Calle 24 Embraces Change with Eterno, Leaving Behind the Spotlight

Diego Millán, known artistically as Calle 24, has gained recognition within the música mexicana genre for his candid explorations of the rock star lifestyle, illuminating themes of excess such as wealth, luxury cars, and indulgent parties.

Since signing with Street Mob Records in 2020, a label established by Jesús “JOP” Ortiz Paz, the singer-songwriter has produced notable hits, including “Que Onda.” Featuring fellow labelmates Chino Pacas and Fuerza Regida, this track reached No. 61 on the Billboard Hot 100 following its debut in August 2023. However, the 23-year-old from Chihuahua is now shifting his focus to more grounded themes, moving away from the trappings of fame.

“Money brings more problems,” Millán said during an interview at an Italian restaurant in Glendale’s Americana at Brand. “Because the more money you have, the more things you have to support.”

In April, Millán released “Eterno,” his fourth studio album. The 15-track project marks a departure from the genre’s typical brass-heavy sound, instead offering introspective songs that delve into disillusionment with wealth (“10 de mayo”), mental health struggles (the gritty “Si Me Ven”), and the complexities of love and loss (“Solo”). The album also confronts the sensitive issue of organized crime in Mexico with the track “El Sentrita.”

Millán described this album as his most authentic work to date, attributing this shift to his return to Mexico. “It is filled with deep values, strong ethics, and a profound sense of social understanding,” he explained.

As many musicians seek fame in the United States, Millán finds a renewed sense of freedom back home. “Now, I can be myself,” he stated.

The following interview was conducted in Spanish, and has been succinctly edited for clarity.

On the track “Solo,” you explore romantic loneliness. Why was it important to incorporate such vulnerability in this album?

I prefer to approach those themes from a more grounded perspective. With that song, I wanted to really open myself up to that feeling and express regret, that sense of loneliness that comes with saying “I screwed things up.” I feel that’s how you establish a deeper connection with your audience. After all, so many people out there don’t have luxuries or material things like that, so how do you reach them? With emotion, a feeling that expresses regret, including with the phrase: “I know I’m a piece of s—, but you know that I love you.”

Your approach reminds me of Joan Sebastian’s “Un Idiota,” where the singer reflects on past mistakes, revealing a depth of emotion.

That’s precisely my goal—to convey the human experience. I wanted listeners to engage with the music in such a way that it strikes them emotionally.

The song “Si Me Ven” addresses burnout and the notion that wealth does not guarantee fulfillment. Did you draw from your own experiences for this track?

This song resonates deeply with me. It’s true: money doesn’t bring happiness. Personally, I spent five years away from my family and missed significant moments.

On Instagram, you mentioned feeling more human than artist. Do you find this career draining at times?

Of course, while being a successful musician is my dream, I didn’t fully grasp what it would entail. It has been draining, and there are days when I struggle to find motivation as I identify more as a person than just an artist. While some of my colleagues embrace a glamorous lifestyle, I tend to enjoy my time at home.

How do you reconcile the music industry’s allure based on wealth and materialism?

I do appreciate nice cars, as anyone would. When you work hard, it’s natural to satisfy what you lacked in your youth. However, I don’t believe in flaunting it.

Your “Eterno” album cover features you surrounded by a stack of money—does that contradict your stance?

[Laughs] The cover has its own story. I was feeling down at the time, grappling with sadness. The clash between my emotions and the imagery adds depth to the album cover.

Regarding “El Sentrita,” the song examines organized crime as a systemic issue. What inspired you to address this topic?

I aimed to provide social commentary on ongoing issues in Mexico, along with the challenges faced by artists in expressing certain themes. Music has historically served as a means for artists to communicate societal concerns, and I want to follow that tradition.

I decided that if the government restricts my ability to sing a corrido, I would use one as a vehicle for criticism instead. The narrative is designed so that listeners see the character’s struggle; it’s meant to make them reflect on opportunities that are often denied.

The music video portrays a young boy drawn into organized crime, suggesting his choice was influenced by systemic factors. Can you elaborate on this depiction?

That’s the central question: who is the victim? I saw the character as a good person who succumbed to negative influences, transforming as a result. Viewing the situation from another angle allows us to understand that societal conditions can lead individuals down dark paths.

Finally, in the song, you say, “You don’t sing about what you do; you sing about what you see.” What does that mean?

We aren’t engaging in those activities; rather, we sing about the realities we witness in Mexico every day. These are not isolated incidents but a constant reality that deserves recognition and discussion.