Kristen Castro launches her solo endeavor ushering in a bold new chapter. Her new single ‘Malibu’ is a radiant indie-pop track drenched in vulnerability, self-reclamation and emotional truth. Entirely self-produced, the song marks the first glimpse of her upcoming self-titled debut album, Capricorn Baby, set to drop this August. Known for her work as a touring guitarist and collaborator, Castro now turns the mic inward, drawing from her Latinx roots, queer identity and astrological journey through her Saturn Return. Written across continents and recorded in makeshift studios, from Amsterdam to Nashville, ‘Malibu’ is both a sonic passport and a spiritual homecoming. For On The Record, we spoke with Castro to talk about the inspiration behind the deeply personal track, her transition into solo artistry and how this single helped her rediscover her voice, purpose, and power.
Welcome to Unrecorded! For those who aren’t already familiar with Kristen Castro can you introduce yourself?
Hello Unrecorded! I’m Kristen Castro, a Mexican-American songwriter, producer, and musician based between Los Angeles and Nashville. I’m passionate about fighting for the vulnerable creative and building safe, inclusive spaces in music. Over the years, I’ve built partnerships with brands like Taylor Guitars, Ernie Ball, LR Baggs, and JHS, and recently hit the road playing guitar for Allison Ponthier on tour with Maren Morris and The Japanese House. While I love being a player and band leader in the industry, I’m most excited right now to be stepping back into my own artistry and sharing my voice in a deeper way.
Your debut single ‘Malibu’ is entirely self-produced, from writing to mastering. What was the most challenging and rewarding part of handling every element yourself?
The most challenging part was honestly seeing it through and honoring the art by letting it go. Malibu holds a memory and story that was really personal, and for a long time, I didn’t know how to release it. The most rewarding part is that it’s fully me. It took over two years to finish, and throughout that time I really started trusting my songwriting, my vocals, my production instincts, and even my mixing ideas. I got the track about 85% of the way on my own, and the last 15% came to life with my co-producers, Duncan Ferguson and Devon Eisenbarger, who helped elevate it without taking away its rawness. It’s been a long process, but it taught me how capable I really am.
Can you take us back to that new moon moment at the beach that sparked the idea for the song?
It was a New Moon in Pisces in 2023, a time of release and new beginnings, and I felt this deep urge to let go of the parts of myself, and the relationships, that made me feel not enough. That moment marked the beginning of me really listening to the moon and living in rhythm with its phases. I had just ended a complicated romantic connection with my best friend, and I drove to the beach to process everything.
While I was at El Matador, she called me, and for the first time in my life, someone truly fought for me. She didn’t walk away. It was one of the most beautiful moments: choosing to work through something instead of breaking it, and allowing myself to lean into the love I deserved.
I remember telling her, “All the love I have to give is so that people can find that love in themselves.” That realization stayed with me. Malibu is about loving myself fully for the first time, and being my own knight in shining armor.
How did living in Amsterdam influence the sound or emotion of this track?
Amsterdam is the freest place I’ve ever been. There’s something about the city—the bikes, the quirky art, the individuality of the people, and being with my sister—that all taught me how to be more myself. That energy definitely made its way into Malibu. I recorded the main vocals while living there, and I think you can hear that sense of openness and self-acceptance in the performance. Every time I hear the line “but you caught me now, don’t let me go,” I’m transported back to my sister’s couch, tracking that take.
The song was made across five different locations, which feels symbolic. Vocals in Amsterdam. Electric guitars in Las Vegas. Background vocals in Simi Valley. Acoustics in Nashville. Some ideas even came to me on a train in Italy. It’s a song that traveled with me, and in the process, helped me come home to myself.
Just last month, after my interface broke, I recorded the acoustics on the Voice Memos app. I wasn’t chasing perfection. I just wanted to honor the emotion in the moment. And that’s really the heart of this whole track. Trusting that the feeling is enough.
Where else do you find inspiration?
I find inspiration in the world around me and in the people closest to me. Most of the time, songs come when my heart feels overwhelmed and there’s something I need to say. Writing helps me process moments I don’t always understand in real time, it’s how I make sense of the emotional overwhelm.
Your creative project is about “taking up space intentionally.” How does that intention manifest in your sound and lyrics?
I don’t create for anything other than music being something to release into. I find healing in expressing myself sonically and in lyrics that are different. I really enjoy writing alone to honor that space.
As a Latinx artist entering the indie-pop scene, how do you see your cultural identity influencing your music?
I see my cultural identity reflected in so many layers of my work. The colors in my artwork and photos often remind me of papel picado and the vibrant dresses of Folklorico dancers—bold, expressive, and full of movement. My grandpa was a Cumbia musician and singer, and I feel his influence in the way my music sways and breathes. There’s a soulfulness to it, a natural push and pull that feels inherited. His music made people feel joy and move their bodies, and I hope my songs do the same, inviting people into something honest, heartfelt, and alive.
‘Malibu’ also expresses your queer identity. How important was it for you to be fully authentic and visible in this project?
Malibu was one of the first times I allowed myself to fully express my sexuality in a way that felt soft, joyful, and real. For a long time, I think I held back parts of myself in my music, not even intentionally, but out of survival or fear. So with this project, it was really important for me to be fully authentic and visible, not just for others, but for myself.
I wanted to create something that made space for the kind of love I’ve known, the kind that’s not always represented. To let that be enough, no explanation needed. I think that kind of honesty naturally invites connection, and that’s ultimately what I hope my music does.
This track is also from your upcoming album Capricorn Baby, so what can listeners expect emotionally and sonically in the record?
Capricorn Baby is a love letter to myself and my best friend. It’s a coming of age record that is surrounded by my love for being alive and wanting to be alive. As a Capricorn we’re often dark meticulous types of people but my Cancer Moon is the heart behind this album. It’s heartbreak and healing, breaking and becoming, death and rebirth.
This album has been my greatest source of comfort over the past few years, and now I’m ready to release it into the world and let it live its own life. It’s bittersweet because this music carried me through times when I didn’t know where else to turn. I find so much joy that this album is sort of a Monarch butterfly, delicate and resilient and ready to take flight.
What do you hope that listeners will take away from your debut release?
This takes me back to that phone call at the beach in Malibu. I hope listeners find the inner courage to honor their voice and do the thing that scares them. To speak the truth they’ve been holding in. I hope they find beauty in their brokenness to begin anew. That’s what Malibu was for me, a moment of choosing myself and starting again.
You can also listen to ‘Malibu’ in our Shades of Pop playlist.
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