A year after a leaked song became a viral phenomenon, the Marías frontwoman, YSL beauty ambassador, and CULT100 digital cover star is ready to talk about her journey into stardom.

WORDS

DATE

SHARE

Twitter
LinkedIn
Facebook
Email
Musician singer Maria Zardoya of The Marias
María Zardoya wears a top by Louis Vuitton. Makeup artist Nina Park used All Hours Foundation, Touche Éclat Awakening Concealer Click Pen, and Hyper Luminize Highlighter in 01. All, YSL Beauty.

“We never anticipated getting this big,” says María Zardoya. “It takes 10 years to become an overnight success.” The singer, all jet-black hair and puckish grunge, seems teleported from the ’80s heyday of female rockers—thanks in part to the sharp features the YSL Beauty Voice accentuates with a drawer of Make Me Blush and other staples. “It makes me look a little more alive,” she winks. But her rise, alongside the trio of mop-headed boys she shares the stage with, bears the indisputable mark of the digital age.

The Marías came together the same year TikTok launched—if you know the band’s name today, that’s likely thanks to the explosion of the app and its forefather, Instagram. Zardoya met Josh Conway, who later became her boyfriend (they’ve since broken up) and the band’s drummer/producer, at the Kibitz Room, the bar-venue tucked inside Canter’s Deli in Los Angeles, at a gig she played in late 2015, shortly after moving to the West Coast to pursue music. Jesse Perlman (guitarist) and Edward James (keyboardist) signed on soon after. Together, they made the Marías a staple on the indie circuit, accruing a fan base of young romantics with a steady flow of bedroom pop to cry or make love to. Then came “No One Noticed.”

The Marias singer Maria Zardoya in a Cultured photoshoot
María wears a top by Isabel Marant, and Couture Mini Clutch Luxury Eyeshadow Palettes in 700 and 720, Lines Liberated Eyeliners in 02 and 05, and Lash Clash Extreme Volume Mascara in 1. All, YSL Beauty.

The song—which has since become synonymous with the Marías as a band—boasts a lifespan nearly as long as the group’s as a whole: In 2020, Zardoya posted a quick voice note to Instagram that piqued the interest of her followers. Two years and a debut album later, the singer uploaded the completed version of “No One Noticed” to the Internet—despite label concerns that the song was not “commercial” enough to anchor the Marías’s 2024 album Submarine. Fans responded rabidly, and it ultimately made it onto the tracklist. Within two months, the song became the soundtrack to hundreds of thousands of user-generated clips from around the world—long-distance friends reuniting, monologues on lost love, K-pop fan-cams. Today, it boasts over a billion streams on Spotify.

“We never anticipated getting this big. It takes 10 years to become an overnight success.”

At the Grammys this February, where the group was nominated for Best New Artist, Zardoya captivated the audience with her high, wispy register—delivering an extended verse of the song in English and Spanish, a surprise for those familiar with the track’s 30-second snippets online. Increasingly, Zardoya is finding herself confronted with the gulf between the Marías’s new acolytes and day-ones. “Our fan base has been changing, and our earlier fans are reckoning with that,” Zardoya tells me over Zoom, adding, “but at the end of the day, they’re all yearners.”

For the singer, who writes most of the Marías’s lyrics, that yearning translates to a discography that breathlessly annotates the rhythms of relationships (from intoxicating beginnings to bitter ends) in English and Spanish. Zardoya moved to Georgia from her native Puerto Rico with her family at the age of 4 and made regular trips back and forth, with record-store stops on either end. “Being raised in both cultures and consuming media in both languages, I flip-flop between the two,” she explains. “I think it’s a way of life for myself and for so many other people in the Latin community who were raised in the U.S.”

Musician singer Maria Zardoya
María wears a top and skirt by Louis Vuitton, and Lines Liberated 24H Waterproof Eyeliner in 02, Make Me Blush 24H Buildable Blurring Powder Blush in 23, and Lovenude Kiss Shaper Sculpting Lip Liners in 103 and 109. All, YSL Beauty.

During the pandemic, Zardoya’s cross-cultural sampling caught the attention of fellow Puerto Rican musician Bad Bunny, who was holed up at home with the band’s debut record, CINEMA. He tapped the group for a feature on “Otro Atardecer” from his 2022 album Un Verano Sin Ti. “Not only was that album a love letter to Puerto Rico,” Zardoya notes, “but I think it was Bad Bunny’s way of showing the world all the colors of Latin music.”

