iLe Como Las Canto Yo

iLe’s Boleros Give Women a Powerful Voice

iLe’s vocal outpouring makes the boleros seem like cousins to flamenco or Portuguese fado, which aim to express deep and powerful emotions.

Como Las Canto Yo
iLe
La Buena Fortuna
24 October 2025

There’s love that’s just lovely, and then there’s the love that digs under your skin and sets your guts on fire. Likewise, the Latin boleros can be gauzily romantic, but on Como Las Canto Yo, the singer iLe is more interested in those whose hearts and intellects are aflame.

Boleros began in Cuba over a hundred years ago and have always been a Latin music staple. Sometimes, they are the slow dance break from the more frenetic mambo or salsa tunes; other times, they are the main event, drawing lovers into their measured, deliberate sway. Sometimes, they celebrate the initial limerence phase of love; other times, they embody Tennyson’s bittersweet dictum that it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved.

On her latest album, the Puerto Rican singer iLe cherry-picks some classic and deep-cut boleros, mostly choosing ones that tell the story of ill-fated love. Her vocal outpouring makes the songs seem like cousins to flamenco or Portuguese fado, whose goal is to express deep and powerful emotions.

Boleros from the golden age of mambo often feature lush orchestral embellishment, but iLe leaned toward the stripped-down street sound side of the genre. In most songs, her powerful voice plays off just a guitar or a couple of instruments, making it seem more raw and urgent.

In some songs, such as the initial single “Un Amor de la Calle”, which was popularized in 1975 by the late star Hector Lavoe, iLe tells the story of a betrayal by an untrustworthy lover. It’s a heartfelt, straightforward tale told in slow, sultry tones. With soft percussion and a sparely played electric guitar, iLe conjures an arrangement as richly textured as an orchestra. The protagonist is resolute and angry, but it’s a bittersweet moment, capped with a bitter laugh—the siren saying farewell and good riddance. “I thought you were sincere / And I gave you my life / Without any conditions / But it was all a dream.”

Elsewhere, this same ambivalent goodbye to a lover is expressed in more poetic terms, such as “Moon’s Lament”. iLe fills the air with her voice, only accompanied by an acoustic guitar, evoking a quiet night that reverberates with sadness and solitude. The song’s lovely vocals celebrate a love even when it’s slipped away. “A drunken song of bitterness / That the sea murmurs/How to erase this long sadness / That your goodbye leaves behind / How can I forget you if deep inside / You are there.”

Deviating from the classics, iLe sings “No Te Detangas (Don’t Stop)” written by her grandmother, Flor Amelia de Gracia. In contrast to what one might imagine of a song written by a grandmother, this one expresses unequivocal sexual desire. She sings it with clarity and tenderness, accompanied by a sweet acoustic guitar and a dawdling, hand-slapped conga. “Don’t stop / In such a delicious moment / Don’t stop / In such a glorious moment / Like a tattoo I want to carry you / All over my body.”

One of iLe’s vocal touchstones is La Lupe, the Cuba-born singer known for her electric performances, who exploded in New York City in the 1960s, performing with Tito Puente. She tackles two of her songs here. In “El Verdugo (The Executioner)”, she is accompanied by a small combo, but successfully distills the song’s essence, a master class of technique. Where La Lupe was over the top, iLe unreels her stunning voice with perfect control. She works up to a sustained, blow-you-away vocal crescendo. “You are the executioner / Of the love that knew how to lead you / To a path of happiness / That you have never crossed again.”

She follows up by switching gears with “Pepito,” the 1961 hit by the trio Los Machucambos. The quaint tune has a playfulness not heard elsewhere, a sweet tribute to the trio’s long career.

iLe was featured on Adrian Quesada’s experimental Boleros Psicodelicos albums, and her “Si te Contara” has a similar anything-goes, retro-futuristic vibe. The big band sound with horns and vibraphone is processed to sound muffled, giving it the flavor of vintage vinyl, though her voice is front and center, singing confidently to a former lover. “If you knew, would you care / If you were told that there is no light or joy left in me / That your memory is the greatest harm I do to myself / For living dreaming that you will return repentant.”

The next tune takes a very different experimental turn. For “Un Poco Mas (A Little More)”, iLe completely remakes an old tune as an a capella exercise, but only accompanied by a chattering cloud of hand-played percussion. In another surprise turn, she covers La Lupe’s “Puro Teatro”, again showcasing her voice, only accompanied by a church-y electric organ.

In the penultimate song, iLe pays a beautiful tribute to the groundbreaking Puerto Rican female songwriter Sylvia Rexach with the gently heartbreaking “Yo Era un Flor (I Was a Flower)”. The narrator is a flower speaking to a passing butterfly, telling her story, a parable for young women who give themselves to someone who quickly moves on.

The narrator’s sad humility is heartbreaking, but the beauty of its expression—poetically and vocally—embodies what Brazilians call saudade, a bittersweet mix of feelings—a sadness that is still somehow uplifting in its beauty, a reminder of the privilege of feeling and being alive. “I was a flower / That grew in the weeds / And was offered a fleeting love / A nightingale took my chalice / Destroying my soul / And leaving me plunged in pain / I was a flower / That lost its color.”

iLe ends Como Las Canto Yo by putting romantic love aside and taking up a political message. A performer not shy about speaking out politically, she sings the Puerto Rican anthem, “La Borinqueña”. Accompanied by a single martial-sounding drum, she resurrects the song’s original lyrics written in 1868, when the island undertook its first armed rebellion against Spain. Puerto Rican poet Lola Rodriguez de Tío wrote the initial words.

The call to arms within the lyrics was tamed down when the island became a United States territory. Still, iLe goes back to the earlier, angrier lyrics, no doubt feeling the rise of sentiments against Latinos in the United States. “Wake up, Borinqueño / The signal has been given / Wake up from that dream / It’s time to fight.”

iLe’s journey to bolero warrior began in her pre-teens when her older brothers asked her to sing along with their fledgling rap group. What started in their living room in San Juan became Calle 13, one of the best-selling Latin music groups known for taking up social justice causes. Born Iléana Mercedes Cabra Joglar, her little sister was dubbed “PG-13” by a cousin who observed her singing with them in clubs where she was too young to be in the audience.

At age 25, she released her 2016 solo debut, the Grammy-winning iIlevitable, under her new stage name, iLe. The album surprised many fans since it featured a retro big band sound, including some boleros. On her latest, iLe revisits the past, but refashions it in unexpected ways and, along the way, empowers women in a genre that often gives men dominance.

Across her three solo albums, iLe has proven to be an artist constantly looking to explore new sounds. With Como las Canto Yo, which means “how I sing them”, she shows that even with the confines of a single genre, she can create a variety of soundscapes for her stunning vocal instrument and put her own mark on Latin music.

RATING 9 / 10
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