ALBUM REVIEW: Nacarile

iLe - Nacarile

The first track off Nacarile, the third studio album from Puerto Rican artist iLe, starts unexpectedly with a wavering, extraterrestrial coo reminiscent of 1950s science fiction programs. iLe is known for pulling from traditional Caribbean genres like bomba, mambo, and bolero while maintaining a masterful balance of lament and defiance, but “A la deriva” immediately signals a new era of experimentation in her career. These same influences are woven throughout Nacarile, but they have taken on a newer form, one characterized by sultry, heavy bass and gritty guitar riffs that accompany the singer’s light-as-a-feather melodies. Those who love iLe’s pleasant, Café-con-Leche-playlist sound might be disappointed, but this is noticeably a project composed in the depths of quarantine; it’s truly about accepting all the turbulent parts of oneself and finding new ways to move forward, to fight back, to be resilient. This negotiation has always been at the core of iLe’s work, but in Nacarile we see a rawer version of it, the process of coping and healing made apparent in every word.

I was first introduced to iLe as a solo act in 2019 while watching a live broadcast of the #RickyRenuncia protests in Old San Juan. In a sea of millions who had marched to the capital to protest government corruption, she stood elevated on the back of a pickup truck and sang the revolutionary version of “La Borinqueña,” the Puerto Rican national anthem. In the world’s oldest colony, where it was once illegal to whistle this tune or fly the Puerto Rican flag, her choice to sing this version was daring as it pointed a finger beyond the island’s government to the greater colonial power of the United States. At that moment, she was defiance and resilience personified—and that’s just the kind of artist she is. Every song is a rallying cry, an evocation of a painful history, a simple love song made revolutionary with a pointed phrase and the pounding of a conga drum.

In Nacarile, iLe still carries this spirit even if her approach is different. In “ALGO BONITO,” iLe sharply deviates from her past work by teaming up with Ivy Queen—one of the only women in the early reggaetón scene—on a feminist anthem that boisterously advocates for bodily autonomy over a dembow-inspired beat. In “(Escapándome) de mí,” iLe’s iconic vocals are distorted over plucked guitar strings as she sings of fear, vulnerability, and losing sight of yourself. “Donde nadie más Respira” is partially sung over short, anxious breaths arranged into a seamless instrumental, as if she wrote it while drowning and gasping for air. As always, her voice cuts through the tense silence of an imaginary crowd, holding all her trademark tension, emotion, and endurance in biting melodies. It’s a song that immediately reveals all the emotional turbulence that went into it, just like the rest of the album. After these past few years, iLe’s sound and approach to creating music might be different, but that’s a good thing—after all, so are we. 

– DJ Oye

Recommended Tracks: “A la deriva,” “ALGO BONITO,” “(Escapándome) de mí,” “donde nadie más Respira,” “traguito”
RIYL: The Marías, Buscabulla, Natalia Lafourcade
FCC: Explicit — "ALGO BONITO"