The two artists’ oeuvres are, in essence, the sound of the Internet right now: a multilingual, mixed-genre amalgamation of the first three decades of the 21st century—intimate, at times despondent. As much as one vocal minority might like to return America’s sound waves, and by extension the country itself, to what they perplexingly refer to as their “traditional” roots, the music that listeners rabidly consume tells a different story. In 2024, Latin music was the U.S.’s fastest-growing genre, and by last year, its growth outpaced the market as a whole.

The genre’s rapid ascent was canonized when Bad Bunny was awarded Album of the Year the same night that the Marías made their Grammys debut, and then took to the Superbowl stage the next weekend. Researchers declared last year that a record one in five Americans identified as Latin, but even that multitude wouldn’t account for the droves that switched on their TVs at halftime this year, or the many fans Zardoya recalls seeing cry, hold hands, and sing along at her shows.

Singer and musician Maria Zardoya of The Marias
María wears a top by Chanel with Couture Mini Clutch Luxury Eyeshadow Palette in 830, Lines Liberated Eyeliner in 02, Lovenude Kiss Shaper Lip Liner in 108 and Loveshine Lip Oil Stick in 204. All, YSL Beauty.

The singer’s latest project and first solo album—Melt, released in 2025 under the name Not for Radio—sees her leaning further into her Latin touchpoints: Over plucked strings, Zardoya sings, “Si te vas, si te vas, ¿qué pasará? / ¿En mi hogar, en tu hogar, nuestra casa?” (“If you leave, if you leave, what will happen? / In my home, in your home, in our home?”) The musician began mulling over the prospect of striking out on her own in 2022, after breaking up with her longtime partner, Conway. With the future of the band uncertain, the foursome agreed to label-sponsored group therapy. (When I ask her how often labels send entire ensembles to couples therapy, Zardoya quips, “We’re probably some of the only ones.”)

“Our fan base has been changing, and our earlier fans are reckoning with that, but at the end of the day, they’re all yearners.”

But following the runaway success of the brutally honest breakup album Submarine, Zardoya felt secure in stepping away for her own project. “I wanted to do something that was a little bit more like me in the forest,” she says. “I think fans will hear [Josh’s upcoming] projects and my solo project and be like, Oh, this is what makes the Marías sound.”

The band is developing its third record with the lessons the members learned touring these projects in mind. “More so than any write-up or comments that you can get online, until you see someone in person, look them in the eye, and talk about the music, it doesn’t feel like it’s actually affected someone,” Zardoya muses. “New or old, we’ve always made music that is honest.”

Hair by Hikaru Hirano
Makeup by Nina Park
Production by Kristen Prappas and LOLA Production
Production Management by Kylie Govinchuck

Order your copy of the CULT100 issue here.

More CULT100 Cover Stories Here

Keke Palmer Never Got to Play the Boss, So She Became One

Salman Rushdie Tells Laurie Anderson the Truth Behind His New Ghost Stories

Vinnie Hacker, the 23-Year-Old Michelangelo of Thirst Traps, Plots a Life After Influencing

An Amateur Psychological Evaluation of Novelist Emma Cline

How Sombr Emerged From Dimes Square Fully Formed as a Pop Star Heartthrob

Sign up for our newsletter here to get these stories direct to your inbox.

You’ve reached your limit.

Sign up for a digital subscription, starting at less than $3 a week.

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

You’ve almost hit your limit.

You’re approaching your limit of complimentary articles. For expanded access, become a digital subscriber for less than $3 a week.

You’re approaching your limit of complementary articles. For expanded access, become a digital subscriber for less than $2 a week.

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

You’re approaching your limit of complementary articles. For expanded access, become a digital subscriber for less than $2 a week.

GET ACCESS

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

Want more in your life?

For less than the price of a cocktail, you can help independent journalism thrive.

Conner Storrie standing on a street
Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here
Conner Storrie standing on a street

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

Want more in your life?

For less than the price of a cocktail, you can help independent journalism thrive.

Conner Storrie standing on a street
Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here
Conner Storrie standing on a street

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

You’ve almost hit your limit.

You’re approaching your limit of complimentary articles. For expanded access, become a digital subscriber for less than $3 a week.

You’re approaching your limit of complementary articles. For expanded access, become a digital subscriber for less than $2 a week.
Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here
You’re approaching your limit of complementary articles. For expanded access, become a digital subscriber for less than $2 a week.

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

Want more in your life?

For less than the price of a cocktail, you can help independent journalism thrive.

Conner Storrie standing on a street

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

Conner Storrie standing on a street

Already a Subscriber? Sign in Here

Want a seat at the table? To continue reading this article, sign up today.

Support independent criticism for $10/month (or just $110/year).

Already a subscriber? Log in.