In a world where Cuban reparto music is having viral momentum and making international leaps, there’s Melanie Santiler going against the tide. To best showcase her artistry, the 25-year-old rising act from Havana delivers her debut album Los Cisnes, out today (Sept. 25) under MamiFinaRecords/ONErpm.

On the 10-track set, Santiler, a former 2025 Billboard On the Radar Latin artist, seamlessly navigates from alternative to jazz to electronic, while fearlessly redefining Latin pop music. And while she’s creating music in her own terms, three of the tracks — ”Gataza,” “Delincuente,” and “Los Repas No Lloran” — honor the booming reparto movement (a tropical and urban musical genre that derives from the barrios of her native Caribbean island).  

“Reparto is a constant inspiration in my music,” Santiler, who’s currently in Spain, tells Billboard over a zoom interview. “I used to produce a slow-tempo reparto, but now it’s faster and has evolved with the sounds I have been listening to. In ‘Los Repas,’ I even dared to make a ‘sad’ reparto mixed with bolero lyrics.”

But beyond the melting pot of melodies — inspired by artists such as Rosalía, C. Tangana, Yomil y el Dany, Buena Vista Social Club, and Celia Cruz — Los Cisnes underlines years of soul-searching and self-reflection narrated by Santiler’s dreamy and sensual vocal prowess. 

Below, Santiler talks more about her debut album.  

Melanie Santiler has a very different sound than what’s actually trending in Cuba today. What made you take this alternative route? 

This was always Melania, really; I had to mold that persona early in my career — trying to find myself, above all — but this album gives me the chance to show who I truly am, through and through. The project itself allows me to create a universe I felt I needed. When I played my music for others, I felt something was still missing — songs that truly expressed who I was. This album has made that possible, allowing people to get to know the real me.

It’s true, this isn’t the kind of music currently being consumed in Cuba, and that scares me a little; at the same time, though, I have great faith that there are people — in Cuba and around the world — who need this kind of music. I decided to take the risk of being myself, of saying what I’ve wanted to say for a long time, of dancing, and of creating a visual album.

In the opening track, “Guardaespaldas,” there’s a lyric that goes, “Me gustan que me hagan todo, menos escribirme las canciones” (I like when people do everything for me, except write my songs): How involved were you in the writing process? 

I wrote all the songs — or I’d say 80–90% of them, with contributions from the producers. In fact, I was able to release songs I’d had tucked away for a long time. For example, “Azabache” is the first song I ever wrote, six years ago; I always saved it for the album.

The idea for the record really took shape last November, when I traveled to Spain for the first time and saw the real world. I realized I needed to take the step of becoming a recording artist, and that it was time to show the world I was capable of creating a bigger project and speaking about important things.

How did that trip to Spain truly bring the project to life?

I have a healthy relationship with Madrid. I love this city, and every time I come here, I put on a major show. With last year’s concert, I realized that these kinds of projects were viable. In Cuba, for instance, the single format is dominant, and very few artists have dared to create a true concept album. Every one of my songs is there for a reason and follows a specific structure. That was what drew me to Madrid — the ability to do different things that took a different path. I felt more inspired to build projects.

“Los Cisnes” with Carlos Varela feels like the most personal song of all and the most current with the situation in Cuba.    

Exactly. In fact, we play the Cuban national anthem in a minor key, which is why it feels sadder. “Los Cisnes” was written around the same time as “Azabache”; it isn’t one of the newest songs on the album, yet it remains very relevant in every respect. Getting to perform it with Carlos Varela is a dream come true. I’ve always used songs to speak my mind and communicate what I need to say. This will always be my answer to any question about my country… I said it all in “Los Cisnes.”

Why should we be listening to Melanie Santiler now?

I am going through similar processes to everyone else. I don’t want people to listen to me because I’m the promise. I would like them to listen to me to find someone who is speaking truths from her point of view and trying to be super sincere with herself, and that connects much more than any aspiration.

I feel that listening to a sincere project at a time when the music industry is so commercial is the most valid thing: see the work, see myself fighting, search for my identity, show what I’m going through. The album talks about a process of searching and ultimately transforming. About how I started my career in one way and a million things happened, while getting somewhere else. The heroine’s journey, which is not the end result but the process and what you are learning along the way.

So, what did you learn along the way?  

I think, above all, it’s about not having answers. In fact, “Rezo” — the album’s closing track — is about not being okay and not knowing what to do yet, but still holding onto the hope that everything will turn out fine. It’s more about living through the process — knowing that both good and bad things can happen, but that I have to keep moving forward. It’s that search for identity and freedom — and even for what being Cuban means to me — while coming to understand that there are no answers to some very big questions. It’s an album about the process, rather than about making a definitive discovery.