INTERVIEW WITH SEÑORA

“Práctica de Límites” is a bold meditation on thresholds—geographical, sonic, and emotional. With roots in the political realities of imagined borders and the deeply personal process of creative transformation, this album by Señora invites listeners to reflect on where limits begin and dissolve. While not overtly didactic, it carries the weight of global tensions, refracted through experimental soundscapes that oscillate between mechanical precision and human imperfection. From reversed vocal fragments to unconventional rhythmic structures, Práctica de Límites is both a continuation of the introspective tone set by the artist’s previous album Fósil, and a forward-facing dive into a more kinetic, danceable language—one that never lets go of its emotional depth.

1. How does living in Berlin influence your perception of cultural and sonic borders?

The idea of Berlin as an artistic haven has been discussed to the point of cliché and understandably so. But we also have to recognize that today's Berlin isn't the Berlin of the '70s or '80s. That said, I still feel there's a unique cultural undercurrent here, a kind of organized anarchy that fosters genuine multicultural exchange. There's a small but powerful niche that survives, offering space for diverse perspectives to meet and coexist. That convergence draws in artists with distinct visions, which inevitably shapes and challenges your own. It’s an inspiring environment, though certainly not the only source I draw from.

2. Práctica de Límites feels like a journey through thresholds. What personal “limits” did you explore while making it?

In the production process, every artist should be trying to push their own boundaries, to do something disruptive or unfamiliar. Many of those limits are internal, shaped by all the music we've absorbed since childhood. They provide a foundation, but they can also become constraints. With Práctica de Límites, I was exploring those personal thresholds, looking for the cracks where familiar structures begin to break down, where I could let go of inherited concepts and allow something unexpected, maybe even uncomfortable, to emerge. That’s the kind of risk that feels meaningful to me.

3. Does each track represent a different kind of boundary—physical, emotional, stylistic?

Each track explores a different kind of boundary, yes. But not in a literal or fixed way. Whether through rhythm, distortion, atmosphere, or melody, I pushed certain elements further than I might have in the past, taking them to a kind of edge, where they brush against what's typically perceived as musically “normal” or tonally stable. That was the exercise, as the EP’s title “Práctica de Límites” suggests: practical studies in limitation and transgression. My hope is that these explorations lay the groundwork for even more refined or radical compositions in the future.

4. How do natural sounds—storms, howlings, chants—shape the album’s atmosphere?

These kinds of sounds have always played an important role in shaping the atmosphere of my music. I think it’s quite clear that my productions pull elements from a wide range of places. On my album Fósil, for example, I used bells, screams, even goat sounds. Tonally, these sources often contain hidden surprises, frequencies and harmonics that, when emphasized or manipulated, reveal completely new textures. With today’s tools, we can sculpt these raw sounds into something deeply musical. That approach continues in this EP. Sometimes more overt, sometimes buried within the mix, waiting to be discovered.

5. What relationship do you want listeners to have with discomfort?

Whatever relationship they choose to have. This is simply my proposal, and everyone is free to engage with it in their own way. I wouldn’t say discomfort was ever my goal but if someone feels it, maybe that reaction has something to say too. 

6. What’s the connection between the body and rhythm in your compositions?

I think the rhythms we create are deeply tied to our own physical and emotional sensitivity. As producers, we shape them intuitively, testing and refining until they trigger a physical response, until something in our body reacts, even subtly. Each artist has a unique relationship with rhythm, and what we ultimately present is our personal perception of how movement and sound are connected.

7. What artists or thinkers helped inspire the more philosophical aspects of this release?

It’s always tricky to answer this kind of question, I’m sure I’ll leave out names that were important without even realizing it. But if I had to name a few who directly or indirectly influenced the more philosophical side of this release, I’d mention Mark Fisher, Ilan Pappé, a couple of close friends and even figures like Pepe Mujica. And then, of course, there’s a long list of artists. Some contemporary, some from 70 years ago whose work continues to echo in subtle ways through what I do.

8. Could you imagine an acoustic version of Práctica de Límites, or is it bound to electricity?

Absolutely, I can imagine an acoustic version. “Práctica de Límites”was born through electricity, but translating it into an acoustic setting would be an exciting challenge and one that could reveal unexpected dimensions of the music. Considering the times we're living in, and the growing uncertainty around energy, maybe it’s not such a bad idea to start thinking about projects that don’t rely on electricity at all :)

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