I Am Yurena: glitter, plastic and an identity that isn't up for debate

Neon, plastic, glitter. The English verses of I Am Yurena sound like a 2000s set: plastic love, cheap romance, plastic tears, a shiny crown. Everything is artificial and everything shines. And in the middle, a statement that repeats: I am Yurena, this is all you see.

I really like that contrast. What some would call fake is embraced here with pride. The sparkle, the exaggerated, the kitsch. All that aesthetic so often looked down on becomes a crown.

The chorus

Then the Spanish comes in and the tone changes. «Yo no soy Tamara la mala» ("I'm not Tamara the bad one"), says the chorus, and refers anyone who wants a refresher to the newspaper archives. It's a way of making clear who's who now, and that the past doesn't define anyone.

And for anyone who still gets annoyed, the song has an answer so brazen I'm not going to soften it: they can suck her tits. Just like that, no anaesthetic. It's the kind of comeback I love, because it doesn't enter into debate. It cuts the conversation short with humour and lots of style.

For me it's a tribute to Yurena and her right to be who she is, with the name she has chosen. And also to anyone who has had to fight to be called by the right name.

It has something very turn-of-the-century gay dance floor about it, those nights when technopop played without shame and the crowd shouted the choruses like slogans.

When to listen? Before going out, while you do your make-up. Or when someone insists on calling you by a name that is no longer yours.

I find it very funny how little effort the song makes to be liked. It doesn't apologise, doesn't explain, doesn't justify itself. And precisely because of that it sticks in your head.

Dedicated to Yurena, with all the respect and all the glitter in the world.

The full lyrics are further down. Listen on Spotify