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Last year, Mexican singer-songwriter Silvana Estrada<\/a> was working on the follow-up to her critically acclaimed 2022 debut album, Marchita<\/em>. But midway through the process, she hit a wall. It wasn\u2019t that she couldn\u2019t write anymore. She didn\u2019t want<\/em> to.<\/p>\n The success of Marchita<\/em><\/a> brought the kind of opportunities that Estrada \u2014\u00a0the daughter of luthiers from the verdant hills of Coatepec, Veracruz \u2014 had dreamed of just a few years earlier. She was touring the world, opening for artists like Andrew Bird and Iron & Wine, and she had been nominated for awards at the Latin Grammys, walking away with Best New Artist that fall.<\/p>\n More from Rolling Stone<\/strong><\/p>\n But the year also came with the kind of struggles she never could\u2019ve imagined. First, she had to deal with a spinal cord injury brought on by exhaustion. Then, she received news that her best friend and his brother had been abducted and murdered in Mexico City. While the singer had always turned to music to process her emotions, in the months and the year following her friend\u2019s death, it often felt futile. \u201cI just thought, \u2018There\u2019s no song that can bring him back,\u2019\u201d she tells Rolling Stone<\/em>.<\/p>\n It was the spirit of the legendary Costa Rican-Mexican singer Chavela Vargas that delivered her from the edge.<\/p>\n In February, Estrada had accompanied a friend to an artist residency at Vargas\u2019 former home in the valley of Tepoztl\u00e1n, south of Mexico City. She made it clear that she wasn\u2019t there to make anything and mostly spent her days lazing by the pool. But eventually, she picked up her guitar and a kind of magic happened. \u201cWithin minutes, I was singing a whole song,\u201d she says. \u201cSubconsciously, it was like I had asked Chavela for help, and then I was crying, my friend was crying, there were goosebumps everywhere.\u201d<\/p>\n The song, \u201cUn Rayo De Luz,\u201d is arresting \u2014\u00a0the feeling of the first warm rays of spring after a harsh winter. Set first to a sparse guitar, Estrada\u2019s silvery voice soars over a sweeping string arrangement. Just two days before writing it, Estrada had seen an interview with Vargas<\/a> where she reflected on death saying, \u201cHow beautiful it must be that no one has ever come back from it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat image made me so happy,\u201d says Estrada. \u201cJust the idea that my friend wouldn\u2019t be coming back because he\u2019s somewhere in paradise. It was beautiful.\u201d<\/p>\n The song brought things back into focus, allowing her to thread the emotions that had been weighing on her into the beautiful, soul-baring poetry of Vendr\u00e1n Suaves Lluvias <\/em>(Soft Rains Will Come<\/em>), out Oct. 17.<\/p>\n The album is a triumphant release that balances anger and grief and, at times, surprising joy, with Estrada\u2019s bright, lilting soprano piercing through the veil of her pain. \u201cI had so many things to say, but so much to process,\u201d she says. \u201cIt took three years for me to reconnect with myself, with light and happiness, and allow myself to say, \u2018I don\u2019t know what I want, or where this journey is going to take me, but I just want to be present.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n Out poured songs like the exhilarating, \u201cDime,\u201d in which Estrada channels her frustrations over a failing relationship into an emboldened demand: \u201cTell me if you\u2019re leaving or if you\u2019re staying \/ Tell me if this time it\u2019s for real,\u201d she sings in Spanish. On \u201cGood Luck, Good Night,\u201d she embodies the melodrama of Juan Gabriel\u2019s \u201cHasta Que Te Conoc\u00ed,\u201d writing her own scorned send-off to a disappointing lover.<\/p>\n Moments on the album \u2014 the pensive, delicate beauty of \u201cComo un P\u00e1jaro\u201d<\/a> and \u201cFlores,\u201d or the joyful nostalgia of \u201cLila Alel\u00ed\u201d \u2014 evoke the same bittersweet tenderness that marked Marchita<\/em>. But with Vendr\u00e1n Suaves Lluvias<\/em>, Estrada is bolder, wilder, more instinctual.<\/p>\n Writing this album, she says, was an exercise in confronting her anger and learning to wield it instead of trying to package it up. \u201cI think it\u2019s difficult for women to even acknowledge their anger sometimes,\u201d she says. \u201cSince the pinche<\/em> Greeks with the furies, an angry woman is an ugly woman. It feels like the right to be angry has almost been taken from us, and yet there\u2019s so much for us to be angry about.\u201d<\/p>\n Owning her anger gave her a greater sense of agency and self-determination. When she started looking for producers for the album, they either had notes on her vision or didn\u2019t quite get what she wanted, Estrada decided to produce it herself.<\/p>\n \u201cI was so lost I couldn\u2019t deal with having someone between me and the music,\u201d she says. \u201cI really believed in my vision, so it was a moment of empowerment, but also a lot of hesitation, and a lot of insecurity.\u201d<\/p>\n Estrada threw herself into the process, directing a band of seasoned musicians, giving orders to arrangers and engineers, all mostly men. For the 28-year-old, it was a massive adjustment. \u201cIt was scary, but I needed to do it not only for myself, but for other female artists and producers,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n In the end, Vendr\u00e1n Suaves Lluvias <\/em>was recorded in three different countries and five different studios. And while you wouldn\u2019t know it from listening to it, most of the vocals on the album are from Estrada\u2019s demo recordings. It was a three-year journey, but one full of discoveries and happy accidents made in the process of learning to trust herself and enjoy making music again.<\/p>\n \u201cI was just having fun, and I think that\u2019s what I\u2019m proudest of,\u201d she says. \u201cI got to produce this album and be me. Especially being a Latina, I think the whole world doubts us so much that sometimes I think we forget to enjoy ourselves. We forget why we do what we do.\u201d<\/p>\n A huge reference for Estrada was Joni Mitchell\u2019s Blue<\/em>. It wasn\u2019t just the raw emotion of the seminal album, but the feeling that Mitchell was plucking her guitar and pouring her heart out just a few feet away. Like Mitchell, Estrada has a knack for softening the sharp edges of our emotions and finding beauty in our ugly truths.<\/p>\n \u201cJoni creates a mirror where you see the real you, but it\u2019s so covered in beauty that you feel safe to reconcile with yourself,\u201d she says. \u201cWith this album, I\u2019m trying to reconcile these feelings of anger and pain, but I try my best to cover them with beauty so I can start to love them, too. I want<\/em> to love my anger, I want<\/em> to love my grief, I want<\/em> to love my pain, because it\u2019s who I am, it\u2019s part of me. I have to accept it, I have to give myself grace.\u201d<\/p>\n Best of Rolling Stone<\/strong><\/p>\n Sign up for RollingStone’s Newsletter<\/a>. For the latest news, follow us on Facebook<\/a>, Twitter<\/a>, and Instagram<\/a>.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n