance has been an essential part of the process of figuring out who I am, both as a person and as an artist. I don’t think there is one song that shows a definitive or complete version of me just yet. But as I continue to discover that more clearly, I want to keep growing and presenting who I am with even greater confidence.

WINTER, aespa’s music often moves between intensity, elegance and emotional contrast. As an artist, what kind of emotion or texture are you most drawn to expressing these days?

WINTER: Lately, I’ve been really drawn to the subtle nuances between emotions, rather than focusing on one distinct feeling. This album explores so many different moods, so I tried to bring out a completely different energy for each individual song. Some tracks required raw strength, some needed more softness and others called for a kind of tension in between. I think finding that contrast is what makes performing so interesting. Moving forward, I’m really excited to see how our fans notice those subtle differences and which emotions they connect with the most.

NINGNING, you carry a particular kind of confidence that only comes with experience. In this era, was there a stage, a recording moment or a detail where you felt your expression had evolved?

NINGNING: Every time we prepare a new album, I go into it with a strong desire to show how much I’ve grown. For this album, the creature and mutant-inspired concept photos were something new for me, so I spent a lot of time thinking about how to truly bring that mood to life, not just through the styling, but through my facial expressions and internal attitude. The performance of this release also demands an incredible amount of energy, so I worked hard to make sure the raw power of the music comes through flawlessly on stage.

NINGNING, when people look back on aespa decades from now, what do you hope they understand about the group that might not be obvious in the present moment?

NINGNING: A lot of people already love aespa for our lore and our sleek, futuristic “metallic” sound. But even years from now, I hope people remember us as a group that created concepts, sounds, and performances no one else could ever recreate. I want them to look back and see that we were truly one of a kind.

As we wrap up, “‘Til We Die” speaks to endurance and staying connected over time. Beyond the obvious bond with fans and members, what’s one belief, standard or promise inside aespa that you hope never changes?

aespa: “‘Til We Die” really captures the essence of what we want our legacy to be. We hope the bond between the members, and the memories and connection we keep building with MYs, will always stay strong. More than anything, we want to keep giving back to MYs with music and performances that live up to their love and expectations. That artistic integrity and gratitude is a promise we want to keep within aespa, no matter how many years pass.

This story was originally published by Billboard Korea.

Add Boards of Canada to the long, long list of artists who are not interested in being part of the Trump administration’s propaganda machine. On Thursday (May 28), the elusive Scottish electronic duo and their label, Warp Records, issued a joint statement lashing out at the American administration for using the group’s music in a strange new promo video.

The song “Deep Time,” from the pair’s first new album in 13 years, Inferno, which was released on Friday (May 29), is the eerie, wordless soundtrack to haunting, glitchy clip uploaded by the White House featuring ghostly image of a tattered, waving American flag, the presidential seal and Marine One helicopter, a border patrol boat and what appears to be a detention center.

The administration offered no context for the 15-second clip, whose only caption was the shifty eyes emoji. It is the latest in a daily deluge of social media posts from the White House attempting to go viral through the use of contemporary music, almost always, it seems, without the consent of the artist who created the soundtrack.

In this case, in addition to glomming onto Boards of Canada’s music, the clip also appeared to copy their staticky, glitchy VHS tape visual aesthetic, which caused some commenters to lash out and demand the duo take action. “File a copyright claim,” wrote one, with another imploring, “@boardsofcanada please sue them into oblivion, jfc,” and a third simply asking, “What the f–k.”

In a statement to Billboard on Friday morning, a spokesperson for Warp Records said that neither the label nor the band — comprised of brothers Mike Sandison and Marcus Eoin — “condone the unauthorised use of their music for political messaging.” At press time, a spokesperson for White House had not returned Billboard‘s request for comment on the video.

BOC are just the latest act to push back on the administration for using their music in hype videos or at political rallies without authorization, joining a very lengthy roster that includes The White Stripes and Eddy Grant, Sabrina Carpenter, Celine Dion, Foo Fighters, Neil Young, Olivia Rodrigo, Pharrell, Rihanna, Rolling Stones and many more.