8 Latine Rappers Altering Hip-Hop’s DNA Through Psychedelia
Art by Stephany Torres for Remezcla.
The search for truth and answers has always been ingrained in human nature. As complex souls, we project our uncertainties, agonies, and aspirations into something that feels purer than our imperfect existences. In this era of AI-driven dystopias, techno-feudalism, accelerated music consumption, and a spiritual crisis, it’s no surprise that a new wave of artists is concerned with big existential questions. Considering the current zeitgeist of South America’s underground scene, we wanted to dive deeper into the human concerns and psychedelic sounds reshaping the continent’s hip-hop DNA—from Colombia to the end of the world.
This change of narrative manifests in different ways: the use of Hindu imagery (see the artworks of Argentine iconoclasts like Agusfortnite’s “FUMO Y DESPUÉS EXISTO” cover), the melancholy of past highs—“ya la droga no me pega como antes,” as fellow Argentine plugg developer Joshu Joshu sadly raps on “Como Antes”—and a profound search for the self, found on superb records, like neva pray’s humano vivo persona, a true contemporary masterpiece of Chilean cloud rap.
Yet, more than a decade before this Latine generation began diving into these existential depths, the blueprint for this radical authenticity was drawn up in the American cloud-rap movement. On 6 Kiss (2009), internet rap legend Lil B appears shirtless on the cover: a glowing halo above his head, burning crosses behind him, two women clinging to his body, and an angel reaching toward him. Really spiritual imagery for someone many once overlooked as a meme rapper, right? A year later, the “B.O.R. (Birth of Rap)” video surfaced, and its influence on modern hip-hop now feels undeniable.
Consciously or not, Lil B was pioneering a new lane for outcasts and rebels. His magnetism as a rapper lies in that fine balance between being silly, deep, and playful at once, yet always authentic. Looking back, it’s clear that cardigan-rocking, country-club-filmed Lil B opened a portal for how the blog era would sound and look like 16 years later.
Whether it be through cloud rap textures and atmospheres, plugg, jerk, psychedelic, or more experimental forms, this selection of Latine artists is altering hip-hop’s landscape in favor of something that feels more authentic.
AgusFortnite2008 & Stiffy (Swaggerboyz)
Previously neglected by rap conservatives as merely edgy teenagers during the PLUG PARK era—a period defined by their characteristic plugg sound, high-pitched silly vocals, and ironic, internet-brained lyrics—the Swaggerboyz’s evolution has been mind-boggling to witness in real time. The branding of PRA (Perdiendo Rasgos Adolescentes), their upcoming album, suggests a deliberate coming-of-age narrative, as they figure out what their “adult” persona will look and sound like.
In search of the self and psychedelic hip-hop’s framework, they now face a huge challenge: to stay true to the Swaggerboyz’s identity while making a compelling transition for their audience. With their latest releases, it seems like they’re headed in the right direction. Take Agusfortnite’s leaked compilation of snippets project: VERBORRAGIA de PSILOCIBINA, and Stiffy’s “PROTAGONISTA/INEXPLICABLE” double single as prime examples. Here, they embrace their natural vocal registers while diving deeper into hazy atmospheres, experimental vocal chops, and melancholic loops reminiscent of “FUMO Y DESPUÉS EXISTO.”
elaiyah
elaiyah is one of those rapper-producer miracles that happen very rarely in Latine hip-hop. His alien-like beats feel like a proud reflection of both his Anglophile listening tastes and his Argentine upbringing, born from a seamless mixture of both worlds.His 360-degree range allows him to move effortlessly from heartbreaking rap ballads—like “alianza” on his latest mixtape abrazando la soledad —to amazing rants about betrayal, like the one on “mi culpa.”
