Juancho Marqués, rooted in Sevilla and born in 1987, has moved beyond a single national rap persona to explore music that defies labels. His latest project arrives as an intimate, unguarded statement, a record that feels both fragile and precise. The album was crafted in a deliberately closed environment, and its live unveiling is scheduled for Saturday, January 27, at The One Room in San Vicente del Raspeig.
Alicante remains a constant stop on his touring circuit and a frequent festival backdrop. But what draws these cities back to him, year after year, in addition to the crowds that follow each city with anticipation?
It starts with the food—Alicante offers some of the finest cuisine in the country. On the music side, the Levante region and Alicante in particular have a warmth that makes performers feel at home. The audiences are genuinely participatory; they sing, they jump, they respond with energy and feedback. That kind of engagement becomes fuel for the show and a reason to return. For the artist, Alicante is not just a date on the calendar; it is a vital part of the touring experience and a meaningful, indispensable stop on the journey.
Heaven 39 marks a step forward in his artistic evolution, a project that broadens the reach of his musical expression into more sensitive and carefully detailed terrain. It speaks to a wider musical conception, one that centers on communication and emotional truth rather than merely a genre tag.
That is exactly how he frames it. The focus, he notes, is not the style so much as the message. Heaven 39 is a heartful piece about friendship, rooted in the memory of a street that was the creative anchor for the album. Releasing the work during a time of isolation turned the project into a shared experience that connected people and moments during the lockdown. The process has yielded a collection of experiences that permeate the songs and the spaces between them.
In these tracks, listeners get a window into his inner world. The music becomes a map of thought, a diary of days that felt both ordinary and extraordinary. As he explains, youth offers a certain freedom of exploration, time to experiment with new forms without the weight of heavy responsibilities. That freedom has sharpened his ability to express what he feels and to collaborate with artists from varied backgrounds. The result is a maturation of his writing and composition, a natural broadening of his artistic palette.
This growth is grounded in experience. The years spent making and listening have clarified priorities and sharpened the sense of purpose that guides each project. Heaven 39 thus emerges from a place of deliberate reflection, a starting point grounded in what has been learned and how it informs what comes next.
Even as his sound evolves, the national rap scene still places him within its fold. He is asked whether this is a positive alignment or a reminder that his presence might cast a longer shadow. He answers with clarity: being associated with the rap world remains a source of pride and identity. It matters who he is and where he comes from, and moving away from the urban label risks unnecessary comparisons that could diminish what he represents.
What kinds of comparisons does he anticipate? He notes that thoughts about vocal prowess often surface. While many singers excel technically, not everyone can connect through lyricism and storytelling in the way he does. For him, the power lies in writing and delivery that resonate with listeners, even if the sonics shift away from traditional rap conventions. The implication is that his career may continue to lean toward rap sensibilities even as his sound broadens and deepens.
Yes, the trajectory remains tied to rap in spirit. Looking ahead, his upcoming projects lean more toward rap than anything attempted in recent years, signaling a continued evolution of his voice within the broader genre framework.
The discussion also nods to the historical role he played in bringing rap into a wider Spanish audience. A generation earlier the genre was not as visible or mainstream as it is today. He stresses the importance of that ongoing legacy: the people who came before, and those who followed, all contributed to expanding the movement. From his vantage point, rap now touches all social strata, and that broadened reach makes his own contribution meaningful within a larger cultural shift.
What has music given him at its best? Freedom stands out as a central gift. The art form has allowed him to shape his life around the things he loves, to collaborate with people he respects, and to savor the opportunities that arise from hard work. That autonomy also freed him from an imposed timetable, letting life and art interlace in a more personal way.
And the tougher side of the coin? He speaks candidly about the darker moments—the times when depression, stress, and anxiety crept in under the weight of the journey. Music offered a comforting space, a refuge that helped him navigate those periods. He recognizes that those hardships became catalysts for growth and resilience, shaping who he is today.
What should audiences expect when they attend his Alicante concert? He believes the show will offer more than festival formats allow, a chance to reveal a broader palette of his work and to perform tracks from other albums as well. The emphasis will be on mutual respect and connection, with a deliberate effort to acknowledge the audience’s effort in attending. The approach aims for intimacy, weaving emotional moments into the live experience, and, whenever possible, stepping into the crowd to share in the moment and capture memories in photos with fans.
One point he raises is the absence of reserved VIP seating in many halls. He argues that the lack of a proscenium barrier helps preserve a sense of immediacy and direct communication with the audience. While acknowledging that this is a business model with its own logic, he argues that proximity matters. The active, unfiltered interaction between artist and listener is part of what makes live performances compelling, a dynamic that can be lost when the stage becomes a distant pedestal. Festivals carve their own path, he notes, but in clubs and intimate venues the effect of closeness is unmistakable, enhancing shared energy and the immediacy of the show.