Ileana Mercedes Cabra Joglar — better known as iLe — is no stranger to success, applause, and worldwide recognition.
Alongside her brothers René Pérez Joglar (Residente) and Eduardo Cabra (Visitante), iLe revolutionized Latin urban music as a member of Calle 13. The Puerto Rican group won 22 Latin GRAMMYs and three GRAMMYs, solidifying iLe's place as an influential figure in Latin music.
"I explored a lot, I developed my voice, and we had so much fun," recalls iLe, who joined the group at just 16 years old under the stage name PG-13, inspired by the film rating Parental Guidance 13. "With all that experience, there was no fear in saying goodbye; we each simply followed our own path."
After Calle 13 disbanded, iLe made her solo debut with iLevitable (2016), an album that earned her a Latin GRAMMY nomination for Best New Artist. That release was followed by Almadura (2019) and Nacarile (2022), where she collaborated with Mon Laferte, Ivy Queen, and Flor de Toloache, and also earned a Latin GRAMMY for Best Alternative Song.
On Oct. 22, iLe released Como las canto yo on October 22, a covers project dedicated to the boleros that have shaped her life. The album’s first single, "Un amor de la calle," was popularized by Héctor Lavoe in 1975. "It was a huge challenge because I tried to live up to those versions I’ve loved forever," confesses the artist, known for her fusion of traditional Caribbean music with influences of alternative pop and social awareness. "It’s a tribute to compositions I deeply respect."
In this new musical chapter, iLe takes an unexpected turn in her sound, leaving behind the political and feminist themes that characterized her previous albums — reflected in singles like "Contra todo" and "Temes" — to pay homage to emotion, interpretation, and the bolero tradition, infused with her signature sense of identity, memory, and feminine strength.
"There’s something we can at least try to do, and that’s to go out into the streets, share our message, and not be afraid," says iLe, who recently performed during Bad Bunny’s Puerto Rico residency, where she wore a dress inspired by Lolita Lebrón — a Puerto Rican independence leader who fought for her country’s freedom and became a symbol of resistance and national pride. "I feel that many struggles, not only in Puerto Rico but in other parts of the world, have seen their greatest victories and changes led by women."
Among the female voices that inspired this new bolero project is the legendary La Lupe, whose music her father introduced her to during her teenage years. "When I first heard her songs, I completely melted — it was like, wow: so much passion, so much intensity, so much interpretation... It was overwhelming," she recalls. iLe also admires other icons of Cuban music such as Olga Guillot and Blanca Rosa Gil. "Little by little, I kept discovering more and more voices, and I still know there’s a lot left to learn, but it’s been beautiful to simply appreciate their styles."
With her signature authenticity, iLe hopes that new generations will rediscover and embrace bolero, uncovering its emotional depth. "Even though these songs were written in another era, they still resonate with what we live today. It’s beautiful to reconnect with that more poetic way of telling stories. We shouldn’t forget the past, but rather transform and adapt it to the present."
And if there’s anyone who hasn’t forgotten her past, it’s iLe. The artist spoke with GRAMMY.com about her family, accomplishments and Como las canto yo — with which she hopes listeners will be moved and give themselves permission to feel whatever they please.
How would you describe this professional moment you’re living right now?
I love seeing how I’ve evolved over the years. I keep growing in art, creativity, and musical experiences. It’s always beautiful to appreciate that evolution, both in the process and in the projects themselves.
I feel grateful to continue doing what I love the most, and now I’m super excited about this new album. It was kind of unexpected for me, but I’m truly happy with how it turned out and that it exceeded my own expectations.
Why was this new album such an unexpected project?
It was something I kept putting off for some reason. This year I’ve been working on music, but I feel that my original songs are taking more time right now. Then suddenly I thought, Hey, maybe I can make this album, because in my mind I kept postponing it. I think this was the perfect moment to do it.
Normally, I take my time with everything, but this time was different. I chose the songs quickly, I already knew the intention behind the album, and we recorded it in a very short time. It felt like one of those moments when you’ve been holding something inside, and when you finally let it out, it just flows.
What was the most challenging part of making it?
I think the hardest part was deciding how the arrangements would sound in terms of instrumentation. Many of the boleros I love have big orchestras, and I adore that energy. But there are others that are the complete opposite — super intimate, just with guitar — that have a very special kind of magic. I didn’t want to choose only one approach, because I wanted the album to feel balanced. So we decided to experiment mostly with guitars.
I was nervous because I didn’t want it to lose the essence of the songs I love or sound like something completely different. But as we started experimenting, I began to find the right tone. It was a real challenge to find that balance within the guitar textures: the way it’s played, the style, and how many layers to use on each song.
Do you have a favorite song?
I love them all, but there’s one that really stands out for me: "Piénsalo bien." I based it on the version by Bobby Valentín featuring Marvin Santiago, which was originally recorded with an orchestra. My band’s guitarist, Alberto Rosario, created a new arrangement using electric guitars, and I love how it feels modern, almost psychedelic. The atmosphere he created with the guitar really surprised me.
It was one of the songs I had the hardest time picturing, and when I heard the final version, it was like, Wow. The process and the outcome gave me a lot of satisfaction because it took me by surprise. So I always say that one’s my favorite, although honestly, I love them all.
