Beyond the Surface: An Interview with Mónica Giraldo

Mónica Giraldo is one of those artists whose music carries the weight of tradition while effortlessly embracing the present. A singer-songwriter deeply rooted in Colombia’s folk heritage, her work bridges the timeless and the contemporary, weaving acoustic storytelling with the subtle influence of global sounds.

We first encountered Mónica’s work through her manager, Lucrecia Rotlewicz, at last year’s Bogotá Music Market (BOmm). As we delved into her music, it was clear that she’s an artist with an extensive, nuanced career—one that speaks to the evolving identity of Latin American folk. Her songs hold echoes of the family gatherings where she first picked up the guitar, but also the sensibilities of someone who has studied, traveled, and absorbed the richness of music beyond borders.

We sat down to talk about her journey—from early influences to her upcoming full length release—and how her work continues to challenge and redefine the idea of Latin folk music.

So, to start, I’d love for you to tell us a bit about yourself and your career from the very beginning. You have an amazing trajectory, and I know you released that new song “Remolino” at the end of 2024, which, by the way, I loved!

Of course! Music has always been part of my life. I come from a very musical family—my father had an incredibly powerful voice, and over time, as I learned to listen to different voices, I’ve come to appreciate his even more. My family is from the Paisa region in Colombia, and we all played guitar and sang. For me, music was never about a professional career; it was simply a way of living, expressing, and telling stories. But at some point, I decided to pursue it professionally.

I played in school choirs, bands, and any musical groups I could find. Then I went to Berklee College of Music because I wanted to study popular music. After six months in Boston, my father convinced me to come back to Colombia and study architecture instead. At the time, conservatories here didn’t focus on the kind of music I was drawn to—guitar, vocals, and songwriting—so I felt a bit disconnected. But architecture turned out to be a great creative outlet; it helped me understand space, culture, and the way we inhabit places.

Eventually, I went back to Berklee because I felt something was missing. Los Andes University in Bogotá had given me a strong sense of Colombian and Latin American identity, but Berklee opened my eyes to the world. I was suddenly surrounded by musicians from all over—Asia, Europe, Latin America—and it was a musical awakening for me. That exposure to different global styles shaped my own music profoundly.

Amazing! Berklee must’ve been an incredible experience, and I did notice that, for example, you’ve been featured on some of the Putumayo World Music compilations.

Besides being a great achievement, this ties into a broader conversation about how music is categorized. I’ve written about this myself recently—how labels like “World music” or “Latin music” can be helpful but also limiting. What’s your take on these classifications?

I’ve always grappled with the idea of genres. In Colombia, we have very defined genres—vallenato, ranchera, cumbia—so when you create music that blends influences, it can be hard to categorize. But at the same time, I understand why these labels exist. Listeners need a reference point.

After many discussions, especially with people like Lucrecia, we landed on calling my style latin folk. It’s music with deep roots, a sense of identity, but not necessarily heavily produced like electronic or dance music. It’s a space where singer-songwriters fit in, even if that category itself is still broad. At some point, I stopped resisting labels and just embraced them as a way to help people understand my sound.

As for Putumayo, when I returned to Colombia in 2002, I recorded my first album in Boston and the second one here in Colombia with Felipe Álvarez at Sonido Azulado studio. That album, Mónica Muy Cerca, was a turning point. I was inspired by Brazilian MPB, which has a well-defined yet globally influenced identity.

Back then, music wasn’t digital yet, and Putumayo was brilliant in how they distributed music through alternative spaces—libraries, cafés, museums and galleries. It introduced audiences to sounds from around the world. They helped expand this term, “world music,” which in turn created a niche for people seeking rich and diverse musical experiences.

Totally. And also that’s a really interesting perspective on genres—seeing them as a point of reference rather than a limitation. You also mentioned electronic music earlier. Every artist today, regardless of genre, seems to be incorporating electronic elements. Have you considered taking this approach in your sound?

Well, I actually have three defining moments in my life when it comes to electronic music:

The first was in Boston when Bebel Gilberto released an album blending Brazilian music with electronic production. She worked with producers in New York, and that album was groundbreaking—it elevated the fusion of traditional songwriting and electronic textures. I have it around here somewhere. A fun fact: a year ago, I saw Bebel Gilberto performing live. But for me, that specific electronic turn in her music was fascinating.

Another electronic music moment that blew my mind was Sidestepper. I remember the first time I heard them—I was in Puerto Rico, and they had just released More Grip, and a few years later it was that pink album 3AM, which I also have here. That was unforgettable. In fact, I recorded two Sidestepper covers because I adore them: “No Lloraré” and “Deja”.

