FLIP THAT GROOVE | INTERVIEW + TRACK REVIEW

Some collaborations sound like two artists meeting in the middle. Flip That Groove and Jazz Minero sound like two worlds colliding at full speed.

Recorded between Melbourne and Spain, It’s So Hot, Hace Calor is impossible to pin down. Industrial punk crashes into hip-hop rhythms, theremin wails cut through distorted basslines, and spaghetti western guitars drift across a landscape that feels as suffocating as the title suggests. But beneath the experimentation lies something far more deliberate. This isn’t chaos for the sake of it. It’s a reflection of a world overwhelmed by political division, social tension and the relentless noise of modern life.

Rather than offering easy answers, Flip That Groove and Jazz Minero embrace discomfort, using confrontation, humour and raw emotion to create art that refuses to look away. We caught up with both artists to discuss collaboration, political frustration, creative freedom and why sometimes the most honest response to the world is simply to make louder music.

TRACK REVIEW - It’s So Hot, Hace Calor

From the opening moments, It’s So Hot, Hace Calor throws any expectation of genre out the window. Industrial noise collides with hip-hop grooves, punk attitude and cinematic spaghetti western textures to create something that feels completely unpredictable. The heavy bass sits front and centre, while sparse guitar lines and the eerie theremin constantly shift the atmosphere, making every section feel like it’s threatening to spill over into chaos.

What makes the track so compelling is that, beneath all of its experimentation, there’s genuine purpose. Every sound feels like it contributes to the pressure, anxiety and frustration the song is trying to communicate. The production is fearless, allowing unconventional ideas to breathe without ever feeling self-indulgent. Rather than chasing trends or fitting neatly into a genre, Flip That Groove and Jazz Minero have created something entirely their own. It’s uncomfortable, provocative and strangely addictive, the kind of song that rewards repeated listens because there’s always another layer hiding beneath the noise.

Spotify listen here

PRESS PHOTO

“It’s So Hot, Hace Calor” feels less like a song and more like being trapped inside a pressure cooker. At what point did heat stop becoming a backdrop and start becoming a metaphor for everything else happening in the world?

We try to create a rough plan that evolves as the project grows and ideas start to form. We can’t avoid what’s happening politically as it is shoved down our faces daily. Our art reflects the absorption of that daily assault, and I get fired up at the racist and homophobic hate in the world.

The track sits somewhere between industrial noise, punk chaos, hip-hop rhythm and a spaghetti western soundtrack. Did you ever have a clear destination in mind, or was the whole point to create something that felt impossible to categorise?

Me and Luis are both heavily influenced by all those genres, so when we work together on projects those influences are magnified. I personally try to be genuine and abstract in my art, and Luis is just an incredibly gifted visual and sound artist that can’t be defined in a single genre. That is the magic of collaboration.

Luis, your lyrics paint a world of insomnia, insects, smells and confinement. Do you think the most powerful songs come from emotional experiences, or from physical discomfort that slowly becomes emotional?

Yes, they come from emotional experiences. Those are the best songs, and talking about those uncomfortable experiences helps people connect with our music because it feels true. As artists, we can say what people can’t express themselves.

There’s a sense throughout the track that something is about to boil over. Was that tension inspired more by personal circumstances, or by the feeling that society itself is reaching a breaking point?

The world is going through enormous upheaval on so many levels. Society can’t hide from the boil over and pressure is everywhere, on TV, socials and in the pub. We as artists absorb this energy and reflect it through our music. This helps me decontaminate from all that shit too. We are collectively trying to avoid breaking point.

This collaboration was born through social media, but the final result feels deeply human and confrontational. What did you discover about each other creatively that couldn’t have been learned through a screen?

Luis: Great friendship and respect for our collective musical influences.

Paul: I’ve seen Luis growing as an artist on every song he releases, developing his art. His music and video output is huge, constantly exploring new sounds and images. I’m grateful to be a part of his journey as an artist through this collaboration.

A lot of artists use music to escape reality. This track feels like it drags reality into the room and locks the door behind you. Do you see art as an escape, a confrontation, or a way of documenting survival?

Art and music has been my escape my whole life. Coming from a punk background, confrontation is a way to challenge and engage discussion, to give a voice to the voiceless, to knock down walls and kick in doors.

The theremin creates this strange feeling of uncertainty, almost like a warning signal from another world. What role did unpredictability play in shaping the atmosphere of the song?

The theremin is used like a sound from another world, warning signals from another planet about the world we are living in right now. It creates a very uncertain sound with the way the soundwaves fluctuate throughout the composition. It’s such a unique and atmospheric instrument.

Both of you seem drawn to challenging perceptions rather than providing comfortable answers. Do you think good art should leave people inspired, unsettled, or somewhere in between?

Art should challenge, expose and unsettle, but also create passion, love and a connection within the community. That’s what this collaboration has done for both of us, pushing each other individually.

The song was recorded between Spain and Melbourne, yet it feels strangely unified in its anxiety and urgency. Do you think modern frustrations have become so universal that geography matters less than it once did?

It’s such a small world now. Language and geography are no barrier. Music is universal, and frustrations are continuing to rise above the noise globally. Art is more important right now as a means of getting information out, especially when our news and journalism have become contaminated.

If It’s So Hot, Hace Calor became a time capsule of this moment in history, what would you hope future listeners understand about the world that created it?

Political leaders come and go, but the community is strong and people will stay connected for the common good as long as they keep moving forward. Our music is just a small island to retreat to in a very big pond.

Stay safe and be kind.