After Coachella: The Latinx Presence Wasn’t a Moment — It’s the Future

By Herminio Ochoa United Mundos | April 2025

Coachella is over. The stages are packed up, the influencers are back to their curated lives, and the desert is quiet again. But something deeper stayed behind — something you don’t just scroll past. This year, Latinx artists didn’t just “make an appearance.” They made a statement.

And now, with the music still ringing in our ears, the question isn’t “Did we show up?” It’s “Where do we go from here?”

Coachella 2025 Looked — and Sounded — Like Us

For a long time, we’ve been treated like the seasoning at festivals like Coachella. A little spice here, a little flavor there — one Latinx name per lineup, if we’re lucky. But this year flipped that narrative.

Junior H stood tall on the main stage — not as a token, but as a headliner in his own right. El Malilla repped reggaetón Mexa with raw pride, showing the world that barrio sound hits just as hard in Indio as it does in Valle de Chalco. The Marías, as always, glided between softness and soul — showing that Latinx artistry doesn’t have to scream to be heard.

Even smaller sets — like Spain’s Judeline or Argentina’s Ca7riel & Paco Amoroso — didn’t feel out of place. They felt right at home.

Because this year, Coachella felt brown. It felt bilingual. It felt ours.

The Real Show Was in the Crowd

There were tears when Junior H dropped a corrido about heartbreak. There were boots stomping in the dirt, glitter smeared across cheeks, girls singing in Spanish with their whole chest.

It wasn’t performative. It wasn’t curated. It was people — our people — bringing their full selves into that space. A sea of Spanglish, of first-gen joy, of hometown pride. It felt like watching culture stretch its legs, unapologetically.

We weren’t just attendees. We were the atmosphere.

After the Festival, Then What?

Coachella is exposure. A platform. But real cultural impact isn’t just about one weekend.

Now that these artists have been seen, will the industry support them when the cameras turn off? Will publications cover El Malilla in August, or will they wait for the next viral TikTok? Will streaming playlists evolve to reflect what we already know — that Latinx sound isn’t one genre, one country, or one moment?

The challenge isn’t showing up. It’s staying in the room.

Final Thoughts

What happened at Coachella 2025 wasn’t new. It was overdue.

The culture didn’t start in the desert. It came from quinceañeras, pirated CDs at the swap meet, YouTube freestyles, backyard kickbacks, and old-school rancheras played on the drive home from school.

Coachella simply caught up.

So now, as the last stories get posted and the wristbands come off, one thing is clear: Latinx artists aren’t a feature. We’re the foundation. And this isn’t a peak — it’s a launch.