.png)
There’s a moment before the music starts at Hoy Como Ayer when the room feels like it’s remembering itself. Brown leather couches, people easing into the night with drinks and plates of food, croquetas still warm, tostones crisp with salt, something fried, something sweet. A red neon sign reads the name of the place like an oracle, casting a soft glow over a low stage that feels closer to a living room than a venue. Along the wood-paneled walls, black-and-white portraits of Latin music legends like Celia Cruz, Benny Moré, and The Fania All Stars watch over the room like quiet witnesses that have seen everything and are curious what you’ll do next.
By the time Mr. Pauer starts laying down his signature Latin house blend DJ set, people are trickling in unhurriedly. Some already wearing Golosa shirts and hats from the exclusive tour merch displayed at the patio. It’s not packed, but there’s a sense that this isn’t going to be a passive night.
I’m nursing an espresso Martini, caffeine and alcohol, a very Golosa combination. I turn to the girl next to me, Cicii, originally from the Dominican Republic. She tells me she discovered Letón Pé on Instagram a couple of months ago. Curious about her fellow homegirl, she checked out her album and felt represented.
“Me gusta porque no tengo que darle skip”, she says.
Simple. No skips. That’s a review in itself.
Rey Rodriguez’s band gets people in the mood with some sneak peeks from his upcoming new album, and when Letón Pé steps onto the stage, the energy instantly goes wild.
A cascade of curls, satin snake-print top, denim shorts layered over tights, black boots, and a blood-red ballerina skirt, or maybe a feathered suggestion of one, hovering somewhere between playful and dangerous. The stage is low, almost unnecessary. She’s already among us.
“Hoy yo, Leticia, prometo servir,” she says, smiling, “pero me tienen que dar a cambio apetito.”
Tonight is a transaction. She’ll give everything, but only if the room is hungry enough to receive it.
And then she starts. Not cautiously, not gradually. Full-on voracious. The kind of hunger that doesn’t save anything for later.
Her set moves fast, high energy, tight choreography, a kind of controlled chaos that feels rehearsed but also natural. She prompts us to get closer, and even closer. She jumps on and off the stage, dissolving the distance between performer and crowd, even in a space that’s already intimate. “¿Quién vino solo esta noche?” she asks.
A few hands go up, Cicii among them, shouting “¡yo, yo!”
“Me encanta. That’s so main character,” Letón laughs. Then, shifting tone just enough, she adds, “Esta canción es para las personas que saben cuándo es mejor estar solas que mal acompañadas”.
“Bailo Pa’ Mí” lands as a small declaration of independence and pleasure. The room responds instantly. People sing along, shouting “¡Suéltalo!”
There’s humor threaded through everything. Self-awareness. She reflects on her early days performing in weddings and restaurants, building her craft piece by piece.
“Antes, cuando no sabía lo que estaba haciendo…” She pauses, then smiles, “Bueno… en verdad todavía no sé lo que estoy haciendo.”
The room laughs.
Then she pivots, “Aunque uno no sepa cuál es el destino, es responsabilidad de todos nosotros pellizcar el presente… porque eso es lo único que hay.”
That’s the core of it. Beneath the play, the movement, the heat, there’s intention. Presence. A refusal to dilute.
Backed by a minimal but precise setup, Ray Contreras on percussion, and producer Julián Bernal on guitar and programming, the sound feels expansive without needing excess. Giacomo Bacigalupo, introduced by Letón as a good Miami friend, jumped in as guest guitar for a couple of songs. Bernal, the sole producer of her latest album, “Golosa” (2026), helps shape a sonic world where tropical rhythms meet synthetic textures without losing their pulse.
After the show, Carlos Aybar, CEO of Mishu Music and part of the team behind Escala Sonora, talks about her relentless work ethic, rehearsing choreography, refining every movement, building something that looks effortless but clearly isn’t. A foundation shaped by years of performing, from New York musical theater to weddings and restaurant gigs, long before the spotlight caught up. Aybar’s company, based in Miami, produces festivals like Isle of Light in Santo Domingo and House of Creatives, helping shape the circuit this night belongs to.
Offstage, Letón Pé is the same person. Funny. Open. Unapologetically herself.
She celebrated her birthday in Miami the night before the show, with a princess tiara and a giant steak, perfectly on brand. The next day, she flies back to Santo Domingo to close the tour’s final stop, eager to return, not quite ready for it to end. When I mention that seeing her in a space as intimate as Hoy Como Ayer feels like catching something on the edge of expansion, she doesn’t hesitate. In a low stage or a festival, she feels equally at home.
We talk briefly about Golosa.
For her, the album opens into a universe. A parallel space where she can push the idea further, play with it, stretch it. When I tell her I once ran a gallery called APPETITE, she lights up:
“So you know what I’m talking about,” she says. “Eres una golosa.”
And maybe that’s the point.
“Golosa” doesn’t translate cleanly into English. It gestures toward indulgence, appetite, desire, excess, sweetness, but none of those words fully land. In her world, it feels closer to permission. To want more. To take up space. To feel without editing.
On a night like this, in a room that holds decades of Latin music history, that energy doesn’t clash with the past; it extends it, pulling the lineage forward, threading Santo Domingo into Miami, recoding the room with her blend of Afro Caribbean rhythm, jazz instinct, electronic edge, and alternative pop attitude, a sound that feels both rooted and newly minted.
If Hoy Como Ayer is memory, Letón Pé is momentum.
And on a Thursday night on Calle Ocho, in a room just intimate enough to feel like a secret, the deal she offered at the beginning held up. The room showed up hungry. She delivered.
Brought by Escala Sonora, the night is part of a growing circuit in Miami that’s carving out space for artists who don’t fit neatly into categories. Upcoming shows, including California-based indie rock band Inner Wave at ZeyZey, continue to build that bridge between scenes, cities, and sounds.
No restraint. No half measures. Just appetite.
Written by Daniela Luna @AppetiteDreams
.png)
