History Books Won't Tell You How We Lived on a Tuesday Afternoon. Songs Might.

Madrid, October 25, 2026 – By Mike Sain't Louis

History books record the laws, the marches, the important dates. But if, fifty years from now, someone wants to know how a gay man lived in an ordinary Spanish-speaking city on an ordinary Tuesday afternoon, they won't find it there. If they're lucky, they'll find it in the songs.

I've been thinking about my own songs that way for a while now: as entries in a diary that isn't entirely mine. A collective diary, messy, written in scraps, kept for a community that for a very long time had nobody writing down its small things.

Let me say who's writing this. I'm an indie alternative artist based in Madrid, and I call myself the first AI singer-songwriter. I write every lyric. The music and the vocal performance are made with artificial intelligence, as a production and arrangement tool. The words, the ideas and the artistic direction are mine. My project is called PLANETA GAYFOLK, and I run it from my own independent label, with no record company and no middlemen.

Small things are history too

There's a widespread idea that important songs have to be about important things. Freedom, struggle, love with a capital L. Those songs exist, and we need them. But the daily life of queer people isn't made only of big moments. It's made of neighbours who stare, boyfriends who never help with anything, diets abandoned by Wednesday.

When I give a song a title like 'La dieta del cucurucho' – the ice-cream-cone diet – or 'La vecina cotilla' – the nosy neighbour – I'm writing down something no newspaper would ever print. And that is exactly why I think it's worth something. You don't understand a community only through its victories. You understand it through its habits, its inside jokes, the way it complains about the same problems as everybody else, but in its own way.

Love between men, exes, pride, self-esteem and everyday life all turn up across my catalogue. That last one, everyday life, is the one that interests me most as a chronicler. The everyday life of a gay man who does the grocery shopping, argues with his partner over the remote and laughs at his own luck has far fewer.

273 pages

In about two years I've released 273 singles and more than 280 music videos. I see them as 273 pages of a diary. Some are long; some are barely a note in the margin. Some I still think are spot on, and some make me cringe a little, the way any diary does when you reread it.

You don't keep a diary so that every page is perfect. You keep it so that, together, the pages tell you something. If anyone listened to all 273 in one go – which I don't recommend to anyone in a hurry – I think they'd get a fairly faithful picture of what worried, amused and hurt people at a particular moment. Contradictions included.

That volume has a downside, of course. Some people think so much output cheapens each song. I understand. Sometimes I think so too. But a diary you only write on the good days ends up being a photo album, not a diary. I wanted something closer to the second.

An archive you can actually look things up in

Diaries have one big problem: they get lost. Songs go the same way. They come out, people listen for a season, and then they sink to the bottom of the platforms.

That's why it matters so much to me that mikesaintlouis.com has an A-to-Z lyrics section. It means this diary can be read, searched and quoted. In a few years, if someone wants to know what a song said about a boyfriend from Albacete or about a first drag queen, they'll find it written down, with no need to transcribe it by ear. Every song is there with its lyrics, free to stream and free to download.

The GAYFOLK trilogy is another way of putting the diary in order. If the singles are loose entries, the three albums are the chapters. 'Descubierto un nuevo planeta llamado GAYFOLK' is the chapter where you find out there's a place where you can be who you are. 'Ojalá se pudiera viajar a GAYFOLK' is the chapter of longing. 'El día de la liberación' is the one where you arrive.

What gets written so it isn't forgotten

Some communities have lost a good part of their memory because nobody wrote it down, or because it couldn't be written down. LGBTQ people know a lot about that. Whole generations whose love stories were told in whispers, or never told at all, and that we only know today in fragments.

Songs have often been the only place where that memory survived. A lyric sung in a bar, a song everyone knew that on the surface seemed to be about something else.

I have a kind of luck others didn't have: I can write without disguise. I don't have to hide the boyfriend behind a pronoun. That freedom is part of why I write the way I do, explicit when the song needs it, funny when it can be, and honest about the parts that hurt. With professional help, I've also turned years of relationships with narcissistic partners into music, because that is part of the diary too, and because people going through it deserve to feel seen and believed.

A note for listeners in Canada

Still, I suspect the nosy neighbour, the abandoned diet and the boyfriend who never does the dishes travel well. My songs are mostly in Spanish, with some in English, French and Portuguese, and every lyric is published in full, so you can read along with a translation open beside it. If something in one of those pages sounds like your own life, then the diary has done its job.

Where to listen

All 273 singles of PLANETA GAYFOLK can be streamed and downloaded free, lyrics included, at https://mikesaintlouis.com. You'll also find them on Spotify, Deezer and the main platforms. More on my blog.

About Mike Sain't Louis

Mike Sain't Louis is a Madrid-based indie alternative artist who calls himself 'the first AI singer-songwriter': lyricist, composer, music producer, art director and CEO of his independent label, MIKE SAIN'T LOUIS. His song 'Tan Cateto' went viral on TikTok in 2024.

Press contact

Email: info@mikesaintlouis.com Website: https://mikesaintlouis.com Instagram: @planetagayfolk