Blending Timbaland-like drums with cumbia whistle samples and flashy triplet hi-hats, the colors he employs are truly original and fascinating. As a shy rapper-producer archetype, he rarely boasts about his abilities. Instead, he lets his sonic maneuvers shine on their own. And thankfully, we’re here for it.
enzocerobulto
Through vocal manipulation, heavy use of vibrato, and other DAW toolies, Enzo effortlessly achieved one of trap’s main goals: to make music that tastes, smells, and looks purple. And man, he is surely obsessed with that “vasito.” In his brilliant La ultima gota, it works as a central motif. On the highlight “falsa tu cara de cristo,” he sings: “qué loco que está mi vasito,” letting his lethargic, dreamy falsetto take him to very far, very purple mountaintops. With this record, he inked his name into Tucuman’s rich trap legacy.
On SPDV (his latest collaborative record with veteran producer CLUB HATS), he mastered a limping flow with dry, unprocessed vocals, expanding his universe while successfully focusing on bars and using his hate for the police as another motif. It may be a trap cliché, but he delivers it with enough conviction to make you feel like he’s the missing link in the genre’s evolutionary chain.
Joshu Joshu
Joshu’s discography is a statement of freedom and a deep devotion to all forms of hip-hop. One day, you can catch him spitting over Britney Spears’ “Toxic” (stolen beat); the next over Ñengo Flow-style instrumentals, or piano-driven bangers with Tony Shhnow. The means don’t matter to him—the ends do.
On his latest Padua Angel ˂3 EP, he gleamed through gelid production while keeping his intimate tone, diving into his relationship with drugs, ghosting “macumberas,” and his addiction to the cash flowing from his “lompa” (pants). Thanks to all the spontaneous (non-strategies) strategies that you would imagine, his DIY ethos, and an honest search for the self (shown on songs like “M ESTOY SINTIENDO YO”), he has earned his respect as a key innovator in Argentine hip-hop, and a genuine internet rarity.
Neva Pray
Going by the name Neva Pray, he doesn’t shy away from his real-life circumstances: currently juggling two jobs in Miami to help his mom and little brother. That existential clarity is precisely what positions him as a quiet, behind-the-scenes leader of this new movement. “Si no sale del corazón no vale, aunque la wea te dé plata, dime, ¿qué vale?, no penseí con cabeza si el arte del alma sale…,” he raps idiosyncratically on one of last year’s defining tracks, “qevale,” from his latest masterpiece, humano vivo persona.
The album works as the necessary antidote for the poisonous present. It’s this chaotic, messy, and raw music that returns life to art. Between silly jokes and sharp cultural observations, as he gazes at his scars in the mirror, it’s as if he’s fully aware that his superpower lies in his outsiderness, never letting the weight of expectations stain his music.
Sa!koro
Though Colombia has one of the region’s richest hip-hop traditions, it has lagged in exporting globally relevant trap voices. That makes Sa!koro—a skinny rolo now based in Canada—a kind of north star for the paradigm’s development in his country. David Vaillancourt has constantly experimented, going from indie to corridos, plugg, jerk, cloud rap, and even jumpstyle.
Together with neva pray and Joshu Joshu as the collective VRITNI, they’re tracing the route for newcomers and uncomfortable veterans searching for what’s next. It’s one of the strongest forces in modern South American trap, expanding from Colombia to Chile and Argentina, conquering the continent through compilatory projects like V_COMP and <3.
Zoeclerc
Released in collaboration with her alter ego Yoko, the first vocal sample from her latest album egg instantly takes you back to the days of downloading albums from shady blogs, praying you didn’t get a virus on your family’s computer. It’s music that could only be born from the internet with a vast range of sounds and references. Beyond the fine curation of producers, her lyrics capture the angst of her generation on tracks like “cuando uso el celu m pone mal,” while also expressing a personal fear of a world that doesn’t represent her. On “Where The Monsters Cry,” she raps: “Tengo miedo de esta tierra ajena…”
Her role in the current Latine hip-hop landscape might be best understood through this sample from Alejandra Pizarnik, featured on “motivation”: “simplemente no soy de este mundo, habito con frenesí la luna, mis palabras no son de este mundo.” Deeply committed to a path of authentic expression, she makes her voice clearer, amplifying the spiritual claims of her generation.