A special thanks to subscriber N_Gorski for suggesting today’s feature. They jumped into the comments on last week’s recommendation to inquire about my thoughts on the latest Sotomayor album. I hadn’t listened to it at that point, but now I’m truly captivated by it.

Sotomayor is a dynamic duo from Mexico City, composed of siblings Raul and Paulina Sotomayor. Their album Wabi Sabi is their first release following the 2020 album Origenes, and it’s an exhilarating delight. If you review my recommendations over recent months, “fun” isn’t a term that typically comes up, but that’s precisely what Wabi Sabi embodies—it’s lively, chaotic, and irresistibly danceable.

My initial exposure to Sotomayor was through a brief documentary by Ableton, which highlighted Raul’s diverse projects. In the film, he talks about his evolving music-making philosophy—transitioning from creating “proper” and “clean” sounds to embracing distortion and stretching the limits of his music.

This evolution is evident in their tracks. The opening number, “Me dejo llevar,” kicks off with a synth arpeggio stretched to its limits, filled with intriguing digital artifacts. The track maintains a slight edge, as if everything is just on the brink of overloading. Similarly, “Who’s there” pulsates with energy, capturing the essence of a dance floor ready to explode.

Vintage electronic drum beats, rumbling bass, and reverb-heavy noise stabs simmer without reaching full release, culminating in the standout track “Vida.” Here, Paulina shifts into a sultry mode, singing over a UK garage-inspired beat that crescendos into an afrohouse club sensation.

Wabi Sabi joyfully leaps across genres with infectious enthusiasm. Afrobeat, cumbia, electro-pop, R&B, and more blend into what stands as the most enjoyable album of 2026 so far. Despite the unconventional sounds (including, yes, a donkey jaw) and stylistic adventures, Sotomayor maintains a cohesive vision that binds the record together seamlessly.

At no point does the chaos threaten to overwhelm. Never does it feel like the duo are simply throwing things at the wall to see what sticks; everything is a carefully made decision in service of the party. The gently meandering guitar of “Yo se todo de ti,” the classic house of “Todo se derrumba,” and the dancehall of “Prende la palma” all feel unified by Paulina’s undeniable charisma on the mic and Raul’s uninhibited sonic curiosity.