I Went Looking for Flamenco Fans and Found a Man Typing at 2 a.m.: A Listening Diary with Mike Sain't Louis

Madrid, October 25, 2026 – I came to Mike Sain't Louis with a picture in my head. Spain, queer pop, a song called “Almodovar”: I expected ruffles, a hand fan snapping open on the downbeat, a raised stage under a single spotlight. The postcard version of copla, the dramatic Spanish song tradition queer audiences long ago made their own. What I got instead, over one long evening with headphones on, was a man on his phone at two in the morning, a psychologist's advice he can't follow, and a joke about a Spanish internet forum that stopped me cold.

8:40 p.m. — Getting the facts straight

Mike Sain't Louis is an indie alternative artist based in Madrid who presents himself as “the first AI singer-songwriter.” He writes every one of his lyrics. He is also composer, music producer, artistic director and CEO of his own independent label, MIKE SAIN'T LOUIS. No record company, no middlemen. The music and the vocal performances are generated with artificial intelligence, which he uses as a production and arranging tool; the words, the concept and the decisions are his.

His project, PLANETA GAYFOLK, holds 273 singles and more than 280 music videos, built over roughly two years. They form a trilogy imagined as one journey toward a planet where everyone can live exactly as they are. The styles range from electropop to copla, from alternative pop to ballads, mostly in Spanish with songs in English, French and Portuguese too. Many found him in 2024, when “Tan Cateto” went viral on TikTok.

So copla really is part of the palette. But my two songs borrow something else from it.

9:15 p.m. — “Almodovar,” or melodrama as a measuring stick

“Almodovar” is short and almost entirely built on one gesture. The lyric opens with a warning, “No me hagas hablar / que ni Almodovar” – don't make me talk, not even Almodóvar could top this. Then it lands on a stretched-out confession, “ya no te quiero,” I don't love you anymore, the vowels pulled long the way a copla singer holds a final note until the room goes quiet.

That's where the copla lives here: not in costume, but in scale. The heartbreak is measured against the most famous Spanish film director alive, and the pain is described as heavier than a Goya, Spain's national film award. It's camp in the exact sense of the word, exaggeration that knows it is exaggerating. And then, in the middle of the grandeur, the lyric drops a crude, very human admission of how the whole mess started. The hand fan snaps shut. You laugh, then realize the “ya no te quiero” was not a joke.

When I asked about this, Mike answered the way his blog reads: plainly, with a grin. “People think camp is the wig. It isn't. It's knowing exactly when to put the wig on. If I compare my breakup to an Almodóvar film, it's because the breakup really felt that big, and because the only way to survive feeling that ridiculous is to say it out loud first.”

10:05 p.m. — “Forocoches,” and no fan in sight

Then I put on “Forocoches,” and the stage lights went off entirely.

This one is a clock. Seven in the evening, the day finally over, cold sweats, an empty bottle in the trash, scrolling an ex's Instagram. Two in the morning, still awake, crying, unable to stop himself from sending the messages he knows will start a war tomorrow. The chorus keeps returning to the photos, to everything the two of them could have been.

There is a detail I keep thinking about. The psychologist, the lyric says, told him to start exercising. He has no strength left. He has lost his bearings. Nobody puts that in a song; it's too small, too true. And then comes the joke that isn't one: waking up among thirty insults and reproaches, he can no longer tell whether it's his own life or Forocoches, a sprawling Spanish internet forum notorious for its pile-ons. For a Spanish listener, it lands instantly.

The song also touches on darker thoughts, briefly and without dressing them up. It's worth saying clearly: Mike has spoken publicly about turning years of relationships with narcissistic partners into music, with professional help, to give visibility to narcissistic and psychological abuse and the marks it leaves on mental health, so that people living through it feel seen and believed. “Forocoches” sits right in that territory.

“I don't write those songs to look tragic,” he told me. “I write them because at two in the morning I needed someone to describe exactly that, the phone, the photos, the stupid advice I couldn't follow. If somebody else is there tonight, I want them to find it.”

11:20 p.m. — Where the copla actually is

Listening back to back, I understood my mistake: I'd been looking for copla in the props. What he takes from the tradition is its emotional contract: you are allowed to suffer enormously and in public, and nobody gets to tell you it's too much. “Almodovar” uses that contract to make you laugh. “Forocoches” uses it to make you stay.

The photo with this piece agrees: no sequins, no fan, just a dark coat, a cliff and grey water. Drama as weather, not costume.

Why American listeners should press play

For US audiences raised on confessional songwriting, this is familiar ground in an unfamiliar accent. The late-night spiral, the therapist's advice, the ex's feed: these are universal. What's new is the frame: a Madrid artist openly using AI for the music, signing every word himself, pairing Spanish melodrama with internet deadpan. Full lyrics are posted alongside every song.

“I don't need you to understand every word,” Mike said. “I need you to understand when I'm joking and when I'm not. Usually it's both.”

Where to listen

Every song by Mike Sain't Louis can be streamed and downloaded for free at mikesaintlouis.com, each with its full lyrics, including “Almodovar” and “Forocoches.” His music is also available on Spotify, Deezer and the main streaming platforms. Instagram: @planetagayfolk.

About Mike Sain't Louis

Mike Sain't Louis is a Madrid-based indie alternative artist who calls himself “the first AI singer-songwriter.” He writes all of his lyrics and runs his own independent label, directing a sound made with artificial intelligence. His PLANETA GAYFOLK project, a catalog of 273 singles and more than 280 music videos released over about two years, mixes humor, camp and unfiltered honesty about love, exes and queer life in Spain.

Press contact

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