Las Petunias – Further evidence the girls mean business.
Over to Madrid tonight for a session by Las Petunias. Recorded for RNE Radio 3 Extra on February 24, 2026.
The Spanish press is hailing Las Petunias as the “future of Indie” and getting tons of support. Typical of that is this article from the Website El Español by Maria Canto who wrote this piece last September – here’s a snippet to give you an idea:
“They’ve played in New York and South Korea , but Las Petunias aren’t just another Malasaña rock band; they’re three friends from the mountains near Madrid. They’re still in university and live with their parents. “We’re the youngest people on the scene, and it feels a bit like being Lucía Gil in
Camp Rock ,” jokes Natalia (keyboards), whose reference to that precocious Disney star betrays her generation.
“I like that we’re at this stage of life and talking about it because it’s something other musicians can’t talk to you about,” they tell El Cultural at the offices of Sonido Muchacho, with whom they recently signed after self-releasing their first album, paid for by them “down to the last cent”.
The three of them sing together and talk, in a torrent, about how this new album has made them reshape their sound and connect with their mothers, who have had to step into their shoes, for the first time, to play them in the music video for “Historias de mi madre” (Stories of My Mother), one of the new songs. “Now they know how heavy the guitar is.”
They also talked about “hitting grass,” shunning the narcissism of the music industry —”Not everyone cares about the next visualizer for your album. That TikTok isn’t that important”— and about being under the wing of bands they admired before getting into this, like Carolina Durante or Hinds , whom they have supported.
But surrounding themselves with ordinary people, who aren’t involved in music, is their way of staying focused on what’s important. ” We’ve been labeled as having connections because we’re women with a bit of success, but as much as we support each other with other bands, we spend our free time with our lifelong friends and our partners. We’re not really into partying like Tempo 2.”
Las Petunias have emerged as the future of a stagnant, up-and-coming scene, born before the pandemic but revived after the lockdown , partly due to the “extreme overpopulation” of guitar bands that have sprung up in recent years. The key: consistency and not trying to sound like anyone else.
And they diagnose that one of the biggest problems in this industry is the pressure for immediacy . “Many bands have fallen by the wayside because they say: I want to play a concert at Sala Sol in three months and I want to sell it out. Having goals is a very positive thing, but you also have to be realistic, because otherwise you get frustrated and say: screw the band. I understand that you’re not so motivated if what you’re selling is a product and not the desire to have a band , ” says Elsa (guitar).
“We ‘ve had concerts where we’ve been scammed , we haven’t been paid, concerts where only three people showed up, and we still went ahead with them. We’ve lost a lot of money, we’ve done everything very much on our own, but we’ve had the energy to last almost five years where nobody cared about us,” Cecilia adds.
These twenty-somethings, who started releasing songs in 2021, followed in the footsteps of bands like Cariño and Shego. Both recently announced their breakup, although they will continue with other members, as Hinds already did. “Three years ago, tons of all-female bands were coming out. Suddenly, you saw more young women making music. And now I feel like all the bands that are coming out are all-male ,” they say.
Fragile as a bomb. That’s Cecilia Soto, Elsa Moreno, and Natalia Montes, three twenty-somethings who like to stir things up, make a scene, and never stay still. They’re reminiscent of Las Vulpes , more punk in attitude than sound, but they don’t pretend to be anything other than Las Petunias.
With their debut album, Creo que soy de porcelana (Ternura, 2024), which turned one year old this November, they blew up an overly complacent music industry.
They’ve just released Ahí te pudras, maldita (Sonido Muchacho), which they’ll be presenting in February at Sala But in Madrid. It’s an EP with a much more polished sound, produced by Carlos Díaz, but still in line with that “mono punk” style they fiercely defend. Literally.
“We found our sound very early on because we didn’t really know how to do it very well, and that made us focus on the lyrics because we were more novice with the melodies,” Cecilia admits, but she understands the frustration of many other bands in achieving their own identity .
“There are many who can’t find their sound. It’s very difficult when we all stick to bass, guitar, keyboards, and drums. The electronic scene, from Ralphie Choo to Rusowski, has countless sounds, ways of making songs, and there’s much more room for experimentation.”
They resist, however, believing that repeating successful formulas is the only option. “There’s a problem with bands as generational as Carolina Durante, and that is that there are many men who want to be like them, who even imitate Diego [Ibáñez]’s voice . And I understand them, because they are our stars, but we can’t stop there. Neither they nor other influential bands would want that.”
Faced with this setback and the “internalized misogyny” that seeks to turn them into “easy victims,” Las Petunias fight back in their lyrics. ” Indie , rich, you haven’t seen El Pico / Your balls are disgusting, lay off the coke / I want you to burn, with the Fender on / Go throw flowers at the guards,” they sing in “Marcelo Criminal.”
“I have a theory that if a record made by women gets a five out of ten, the equivalent for a guy would be an eight and a half, because there’s not as much expectation, they can talk nonsense and nothing happens. If we do it, they say: they’re not taking advantage of their talent and their platform… I use it for what I want, if they can criticize our way of dressing, our aesthetics, or whether my guitar sounds better or worse, I can say that you’re a loser and that you don’t contribute anything to anyone.”
They believe that a lot of anger is directed towards them —about being “a quota” and a “facelift”— but they defend their dirty garage sound, which splashes, squeaks and makes mistakes live.
“Men who’ve bought a €500 pedal are pissed off when you come along with a more badass, punkier, more imperfect attitude and sound, and you achieve things. They’re pissed off that you can get there, which is where they want to be, because they think they’re better than you. But to hear a magical guitar, you go to a Roger Waters concert in Madrid and pay €100. It’s not all about the quality of your instruments, your attitude matters too. Maybe your lyrics don’t have anything to say, and it shows. What’s it to me? I’ll buy the pedal eventually, hopefully, but let me get there because I don’t have parents who can pay for it,” says Cecilia.
Every rocker has their own essence, and Las Petunias address violence in all their songs. They reclaim the legendary ”
Me gusta ser una zorra” by Las Vulpes and ”
Mi coño y yo” by Tus novias Indies. This is a welcome change, especially at a time when it seems that music—particularly music by women—has to be watered down to fit in.
That’s an extended snippet – I would head over to El Español to read the rest of it – good stuff.
In the meantime, press Play and dive in.
