INTERVIEW: CANELLA’S Juliana Castrillon opens up about “Groomer”
All photos by Yasir Khan
“I don't have to hide and pretend that my life is perfect. By being more open about this, I feel like I've been able to heal even more.”
One of the most fascinating things about the Capital Region’s music scene is how many different realms our artists can operate in. There are acts that live for the DIY-ethos, opting for gritty shows in basements and invite-only spaces. There are those that play locally occasionally, but prefer to do a good chunk of their performing on the road, whether regionally or nationally. And then there are, of course, acts that long for the glory of playing the bigger stages at popular annual festivals and local concert series.
Canella is one of the rare bands that has been able to exist in each one of those realms successfully and authentically, and 2024 was their biggest year yet. It began back in February, when the quartet trekked down the East Coast for a self-booked tour that saw them reaching as far south as Miami where singer Juliana Castrillon’s parents reside.
“It was their first time ever seeing us play live, which was super cute,” she reflects.
Then, over the summer, the band had what may have been their biggest show to date, opening for Vanessa Carlton for downtown Albany’s Alive at Five series. In between it all was a slate of shows that spanned venues from DIY spaces to key alternative ones like No Fun in Troy, not to mention a handful of single releases sprinkled throughout.
Even amid such a busy schedule, they maintained and prioritized their undeniable bond, one that is clear to anyone who has even so much as seen one of their social media posts, let alone a live performance.
“Our thing has always been friendship,” Juliana tells me. “It’s the most important part. Music is just an excuse to have fun and to hang out. When we play together, it really is just us having fun on stage and doing the things that we want to do. I love just being on stage. And so to me, it's a super valuable experience because I perform with people that are like my best friends. It feels like a family.”
Having a bond like the one Juliana describes is almost a prerequisite for artistic success. Ask any member of any band and they’ll tell you the dynamic is not unlike being in a long-term relationship or an extended family. When things are going well, it’s the easiest experience in the world. But when things are tough, you’ve got to put in the work to get through it.
It’s this supportive dynamic that helped Juliana put out her most vulnerable song to date. “Groomer,” released on December 13th, sees the band setting aside the ‘poppier’ elements typically found in their songs, in favor of darker, more rhythmically challenging ones. Most importantly, the song features Juliana’s most personal lyrics to date, a musical document of a harrowing experience she had before she even turned 18.
“I wrote the song after a very traumatic experience that I had,” Juliana reveals. “It was a re-encounter with my old voice teacher [from Colombia]. It was a very small school and I always knew that my interactions with him were uncomfortable. A lot of things were normalized in that environment that, I learned through being in the States, weren't normal.”
Upon returning home after attending college at The College of Saint Rose (RIP), she went to visit her former school and some old friends. It was around that time she had finished recording a song called “No Escape”, which she felt very proud of and eventually released with Canella in 2022. She mentioned the song in passing to this professor, and he immediately expressed interest in listening to it.
“He basically just tore me apart,” Juliana recalls. “He started telling me all these awful things about how I did everything wrong and that it sounded horrible. He remixed the song in front of me, and I literally was in shock; I couldn't believe that he wasn't being supportive. That really destroyed me emotionally. He was basically saying, ‘Without me, you cannot have success in music. You need me.’ He told me to get rid of my band and tried to pull me away from my people.
“I came home to my sister and I told her every single tiny experience that I ever had with this professor. My sister’s a psychologist and she sat me down and told me this man had been grooming [me]. This was a huge shock because I didn't really know what grooming was. Obviously I'd heard of it, but I didn't really understand it. I was in denial.”
The experience left a long-term impact on Juliana, building a huge mental road block that hindered her from writing or releasing music. This nadir lasted for a few years thereafter; not being able to express herself through her biggest outlet was the catalyst for a period of horrible depression. Her biggest fear became criticism from anyone who might hear her music.
In the time since her interactions, Juliana began therapy to help process what she had been through. Upon realizing the extent of the manipulation she faced, she did something she hadn’t been able to do for far too long: she wrote. Lyrics like “I thought you’d be proud of me / But you ripped me piece by piece / You’re a preacher begging for believers / I refuse to join your coterie” poured out of her almost involuntarily, beginning to break the spell her professor had cast.
“It wasn’t until this year that I finally processed what happened and forgave myself,” she admits. “I felt guilty that I was put in that situation, which obviously is not my fault, but I did feel guilty. And so it wasn't until I kind of forgave my teenage self that I finally got out of that writer's block.”
“Groomer” is an absolute barnburner, an anthem of pure catharsis for Juliana, whose vocals soar over an intricate instrumental backdrop performed with ease by drummer Dan Carr, guitarist Gabe Klingler-Horn and bassist Joe Taurone. “The girl that you thought that I was when you met me… I’m older now,” she sneers near the end. It’s as if a bottle that contained every insecurity and frustration that her younger self held onto was shaken up and opened, the contents erupting all over a microphone. But, it took a while to pull that bottle off the shelf.
“When I wrote it originally, I still wasn't quite ready to accept what had happened,” she admits. “I was in a really long period of denial. I knew that this was something that happened, but I didn't want to admit or accept it was me, if that makes sense. Whenever I played it live, I just tried to think about it like it was a story that happened to someone else. And that's how I performed it for so long. The only time that I let myself really perform it like actually feeling my emotions was when I recorded it.”
Even after recording “Groomer,” Juliana was hesitant to release it to the public. Sure, it was therapeutic creating it, but the thought of having outside ears on it – particularly those she knew personally – was daunting. It would involve her explaining the situation to people like her parents, and so she kept it close to the chest, only performing it in a live setting.
“It wasn't until this year that I actually found out a couple girls that went to that music school had similar experiences,” she tells me. “I learned this, and I couldn’t stay quiet about it anymore. It needs to be something that gets put out there so that, you know, at least they don't feel alone.
“If it hadn't been for them, telling me about their experiences, I would have never healed. I would have continued to carry the virus myself. I feel like their bravery is what gave me the bravery to accept that I've been vulnerable, or like it's okay to accept that I was a victim. I don't have to hide and pretend that my life is perfect. By being more open about it, I feel like I've been able to heal even more.”
As personal and vulnerable as “Groomer” is, the mission for Juliana is to pay it forward – to offer other victims a sense of release and comfort. It is clear in speaking with her that she takes her platform seriously, and stresses in no uncertain terms that her proverbial inbox is both always open, and always a safe space.
“I think sometimes, you don't even know things are happening, or you don't feel comfortable enough moving on or accepting it, or even talking about it, unless somebody else opens up first. I want to say that I am here for anyone who has experienced something similar. I know how you feel, and I know that it's dark, but I hope I can be another person to remind you that you're not alone.”
“Groomer” is out now on all major streaming platforms. Pick your poison HERE and keep up with the band on Instagram @canellamusic
