Album Review: Young Miko Proves She’s More Than “Rookie of the Year” with ‘att.’

Puerto Rico’s latest trap star dials back the braggadocious tone of her SoundCloud days to deliver sincere lo-fi tracks on her debut album.

Written by C.S. Harper

Photo courtesy of Thalia Gochez

Young Miko is an unrelenting force of nature. Born in the Puerto Rican town of Añasco — also home to reggaetón legend Ivy Queen — as María Victoria Ramírez de Arellano, the beloved trapera was bound to follow in the footsteps of giants. After breaking onto the scene with 2018’s Soundcloud hit “Quiero,” she has consistently released banger after banger, securing collaborations with Latin music mainstays like KAROL G, Bad Bunny, and J Balvin. The rapper quickly climbed toward superstardom last year, making the Billboard Hot 100 with “Classy 101” and joining Rolling Stone’s Future 25 class.

In 2024, Miko reached new heights after hitting the studio with celebrated Argentine producer Bizarrap to create the 58th installment of his famed music session series. The resulting megamix became one of both artists’ most streamed singles, further cementing Miko’s entrance into the public consciousness. What’s noteworthy about her meteoric rise is how it has helped crack the glass ceiling in Latin trap, with the Boricua songstress serving as a beacon of representation for the LGBTQ+ community as an openly lesbian femme. With the world watching and the ball now in Miko’s court, the trapera announced her long-awaited debut album, att., on Instagram in March. One month and three promotional singles later, the 25-year-old delivered to the hype with a playful-yet-vulnerable collection of 16 tracks.

Opener “rookie of the year” brings things back to Añasco as Miko reflects on her career journey. The song is divided into two parts, with audio snippets from the rapper’s father that transition the track into a beat switch and pay homage to her roots. In the first part, Miko raps about her artistic growth and difficulties adjusting to fame: “Arriba con los mismo’ desde ‘105 Freestyle’ / … Ya casi ni duermo, ahora vivo en un aeropuerto” (“Up there with the same ones since ‘105 Freestyle’ / I almost get no sleep, now I live in an airport”). As synthy keys and a bouncy beat kick in, she metamorphosizes from the vulnerable Ramírez to the confident Young Miko as she brags about becoming a household name.

“arcoíris” sees the rapper fully embrace the Young Miko character with its swaggering tone. Over a syncopated bassline and flute-like synths, courtesy of long-time collaborators Caleb Calloway and Mauro, the Latina singer-songwriter suavely seduces a woman who “quiere que yo me la lleve” (“wants me to take her”). Whereas Miko effortlessly secures a hook-up in “arcoíris,” “tamagotchi” unveils her insecurities in her love life. Accompanied by pop-punk guitar riffs and a steady dembow rhythm, the self-proclaimed anime nerd likens herself to the eponymous Japanese digital pet as she voices her relationship needs. “Tiene que alimentarme como Tamagotchi / To' los día' de su cuerpo una dosi'” (“She needs to feed me like a Tamagotchi / Every day I need a dose of her body”).

Image courtesy of The Wave Music Group

To contrast the tenderness of “tamagotchi,” “fuck TMZ” and “princess peach” embody a more assertive tone. In the former, Miko takes back control of her narrative as she resists the publicization of her relationship in the press. “Si salimo' en la tele, mejor apágala / No saben na'” (“If we appear on TV, you better turn it off / They don’t know anything,” she croons over mellow guitar plucks. In “princess peach,” the rapper teases a love interest who plays with her feelings: “Con ese peach, mami, ¿quién se enoja contigo? / Traje el weed y gana' de darte castigo” (“With that peach, mami, who would get mad at you? / I brought weed and the desire to punish you”). The song’s accompanying music video elevates this light-hearted tone, with colorful set design and visual references to modern queer classics like “Portrait of a Lady on Fire” and “Euphoria.”

Despite the deeply personal nature of att., Miko shares the spotlight with numerous contemporaries. One of these instances is the Jowell & Randy assisted “ID,” the record’s first promotional single. Accompanied by a catchy instrumental composed of vocal samples and a syncopated dembow beat, all three rappers take turns yearning for the same “bellaquita” (“flirtatious woman”). Another standout, “MADRE,” positions Miko as Latin trap’s titular “mother,” an LGBTQ+ slang term of endearment for revered women in the community. The track is her second effort with fellow queer Boricua Villano Antillano, who previously appeared in the former’s first-ever collaborative single, “Vendetta.” What results is a song that revels in queerness, with a house instrumental fit for the runway and rapid-fire references to ballroom culture (“Fem queen, runway / Realness all the way / Butch queen all the way / Sex siren, give me face”).

Whereas Miko’s bubbliness shines through in att.’s first half, tracks nine through eleven feel sonically and lyrically stagnant. The rapper leans too heavily into her newfound sad girl image in these mid-tempo songs, with little variety to their formulaic combination of lofi reggaetón instrumentals and unrequited love themes. In spite of this, Miko finds her footing again in the whimsically playful “wiggy” and gritty “oye ma’.” Rapping in Spanglish throughout the former, the trap darling effortlessly interpolates several musical influences, from Las Ketchup’s 2002 hit “The Ketchup Song (Aserejé)” to Mac Miller’s “Nikes on My Feet.” “Oye ma’” showcases Miko’s most entrancing rapping on the record, as she delivers rapid-fire triplets over distorted bass.

The rapper returns to the introspection of “rookie of the year” in closing track “pinot grigio.” She raises a glass to 1K, a collective of her friends and professional collaborators, as she thanks them for accompanying her on her artistic journey. “La gente cambia, pero ello' no se me viran / Ello' me cuidan, manos arriba” (“People change, but they don’t veer away / They take care of me, hands up”), she croons softly as bright piano keys envelop her. She also expresses gratitude for her success, singing “Lleno' los bolsillo', también lleno' los venue' / Esto no lo hago por clout ni tampoco los premio'” (“I fill my pockets as well as the venues / I don’t do this for clout or the awards”). To bring things full circle, the track closes with a final voice message from a singing child, symbolizing Miko’s newfound vulnerability.

Given the sonic versatility and lyrical gems of Miko’s debut record, the phrase “rookie of the year” feels like she is selling herself short. Though it feels at times drawn out, especially with the repetitiveness of some mid-tempo tracks, att. is all in all a solid debut effort. For the first time, the rapper shows that she isn’t just the “tattooed, anime-looking” character that self-described mikosexuals have come to love — she’s a human at her core, with a wealth of emotional experiences to show for it across 16 candid tracks.