And Sidestepper of course goes back to Iván and Lucía, which is a whole other story. I don’t think you had even been born yet in those days! (laughs)

No, I hadn’t! I obviously know Sidestepper and have been a fan of theirs for many years, but this is some unknown musical history that I’m very interested in for sure. Please tell us more about it!

They were a duo—Iván Benavides and Lucía Pulido. They wrote incredible songs—just voice and guitar. Their music had such power that it built a devoted following in Bogotá, one that still exists today. What amazed me most was their transformation—not just in their songwriting, but how it became a bridge to electronic music, leading them to work with Richard Blair and create Sidestepper. That was something truly special.

Another group I love, though I don’t know as much about them, is called Everything But The Girl. They also blended electronic elements with delicate female vocals and beats in a way that was just magical.

I’d love to do something electronic if I found someone who understood how to make the electronic aspect complement the pieces rather than just adding noise. I mean, electronic music should push the songs forward—toward a future we dream of, or the reality of the city we walk through. So in summary I’m very open to this possibility and it’s not a taboo for me at all—I’d love to explore that.

Looking forward to it! Now moving to a broader topic—how do you see the current music scene in Colombia, especially in Bogotá? There are so many events, festivals, and live performances. What’s your perspective on this new generation of local artists?

Well just yesterday, I was looking at your post on fresh Colombian projects and I had several thoughts. Firstly, Ëda Díaz—I loved her fusion of electronic elements with folk music. That mix of tradition and innovation is incredible. Also I found Sara Cartwright’s project Sara y Jacobo to be pretty good!

Recently, I also attended a concert at the Planetarium where Laura Pérez performed, and she was spectacular. Her compositions really resonated with me. I saw myself reflected in that creative moment—when you’re filled with emotion and desire to create. That energy is invaluable, and it’s what propels music forward.

That same night, I also saw Maro from Portugal. She’s an extraordinary singer-songwriter who studied at Berklee. Her subtle, intricate style connects deeply with me. And speaking of international artists, Maro reminds me of Judit Neddermann, a young Spanish singer-songwriter who’s amazing and very lively.

For me, these artists are so refreshing. It’s amazing to see women gaining confidence, expressing themselves without fear, and embracing not just anger but beauty as well. That inspires me tremendously.

I really hope these projects continue growing, and that Colombia’s music scene keeps expanding. It’s important that record labels pay attention to female singer-songwriters. This movement is very energizing and valuable, and I see myself reflected in these new artists.

Excellent. Now, let’s talk about your music. You recently released “Remolino”, which I thought was fantastic. Is this part of a larger project—an EP or album?

Yes! The past two years, I’ve been touring outside of Colombia—in Washington, New York, Philadelphia, and other cities in the Northeast U.S. My earlier tours were in a trio format, but lately I’ve been performing solo with just my guitar.

After recording multiple albums with big production, stripping it down to just my voice and guitar has been incredibly powerful. Last year, near Boston, I recorded with a producer, and the songs we worked on are now being released as singles. The full EP comes out in March.

We started with “Saltar al Agua”—if you haven’t heard it yet, I invite you to listen and watch the video. It’s beautiful. Then there was “Remolino” and this Thursday, we’re releasing a song that originally was a fado. I’ve always thought fado shares deep emotional connections with Latin American music. I fell in love with this song, translated it into Spanish, and made it my own. It’s called “Traigo un Canto Guardado”.

Other songs will follow, all leading up to the EP’s release in March. These are deeply personal songs—where life itself is the main character. They are stripped down, just guitar and voice, a very intimate format, but emotionally profound.

And your live performances now—are they all you alone with the guitar?

Yes, for now. I’ve performed with incredible musicians in the past—Colombians, Cubans, and more—who have always brought so much richness to my music. But at this moment, I feel the need to focus on the essence of the song, the melody, and the story. It’s a new challenge, but a beautiful one.

Have you planned any release events for the EP?

Yes, we’re planning something for the release. I’ll keep you posted!

For sure, we’d love to know more. For now, thank you so much, Mónica, for taking the time to talk.

Of course! It’s been a pleasure.

As our conversation winds down, one thing becomes clear—Mónica Giraldo is an artist who embodies both deep-rooted tradition and fearless exploration. Whether through her minimalist acoustic performances or her openness to new sonic landscapes, she continues to craft music that resonates with authenticity.

With the upcoming release of her new EP, it’s an exciting time to follow her journey. And who knows? Maybe we’ll hear an electronic-infused Mónica Giraldo track sooner than we think.

Follow Sounds and Colours: Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / Mixcloud / Soundcloud / Bandcamp

Subscribe to the Sounds and Colours Newsletter for regular updates, news and competitions bringing the best of Latin American culture direct to your Inbox.

Share: