It’s a sticky and schmoozy listen for the weirdos and outsiders as much as it is for the young couples curled up in the park at sunset.
While there’s nothing here that is overtly challenging, the album is consistently fun, complex and full of the right kind of vibe that it should keep your summer going long after September ends.
Singing in a mash-up of Spanish and English (“Spanglish”) his music feels intimate and honest, yet never takes itself too seriously.
Subtly sad, sweetly distorted and at times outright trippy, the result is perfect for long drives under summer skies.
The 21-year-old bedroom-pop artist’s major-label debut displays shaggy charm and an eclecticism that’s still confined to the more pleasant parts of the color wheel.
There are some lovely songs on Para Mi, though; you might just have to slog through some unfortunate synths and occasionally cringe-inducing lyrics to get there.
Removing the layers of fuzz leaves Cuco's multi-colored songwriting in clear view, revealing an artist still finding his way.
Few could deny that this record takes you to places altogether different.
Cuco harnesses his potential on Para Mi, an unguarded self-portrait that, from its unabashed confessionalism to its Spanglish lyrics, is inextricably tied to his identity.
While Para Mi fills the Cuco remit of synth-drenched relational eulogies, it fails to fulfil the experimentation Banos promised.
/ | WIRED |