With her new single, “Sin Filtro,” Ivelisse Del Carmen has entered our pages like a storm that carries rain and light. Born under the Caribbean sun of Puerto Rico and now carving her path in the cultural labyrinth of London, Ivelisse is a storyteller caught between worlds. Classically trained yet rhythmically tethered to the soil that raised her, she stands at the edge of tradition and rebellion, weaving identity into melody, memory into rhythm. Her artistry is not one of compromise but of collision, where strings dance with dembow, and operatic echoes rise against the pulse of reggaeton. In her, the past and present hold hands, even when it hurts.
“Sin Filtro,” released on September 19, is a song to sit with, one that reveals its weight in the spaces between beats. This is not reggaeton crafted for neon clubs and sweat-slick dance floors. Instead, it is a reclamation, an act of defiance draped in vulnerability. For Ivelisse, reggaeton was once something to hide, censored and judged in the Puerto Rico of her youth. But here, she lays it bare, on her terms, with her voice, and in her language of truth.
The song opens like a confession, while her vocals carry fragility and strength, threading through a backdrop of strings and Spanish guitar. There is a warmth to her delivery, but also a tremor, as if every line is drawn from the marrow of her experience. Her voice quivers, pleads, and confronts. Each word drips with unfiltered honesty, capturing the duality of fear and courage, doubt and defiance. The lyric “My ego, the spider, afraid to get hurt” is the song’s mirror, exposing the webs of avoidance that come with rejection and self-doubt.
Production-wise, “Sin Filtro” is a marvel of contrasts. A reggaeton rhythm pulses steadily at its heart, but it never dominates. Instead, it becomes the spine upon which orchestral flourishes stretch their wings. Classical strings swell with cinematic gravitas, while the Spanish guitar lends intimacy. Then, almost unexpectedly, operatic touches bloom through the arrangement, elevating the track into a genre-bending sphere where identity cannot be boxed in. This careful fusion makes the track feel ancestral and avant-garde—rooted in heritage, yet fearless in experimentation.
I love every bit of this piece, and what makes Ivelisse’s performance compelling is her refusal to mask the messiness of emotion. Where others might polish the edges, she allows the cracks to show, and in doing so, her delivery becomes a testimony. This song is meant to resonate and stir the inner rooms of anyone who has felt the weight of silencing themselves, anyone who has wrestled with the shadow of rejection.
With “Sin Filtro,” Ivelisse Del Carmen gives us more than music. She offers us a mirror: unpolished, unflinching, and beautiful in its rawness. And in that reflection, we see not just her journey—but perhaps fragments of our own.
Listen to “Sin Filtro” on Spotify
Follow Ivelisse Del Carmen here for more information
