Maluma’s world domination
Colombian-born Latin-music sensation Maluma is leaning into being the biggest pop star imaginable. And wow, is it working
Sure, in the digital age , there’re ways to quantify the fame of pop singer Maluma: he has 49.3 million followers on Instagram, for example. (Harry Styles has 26.3 million; John Legend has 11.8 million.) And on Youtube, his videos have been viewed 13 billion times. But his stardom – the pure global reach of it – still has a way of beguiling him.
The 26-year-old’s telling me this while perched in a makeup chair in Toronto, where he’s in town for yet another sold-out show. A few days before, he was playing at Madison Square Garden in New York. He stepped out of his hotel and found a throng waiting for him. That part didn’t shock him; he’s gotten used to the crowds. But this particular group told him they’d flown in from China – a place Maluma didn’t even realise his music had reached. They’d come just to see him.
‘They were like, “We’re huge fans!”’ Maluma recalls, ‘and I was like, “What the fuck?” And they said, “Yeah, you have a huge fan base in China.” They were telling me, “You have to come. It’s a big deal. We came to New York for your show because you never come,”’ Maluma remembers, seeming genuinely thankful for the heads-up about his rockstar status in the world’s most populous country. ‘I said, “Oh, fuck – sorry! I’m coming soon.”’
That night, Maluma hinted at another grand new ambition when he brought out a secret guest: Jennifer Lopez, with whom he’ll star in his film debut, Marry Me, due out this year. He talks about Lopez breathlessly and says that ‘at the musical level, there’s been a big connection’ between the two of them. And he says he’s thankful to her, of course, for handpicking him for his first shot at movies. In plenty of ways, the Hollywood role is a fitting brand extension for a star who’s built his reputation on suave charisma – and who’s sent three albums skyrocketing to the top of the Billboard Latin charts.
There’s a throwback quality to Maluma, who may have more in common with the hitmaking pop idols of the early 2000s than with his contemporaries like Bad Bunny and J Balvin, artists known for their edginess and experimentalism. Maluma’s sounds are more unabashedly commercial. And absurdly popular.
His fourth release, 11:11, which came out last year, featured collaborations with Ricky Martin, Ty Dolla $ign, and most notable of all, Madonna. The pair also broke the internet with the video for their song “Medellín”, an ode to Maluma’s hometown, which featured scenes of Madonna licking the young singer’s toes.
‘I don’t care,’ Maluma says, laughing. ‘I think it’s stories like this you’ll take to the grave – things I’ll tell my kids and my grandkids about.’
leaning back in his chair , Maluma’s wearing dark sunglasses, even though it’s early evening. His tattoos curl out from beneath a black vest, and he’s wearing a pair of neon-orange pants borrowed from the set of a photoshoot – they were comfortable, so he kept them on. In person, he’s as striking as he appears »
on his neatly curated Instagram account; even the words coming out of his mouth are poised and pretty. ‘I’m a moral person. My life is my family,’ he says at one point. Later, he calls himself a dreamer and says he practises gratitude every morning. ‘I don’t ask God for anything,’ he offers. ‘I just thank Him for the good and not-sogood experiences that end up being lessons.’
He’s leaned into this charming persona since he started as a 17-yearold singer, hamming it up for girls at local shows. He originally had ambitions of becoming a professional soccer player, but pursued music instead. He changed his given name – Juan Luis Londoño Arias – for the stage moniker Maluma in tribute to his family
(he says the name is an amalgamation of the first two letters of his mother’s, father’s, and sister’s names).
Quickly, the name spread across the country as Maluma released songs that became local hits.
His sound was a lighter, commercial version of reggaeton, the urban genre developed by black communities in Panama and Puerto Rico. By 2016, he was blending trap and hip-hop and cultivating an image as a sometimes risqué romantic. At times, the stylistic changes proved difficult for his fans. His song “Cuatro Babys” is about a man who can’t choose between four women. It rattled listeners so much that one woman in Spain launched a petition, demanding the track be removed from digital platforms. Maluma continued on his provocative streak with “Felices Los 4”, an ode to a polyamorous affair.
But he’s not afraid to talk about his most controversial songs. ‘I liked them,’ he says simply. ‘I didn’t do them because I had to. No one took me into the studio and said, “Yo, you have to record this.” I was like, “I want to sing that. Fuck it. I’m not in love with four babies, but I want to say I’m in love with four babies.”’ Plus, the songs were commercial hits that set Maluma on his track toward global fame.
Now he’s worked with everyone from Steve
Aoki to Jason Derulo to Shakira, connecting with eclectic audiences all over the world.
Of course, flitting between the worlds Of pop and urban music is a harder sell for reggaeton purists and artists. Bad Bunny once tweeted a verse from the Puerto Rican artist Anuel AA, declaring, “Nunca flow Maluma, siempre REAL G.” Roughly translated, the sentiment describes having “real flow” and not “flow Maluma” – a dig at his radio-friendly delivery.
But Maluma seems selfaware when it comes to the reaction that the softer musical style and the earnest-romantic persona can elicit. When he collaborated with J Balvin for the song “Qué Pena”, the two of them started the video by making fun of each other. Balvin puckers his lips and blows kisses at himself in a mirror before reciting Maluma’s signature line: “Maluma, baby.”
The back-and-forth was surprising since rumours of a rivalry had trailed the two artists for so long. ‘I never felt anything bad towards him, but all the attention on the genre and people created this tension between us,’ Maluma says of Balvin, noting that their backgrounds growing up in Medellín and performing popreggaeton made it easy for the industry to pit them against each other. Eventually, they talked things over.
The supposed feud, in the end, seemed petty in the face of more existential industry dilemmas that Maluma encountered. As his profile rose, he was pushed into following the footsteps of stars like Ricky Martin and Shakira and recording songs in English. Maluma is fluent, but he didn’t want to change the language in which he’d always sung. ‘They wanted me to be like the version of another American artist. But I’m not the version of anyone. I’m me and I’ve worked hard for people to know me for that, for my own essence, for me as an artist.’ He says he recorded six or seven songs in English, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever release them. ‘I don’t feel that connected. Every time I sing in English, it feels like I’m reading.’
His goal is simple and straightforward. ‘I want to be recognised in the world as a Latino and as an artist from Colombia who sings in Spanish. I want to break barriers in Spanish with my language, with who I am, and with my essence. I think I don’t need to sing in English for people to like my music,’ he explains, offering that he’s gotten better at tuning out the opinions and voices of others and following his own instincts.
Another reason Maluma is less willing to compromise these days is practical: he’s realising how valuable – and limited – his time now is. Touring constantly, he’s coming up with lyrics in hotels, in cars, and on his plane, which he bought to travel more comfortably. When I ask him how often he writes, he eyes his phone cautiously before eventually reaching over to grab it. ‘Right now,
I was about to put down an idea that I just got on my phone, but I said no because I felt, like, [that would be] disrespectful [to] you,’ he says, opening the Notes app.
Despite it all – the constant demands of work and travel and the pressures of booming popularity – Maluma insists he’s a laid-back family guy. ‘I’d rather stay at home, listen to music, drink good wine and talk about life,’ he says.
He tries to create a sense of home by bringing his family on the road with him, but balancing this with the growing demands of his career can be challenging, he says, motioning with his chin toward an adjoining room. ‘My dad’s over there,’ he tells me,
‘but I’ve barely seen him.’ Meanwhile, in Orlando, Florida, fans are already gearing up for the next packed show.