Doris Anahí Muñoz Speaks About Her Journey From Manager to Artist

Doris Anahí is sitting in a cafe in Mexico City, talking to Rolling Stonee on the phone, when a small hummingbird perches directly in front of him and waves its wings. “My ancestors used to say, ‘What is it!'” He said with a laugh. He was in Mexico for a few weeks; he first came to Guadalajara and spends time working on music and interacting with the family. that moment like this always happens: He sees an animal or some kind of symbol in nature, and he treats it as a sign from the universe – a little nod from his elders – proving that he is exactly if where he should be. “I feel like, Mulan and my ancestors are around me, and they say, ‘Yes. OK. You’re on the right track.'”

Anahí has ​​already made several paths in the music industry. Known to most people as Doris Muñoz (her full name is Doris Anahí Muñoz), she worked as an activist and organizer, creating the popular Selena for Sanctuary concert series to help undocumented individuals raise funds. money for visa petitions through Selena Quintanilla -themed fundraisers. The idea started because of Anahí’s personal experience: She was the only person in her family to be born in the US, and in 2017, she did everything she could to help her parents pay the legal fees for in their green-card applications. She threw the first Selena for Sanctuary at a club in Los Angeles and raised approximately $ 6,000. Realizing he could help more, the event continued to grow, eventually going to Lincoln Center in New York in 2018, with headliners Mon Laferte and Omar Apollo, and eventually SummerStage in Central Park in 2019, with presentation from Kali Uchis and Helado Negro.

All the while, Anahí was building an amazing talent company called mija mgmt that made big waves in the Latinx music scene. Her roster includes works such as Inner Wave, August Eve, La Doña, and, perhaps most of all, Cuco, who signed a seven-figure deal with Interscope in 2019. Anahí has ​​been a label executive-but few who knows she is carrying serious talent as a singer. Everything changed last year, when he decided to move away from the world of management and head into his own artistic career. “I actually removed Hannah Montana’s wig,” she joked.

Now, he is preparing to launch Learning by the Malas, a meticulous EP that combines traditional bolero melodies, ranchera influences, and R&B and indie rock. One of the most impressive moments of the project was the emotional title track, which is being released today along with a baroque music video directed by Ambar Navarro.

But the music coincides with another piece of big news. In 2019, he was approached by Mexican American filmmaker Isabel Castro, who was interested in telling a story about the Latinx indie-music world that Anahí orbited. They started shooting before the pandemic, and by the end of 2021, they had done it Mijaa heartbreaking, beautifully shot documentary that follows Anahí as she tries to balance her professional life and the well-being of her family amid the uncertainty caused by Covid-19. Mija premiered to favorable reviews at Sundance in January, and then in March, Disney Original Documentary acquired the global rights to the film. (FX, which is under Walt Disney Co., will retain the rights to develop scripted content based on the project.)

Anahí has ​​been trembling ever since she found out. He said he and Castro didn’t even want to hope about Sundance; he couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to be picked up by Disney. Mija, she feels, has found the right home: “It’s no longer like princesses waiting for their prince,” she explains. “Today, it seems like these strong daughters are trying to heal the generational trauma and the wounds of their family. I think, like, brave, and I think Moana, and I think Charm. Someone said, ‘Yeah, you’re part of that story, too,’ and I was like, ‘Oh, shit.’ ”

I noticed that in one of our conversations, he dropped the names of Disney characters like Mulan, Hannah Montana, and Moana, and he immediately burst out laughing: “Oh, my God, that wasn’t accidental, I swear. This is because it is literally what I want. This is what raised me. ” Her brother often took care of her and threw Disney movies to entertain her when she was young. During those times, he also began to love music. Growing up, he sang in church, played saxophone in the school band, and violin in the school orchestra. He choir in high school, and dreamed about Juilliard. In college, he majored in musical theater and communications, but decided to pursue the music business once the doors began to open wide for him. “I found myself backstage and behind the scenes and working on these shows,” he said. “I ended up in the music industry for quite some time and I felt like I did not allowed sing more. I feel like I will be judged for it, or that people will think I have, like, ulterior motives, when I’m really committed to supporting the artistry of others. I was like, ‘How can I, like, have space for both?’ ”

The pandemic changed things drastically. The tour stopped, and he and Cuco parted ways. A halt in his management career gave him some time to make new plans, however, and he decided to take a fellowship at USC, where he re-engaged in singing, writing, and recording. Slowly, he started posting videos of his music, even though he was nervous. “Because of my journey and my past, it’s like weird self -sabotage where I’m like, ‘Oh, no, I can’t.’ Like, ‘I’m going to be embarrassed.’ If I reach out to people I’ve convinced to be champions for the artists I represent, I can’t bring myself to be like, ‘Wait, are you down to being a champion for what I’m doing now?’ ”

But many supporters showed up for him, especially after he shared a soft backyard session he did on his 27th birthday. “It was reached by Jessie Reyez, it was reached by Mon Laferte, it was reached by La Marisoul,” he recalls. “America Ferrera posted it.” Eventually, he crossed paths with producer and music maverick Camilo Lara and showed him a song called “Que Sufras” that he was doing. He was immediately intrigued and asked if he could work it out. “He really gave me encouragement, the push,” she explains. “Because if he didn’t contribute to the song, I don’t know if I would have released it yet.”

There is melancholiness to Learning by the Lazy, which roughly translated means “Learning the hard way.” The songs capture a period of intense, difficult change as she grapples with big changes and what she wants her future to look like. “In recent years, it’s been like,‘ Oh, my God, it’s like the universe has given me, it’s like, seriously, it’s like, chingasos, ” he says, using the Mexican slang term for “blows.” The creative process is almost like a cleansing to him, an opportunity to bring it all out – something that comes with music. “Hopefully when I sing these songs they’re just like a place of reflection and catharsis to connect with other people.” He has already started making more songs that are lighter and explore a more creative side. He is temporarily calling on his second EP Learning for the Good: “Learning by virtue.”

Before we could finish our conversation, Anahí noticed another sign: “A bee has also stopped beside me. Wow! ” he said excitedly. For him, it was a greeting from the universe, another recognition from those before him that he was in the right place.