How do you think you’ll connect yesterday with today?
Through emotions. I think it’s like when we talk to our grandparents and they tell us stories, and we’re captivated, imagining a movie in our minds. That feeling is beautiful because it reminds us of the importance of connection. And I don’t mean waiting for extreme situations — like a blackout or a crisis — to reconnect, but rather giving value back to connection itself: going to a little bar to listen to music, having a long conversation, enjoying time at the table after a meal… all those things matter.
Even though we’re immersed in a digital world, I’ve noticed that new generations are also trying to reconnect with other times, to adapt them to the present. There’s an almost instinctive need to return to vinyl, to textures, to the things that make us feel and connect. Emotion is something we can’t take for granted — it sustains us. I feel it’s essential to remember that we’re alive, and music and art remind us of that; they connect us to our emotions in unexpected ways. To me, that’s incredibly valuable.
What would you like people to feel when they listen to Como las canto yo for the first time?
I hope listeners can get even a glimpse of what I feel when I hear these songs — because I listen to them often. For me, they’re like moments I need to pause and breathe. Boleros invite you to that: to slow down, to give yourself permission to move at a gentler, softer rhythm amid all the noise and rush of today’s world.
How do you manage to keep a balance between the social message and your music? How do you bring them together?
I just do the best I can. Emotions are always there, accompanying me, protecting me in a way. Sometimes that translates in different forms. I simply do what I feel, what comes from my soul and my heart. It doesn’t come from a selfish place; quite the opposite, it’s a space where I also search for my own connection to truth.
Sometimes we feel alone in certain things, and it’s not until we say them out loud or express them that we realize we’re not as alone as we thought. Sharing what we feel is about that — daring to express ourselves so we can connect more deeply with others, instead of keeping emotions bottled up. Music is that tool that helps me understand, process, and accompany so many of the experiences we live through, wherever we are.
What would you say has been your biggest act of boldness?
I’m not sure I can point to one single thing, but I do notice that sometimes I do things that seem small to me, yet to others they might look bold. For instance, standing in solidarity with what’s happening in other countries shouldn’t be considered an act of bravery. Feeling empathy or showing support shouldn’t be seen as something risky.
I believe that kind of connection is part of the familiarity we should all have as citizens of the world — seeking and finding companionship and empathy among each other. I’ve spoken openly about things that not everyone dares to say, but to me, it’s the least I can do when there are countries or communities going through difficult times.
How did you first get started in music?
I come from a big family, and I was the youngest in the house where we grew up — the house on Calle 13. There was always music at home, and being the little one, I absorbed everything my mom, dad, grandmother, brother, and sister listened to. As I got older, I started discovering my own music, but deep down, what played around the house was always there. I learned to appreciate and enjoy it in my own way.
There was a piano at home, and I started playing it; I also loved to sing. Music always felt natural to me, so much so that I somehow knew I would dedicate my life to it. I didn’t know how, but I just felt it. Since I was the youngest, my brothers would sometimes ask me to do things or sing a certain way, and I would just do it.
At home, Eduardo was making music, and René was writing rap, so it made perfect sense for me to join in. I was singing anyway, and when they invited me to be part of the group, it felt like taking what we already did as a family to another level. I spent 10 years touring with Calle 13 while still going to school. I was sixteen when it all started.
It’s not very common to let a 16-year-old go off like that.
The trust really came from the fact that we were all family — they were my brothers. My mom was always very watchful, though, and during the first trips my older sister came with me. She also worked on the project, and we shared a room during the tours.
What was your sister’s role in the group?
She worked with René on developing the group’s concept and also handled some of the public relations in the beginning. Since she traveled with us, she took care of me a lot in those early years. Later, as I got older, things just started happening more naturally.
How was the transition for you when you said goodbye to your brothers professionally?
I always compare it to when everyone in a family lives together and then each one goes off to college. It just feels natural. Those 10 years were intense — non-stop — and I think we all needed time to explore ourselves and discover new things. That was healthy. Each of us followed our own path, but we’ve stayed connected. We all know what the others are up to and see each other often.
Our relationship hasn’t changed; the only difference is that we no longer live under the same roof. When we can, we make sure to spend time together. It’s beautiful because we’re constantly reminded of how special our childhood was and how it all began. That family love has never changed, and I think we owe a lot of that to my mom, who always made sure to keep us close.
What would you say to young women who dream of living from music or pursuing any other passion?
It’s complicated, because there are so many obstacles along the way. But I think it’s about learning to juggle them, to move through discomfort without giving up. Instead of seeing obstacles as limitations, you have to find a way to move through them, to play with them — because yes, it’s not easy.
It all comes down to trusting yourself, even in the moments when you don’t fully believe in yourself but keep going anyway. It’s a constant process of movement, of adapting, of not stopping. Intuition is also very powerful; you have to stay tuned to it, let it guide you, and find your own way to reach what you truly want.
What would you say to that younger iLe who started listening to La Lupe and all those artists your dad introduced you to? What would you tell her now about what you’ve accomplished?
With this album, I’d tell her we did it, because it’s something I’d wanted to do since back then. And just — don’t give up, keep pushing forward.