Bajo el seudónimo de Señora , Daniel Simón explora los límites: no solo los del sonido o la percepción, sino también aquellos que dividimos como sociedades —fronteras físicas, sociales e incluso conceptuales—. Práctica de Límites , editado por OPENTHENEXT , surge como una reflexión sensible sobre cómo marcamos separaciones, tanto en el mundo exterior como dentro de nosotros mismos.
Desde este punto de partida, el álbum se convierte en una experiencia auditiva diseñada para escuchar con el cuerpo tanto como con los oídos. Cada pista está construida con capas densas de texturas y pulsos controlados que evocan flujos energéticos en constante movimiento. Más que un cuestionamiento estético, Práctica de Límites propone una escucha activa que puede ayudar a liberar tensiones internas, facilitando estados de introspección y equilibrio emocional.
Publicado bajo el sello OPENTHENEXT , este lanzamiento refuerza una línea curatorial que fusiona música electrónica con intención terapéutica: una apuesta por sonidos que no solo se oyen, sino que resuenan dentro de quien los escucha, ofreciendo un espacio para la reflexión, la liberación y el encuentro consigo mismo.
Lanzado como la referencia número 12 del sello barcelonés, Práctica de Límites no solo amplía la discografía personal de Señora, sino que también refuerza la identidad curatorial y experimental de OPENTHENEXT, comprometido con proyectos que cruzan arte, tecnología y filosofía.
Hemos tenido el placer de entrevistar a Señora, y este ha sido el resultado.
This release feels tribal, ritualistic, and futuristic all at once. What rituals did you undergo to bring it to life?
Drinking coffee with soy milk, stretching my back every 45 minutes, reading time, and discussing future developments in artificial intelligence two days a week.
Spanish identity subtly weaves through your work. How does your heritage manifest in this album?
I find it hard to believe that my Spanish identity is reflected in this work, honestly. But if I think in terms of cultural echoes or clichés, maybe it’s there in the percussion, rhythm is always central in my work. And perhaps beneath the more melancholic tones, there’s still a subtle undercurrent of celebration, a kind of restrained festivity. I’ve explored more overtly Spanish sonic elements in previous projects, but with this one, that influence feels more subconscious, if anything.
From nightclubs to open-air festivals—does context change how you compose or perform tracks?
Absolutely. Context always shapes the music, whether consciously or not. If you follow my work, you’ll probably notice shifts that reflect not only personal growth but also the environments I’ve been exposed to. Musically, I’m quite impressionable in the best sense. If a track grabs me, even from a genre I’d never considered before, it can quietly reshape the way I approach sound. Those influences often seep into my compositions over time, sometimes without me even realizing it.
The title Práctica de Límites evokes discipline and experimentation. What limits did you push in its making?
The limits I explored were both technical and perceptual. I worked with sounds that, on first listen, might feel broken, distorted, or even misplaced and used them to build melodies. I pushed distortion to the edge of discomfort, not just for the sake of noise, but to see if something musical could emerge from that tension. Some drum patterns flirt with falling out of sync, walking a fine line between chaos and coherence. As the title suggests, these are exercises (practices). Hopefully, they’re steps toward even more disruptive and meaningful results in the future.
How do you view the remix as a practice—dialogue, reinterpretation, or disruption?
For me, the most exciting part of working on a remix is finding that one element, sometimes subtle, sometimes obvious that sparks something and opens up a whole new set of possibilities. It’s about taking a sound the original artist used one way and imagining how it might live differently within my own language. In that sense, I’d say remixing is primarily an act of reinterpretation, at least in how I approach it.
How important is groove in your music, even when the rhythms feel abstract?
I think groove is just as essential in my music as it is for any artist. If we understand groove as that magnetic pull, a sensation of being drawn in or held, then the goal in any kind of production is to create that feeling. Sometimes it emerges through the interaction of several elements, and other times from a single, powerful atmosphere that manages to persuade and carry the listener. Whatever the form, that central groove needs to take the lead. It’s what gives the track its momentum and emotional weight, even when the rhythms themselves feel unconventional.
What track from the release do you feel most emotionally connected to?
With all three, of course! If that weren’t the case, I wouldn’t have released them. Each track carries a different feeling, a different story. They’re like three distinct emotional pictures. I understand that, at times, one song might stand out with a stronger meaning for various reasons, but in this case, they each hold their own weight and reflect a genuine part of the process.
How would you define your sound without using genre labels?
Reverberations and echoes as an envelope for rhythms lead by the pulse of machines, animals, electricity, noises, roars, voices, cries, chants, howlings, bellowings, storms and stolen recordings.
