Star behind breakout hits “Ultra Solo” and “Baby Otaku” discusses the rise of Chilean reggaeton, his new album, +Quality, and his lifelong journey back to Africa

Chilean reggaeton is everywhere. Back in 2022, Cris MJ’s ”Una Noche en Medellín” went so immensely viral it caught the eye of Colombian perreo queen Karol G, who eventually drafted him for a remix that swelled with new life on her blockbuster LP Mañana Será Bonito (Bichota Season). MJ again popped up on last year’s summer smash, “Gata Only,” propelled into the stratosphere by rising star FloyyMenor and his warbled, not-always-sensical wordplay, even landing on President Barack Obama’s famed end-of-year playlist. While this recent string of chart-toppers has drawn industry eyes to the southern hemisphere, perhaps the most consistent and established talent out of Chile’s thriving música urbana zeitgeist is Polimá Westcoast. Boasting co-signs from global icons like J Balvin and Dua Lipa, the Santiago native has parlayed the freshness of Chilean slang into the mainstream reggaeton lexicon, and an eagerness to reconnect with his African roots is also spurring curiosity and constant innovation.

Born to a Chilean mother and Angolan father, Polimá Westcoast recalls writing songs as early as nine years old, gradually honing slick bars and a distinctive, high-pitched timber. He made a name for himself in the infancy of Chile’s trap scene, releasing two popular mixtapes in 2018 and finding one of his earliest allies in ShiShi Gang godfather, Pablo Chill-E. Subsequent releases swerved into plugg and electro, teaming up with fellow scene trailblazers Young Cister, Nvscvr, and Gianluca, and in 2022, his avid genre hopping produced the inescapable reggaeton anthem, “Ultra Solo,” algonside rapper Pailita. The song’s sorrowful lonerism helped usher a new era of introspection in Chilean reggaeton, and the unusually sped-up beat prompted Latin trap architect Arcangel to advise Westcoast to make it his sonic signature.

Despite the sage council, Polimá Westcoast remains hellbent on pushing the sonic boundary, and his new album, +Quality, which he underscores as his official full-length debut, is a dizzying musical cornucopia. Throwing it back to his plugg origins on jittery album opener, “Forever,” diving into the uber trendy waters of U.K. garage for “Made in Italy,” and lovingly embracing Afrobeats with an assist from Nigerian producer Daramola on “Gen Z;” +Quality lives up to the exceedingly high ambitions of its title.

Ahead of the release, Rolling Stone caught up with Polimá Westcoast to discuss the tidal wave of Chilean reggaeton, the international production team behind +Quality, and the many dreams of “a lost African, born on the other side of the world.”

I grew up with my [Chilean] mother and grandmother, who are white, and I lost all contact with the African side of my family from about four years old, when my father left. I longed to have Afro people by my side, and though my mom told me I had brothers and sisters, I didn’t live with them. When I was 15, I tracked down my siblings through Facebook, and now, together, we live this dream of music. The hardest part was being an Afro man in a society where our race is not predominant. Getting people to acknowledge our place has been difficult because Chile hasn’t developed to a point where they have Black people in politics or whatever. But when I reconnected with my brothers and sisters they awoke that African side in me and I better understood the colors and textures of my voice and musicality.

Not directly in how I sing, but more in the sentimental themes of my music. I actually looked to [Nigerian artist] Wizkid and the Afrobeats movement, speeding up the “Ultra Solo” beat to make a fairly normal reggaeton track feel more like my own. I’ve been writing songs since I was nine or 10 years old, but I got tired of squeezing lyrics into instrumentals, so I switched to a freestyle approach, which is how I did “Ultra Solo” [feat. Pailita], “Baby Otaku” [feat. J Balvin], and “LACONE” [with Mora and Quevedo]. I once saw a documentary about a painter who said he just dumped paint on a canvas until it was done, so I decided to start doing the same.

