Carín León battles through vocal struggles to close La Onda festival

San Francisco Chronicle​

2 days ago

It may sound harsh to call Carín León's headlining set at La Onda a disappointment, but if you asked the singer from Sonora, he might nod in agreement.
León took the main stage Sunday, June 1, with visible strain and an ailing voice, powering through a closing set that capped the second edition of Wine Country's Latin-focused festival with more grit than glory.
His delivery — hoarse, limited, at times painfully distant from his signature resonance — was far from the vocal force that has propelled him into the upper tiers of Latin music stardom. Still, he pressed on.
'There is no fire in my voice,' he admitted to the crowd, 'but I'm going to put heart into it.'
That became the mantra of the night.
What followed was near- 80 minutes of raw effort and improvised remedies: a red elixir (Chloraseptic throat spray? Tequila?), a banana between songs, apologies to the tens of thousands gathered in front of the La Onda stage.
Ever the professional, León never walked off stage (albeit ending his set five minutes early) but he couldn't rise to the performance either. The crowd — warm, forgiving and singing along — carried the set as much as he did.
There were highlights. His rendition of 'Tennessee Whiskey,' a nod to the crossover appeal that made him the only artist to perform at both BottleRock Napa Valley and La Onda this year, earned a swell of cheers.
But the cover and most of his offerings on Sunday felt more like a reminder of what wasn't working rather than what was.
La Onda's organizers had bet heavily on León. Already a banner booking for BottleRock the weekend before, he was elevated to headline La Onda on Sunday after Grupo Firme abruptly canceled after being denied entry into the United States. Tito Doble P, the rising star of corridos tumbados, was shifted to the Verizon Stage and León moved to the main stage to anchor the night. But despite his high energy and momentum, the field in front of him never quite filled. The gravity was with León, and so was the weight.
That's what lingered. Not the missed notes or the rasping falsetto attempts, but the sheer will of an artist who refused to bail.
'No me voy a rajar,' he said multiple times.
León didn't deliver a masterclass in vocal performance, but he delivered something human.
Some nights, the voice doesn't show up; Sunday was one of them. But the heart did — and for that, Carín León still earned his moment under La Onda's closing lights.