Nsqk can hear the connection between Radiohead and Willie Colón. To the Mexican singer-producer, both know when to let the instruments speak as much as the verses.
It’s a fitting observation from an artist whose music moves between electronic production, R&B melodies, rap and distorted guitars. Born Rodrigo Torres de la Garza in Monterrey and raised partly in Texas, the 28-year-old Nsqk — pronounced “Nesquik” — grew up navigating two countries and the expectations that come with belonging to both.
“I grew up in Houston,” he says. “I understand what it’s like to be a second-generation Mexican growing up in the States.” That experience, he explains, helps him connect with collaborators who also know what it means to feel as if they exist between worlds.
His audience has grown well beyond the underground following he garnered in his early experiments with electronic production. After releasing his albums “Roy” (2022) and “ATP” (2024), he sold out two consecutive shows at Mexico City’s Palacio de los Deportes in 2025.
A date this January at the city’s Estadio GNP Seguros marks another leap in his scale.
In his Oct. 15 album release, “Mosca,” Nsqk is joined by the Chicano experimentalist Jean Dawson on the guitar-driven “Dientes de Fierro,” while indie icon Julieta Venegas lends her silky vocals and synth melodies to “Estar Así Siempre.” Additional cameos include folk balladeers like Pedro Tovar of Eslabón Armado and Kevin Kaarl, with longtime Gorillaz collaborator Stephen Sedgwick handling the mixes.
De Los spoke to Nsqk ahead of his upcoming U.S. tour — which includes a performance at Tyler, the Creator’s Camp Flog Gnaw fest on Sunday in L.A.’s Dodger Stadium. He spoke candidly about letting his music breathe, finding common ground in the studio and why Mexican identity shouldn’t depend on where someone lives.
When we first spoke, you mentioned EDM producer Porter Robinson as an influence. Where does that influence show up on “Mosca”? Absolutely. Just the other day, I was listening to “Worlds” again. Everyone has these albums that you discovered at 14 years old, and you listen to them every once in a while because it’s part of you.
I was making these connections: “Oh, I didn’t even realize I was referencing this.” It keeps happening with a lot of my influences. There are certain moments, especially on “Peces Muertos” and some of the more electronic tracks, where you can hear very directly the influence from Porter Robinson and Madeon.
What did you try on “Mosca” that you wouldn’t have trusted yourself to do on “ATP”? I tried letting the music ride a lot more. During the process, I listened to a lot of Radiohead and U.K. rock. It’s very cinematic. They let the music breathe and let the instruments speak for a while without having to sing.
I was also listening to a lot of salsa: Willie Colón, Héctor Lavoe, Celia Cruz. I never expected that where Radiohead and Willie Colón meet is that they let the music ride. They’ll sing a verse, then let the instruments speak for a minute, two minutes.
That’s something I hadn’t done in my music intentionally. It’s about what I’m saying, but it’s also about what the instruments are saying.
What surprised you about working with Stephen Sedgwick on the album’s mixes? One of the craziest things about working with him is that everything is analog, everything’s physical. He’ll run his Pro Tools out into this gigantic wall of effects and compressors, amplifiers and limiters. I didn’t even know what everything was.
I do everything on my laptop. To take it somewhere where it’s all physical, at first it was actually kind of weird. We were speaking two different languages. I was trying to explain that I wanted things in a very digital way, but we had to figure out how to do that with his equipment.
What stood out about working with Pedro Tovar of Eslabón Armado on “Mil Problemas”? He’s an amazing songwriter. He is so quick. It’s a similar experience with Julieta: They’re so good at it that they just sit and start, and they can write a song in five minutes. And it’s an amazing song.
He knows exactly what he wants, and he knows exactly who he is as an artist. The track is not a corrido or sierreño, but it sounds like them. It sounds like his melodies and his chords.
He did the guitar solo and I rerecorded it with my guitarist, who’s a rock guy. Even this guy, a classically trained guitarist, was like: “This is crazy to play.” It’s a completely different approach to playing guitar.
It’s really hard to put into words, but once you see him do it, it makes total sense.
What connects the collaborators you brought together on this record? You’re not American [enough] for the Americans, not quite Mexican [enough] for the Mexicans. The Chicano experience: I grew up like that.
All of the artists on the record sort of share this cultural duality, where you often feel like you’re in between worlds, and you don’t know exactly which one you belong to.
It’s not that we sat down and talked about it to create the music. But I feel like the reason I connected so well with everyone is that we share that characteristic.
Has returning to the U.S. as an artist changed how you understand that experience? There’s often this cultural disconnect between Mexicans living in the U.S. and Mexicans living in Mexico. I often see people say, “You’re not Mexican if you don’t live in Mexico.” That’s always felt kind of weird to me because I know what it’s like.
I feel like our culture and our heritage is so beautiful. The fact that it’s so ingrained in the States is amazing to me.
I see a lot on Twitter and TikTok, people fighting about it: “Just because you were born in Chicago, but your parents were Mexican, and you speak Spanish, and you eat Mexican food. But because you don’t live in Mexico, you’re not Mexican.” I see people saying that a lot.
I feel really honored to be able to tour the United States, meet these people and wear the flag on my chest. I don’t feel like we’re any different.
As a Tyler, the Creator fan, what does playing Camp Flog Gnaw mean to you? It’s an honor. He created this space for much more vulnerable music with all these different influences. He’s a torch carrier for a niche of artists that try to make different music, in a way that’s not necessarily the status quo or the most commercial way to do it.
To be part of the lineup is an honor, but it’s also very motivating. It’s cool that we’ve gotten this far, and that only gives me more energy to keep working.
You’re going from a stadium show in Mexico City to smaller U.S. rooms. What can you do with an audience that close? Talk to them. It’s a lot easier to see their faces and reactions and literally talk to them.
When I’m onstage, I really enjoy talking to people and making them feel like I’m not just playing my set list for the hundredth time. I’m actually there, I’m enjoying it, I’m seeing them and they’re seeing me.
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