My first hit was called “BrokeBoi,” from a mixtape called Las Crónicas de Ngangu (from 2018), which brought me some internet fame. Later came “Te Quiero Ver” [with Ceaese], a song with a more rudeboy, dancehall vibe, followed by “Esto No Es Una Canción de Amor,” with Gianluca and Young Cister. The success of those songs thrust me into the mainstream and acquainted audiences with my face and sound.

Before “Ultra Solo” became a hit, I met this [Spanish] actor called Arón Piper, back when he was on the show Élite, and he’d play my songs for the cast. His co-star, Ester Expósito, started sharing my songs on her socials, and “Ultra Solo” eventually became a hit in Madrid. I think that’s how it reached Dua Lipa, who posted some pictures with the caption “ultrasolo” and shared the song on her Instagram stories. I recorded the song at Duki’s studio, and we were actually supposed to link up that day but he had Covid, so he gave me the keys and I went in by myself. But the emotion behind “Ultra Solo” was real. My producer and I were feeling down because it was our first time spending Christmas away from our families, and people around the world related to that loneliness.

It’s very true. I mean, folk and indie are very important to Chilean audiences, with artists like Gepe, Fran [Valenzuela], Gianluca, etc. But trap united all different social classes. Everyone consumed it. During El Estallido, people would refer to trap as “real,” and we’d respond that if they liked how real it was, they should come fight with us in the streets. We played everywhere from Providencia to Puente Alto, and we were in the middle of a war. There’s a newfound sense of camaraderie after all that. Our fans feel close to us and know that if they ask for help we’ll show up. 

The industry feeds off new ideas and sounds, and Chile has something new to offer. Our language is very characteristic. “Ultra Solo” made everyone speed up their reggaeton, and “My Blood” brought [Andean] folklore into trap. So I think we contributed something that wasn’t happening yet. Pablo Chill-E, Gianluca, and so many others brought new ideas to trap and reggaeton that the international industry saw value in us. One day J Balvin asked me to send over three songs because he’d like to jump on one, and that became “Baby Otaku.” When Karol G liked [Cris MJ’s] “Una Noche en Medellín,” that was another huge moment. Now we’re charting around the world. Competing with Taylor Swift isn’t easy, but here we are.

There are only two guest features on your new album +Quality, and just as many reggaeton tracks. What caused you to change course so radically?
My mom always told me it’s about quality, not quantity, and that stuck with me throughout this process. I’m already consecrated in my country and I’m taking my career to a much more massive place, so I wanted to present a personal album that showcased me and my evolution. There are only two features and both flowed naturally. Bhavi and I are great friends, and C.R.O knows me from the beginning of my career. I dropped both songs last year before [the festival] Buenos Aires Trap because I wanted to roll up with heavy hitters, but there’s only two reggaeton tracks on the album and the rest gets into Jersey club, U.K. garage, and Afrobeats.

Who are the producers that helped you achieve +Quality’s wide array of genres and motifs?
There was a lot of searching for new sounds, so I collaborated with many producers. Taiko from Chile worked on “It’s OK,” and he encouraged me to step away from auto-tune to highlight the uniqueness of my voice. A Jamaican producer called IzyAreYouKiddingMe, who’s produced a bunch for Rauw Alejandro, helped me dig into afro-house on “+ Henny.” It was very important to me to work with a producer from Africa, so for “Gen Z,” I brought in Daramola, who’s Nigerian and helped me dig into Afrobeats. I also worked with Eugenics, who’s produced for Lil Durk and Trippie Redd, and we created “Made in Italy” and “Todas Las chicas Mienten,” which are major highlights of the record.

Where are your career and this whole adventure leading you?
I hope my career takes me around the world. I want my music to be played in Japan. I want to reach Africa and reconnect with my roots. Maybe even shoot a documentary. I’m a lost African, born on the other side of the world. I need to stand barefoot on the continent of Africa. I want to see how far some kid born in Independencia, Santiago, can go.