Sandro Castro Dives into Cuban Music Scene with "La Cristach"

Sandro Castro has once again captured attention with another of his infamous antics. This time, he is venturing into the Cuban music scene with a track called "La Cristach." The song, which he performs alongside a trio of young artists who call themselves "the sons of Obatalá," features Ericito el 13, Yamlexis de Good Boy, and Esteylor. In an Instagram video, the grandson of dictator Fidel Castro can be seen exuberantly declaring, "Feel the bite that's coming, bastards," as an introduction to the track. Although he isn't the main performer, his on-screen presence and overwhelming enthusiasm indicate that, with all his luxury and free time, he struggles to find something meaningful to do with his life.

The song itself, at times unintelligible, is yet another nonsensical linguistic creation that epitomizes Sandro's style: a pretentious chaos masquerading as urban art. Rather than showcasing creativity, it reveals a complete disconnection from the reality of the nation he inhabits. Sandro wrote, "Get rich with the vampirash and your cristach," in what seems like an ongoing delusion.

An Endless Delirium

Sandro continues to use social media as his personal stage to release his "works." Recently, he delivered rambling monologues from empty pools, architectural ruins, and closed bars, sending messages to Donald Trump with phrases like "Patria is humanity," or celebrating Father's Day by encouraging people to "have a Cristach and smoke a tabacach in my honor." In another instance, he absurdly recommended "nine beers a day" as a health formula, completely detached from reality.

An Institutionalized Insult

While some view his antics as absurd, others see them as an intolerable mockery. In a country where millions endure poverty wages, blackouts, and shortages, Sandro flaunts inherited privileges and an insulting lifestyle. His content lacks genuine criticism or serious proposals. It is pure provocation, extravagance, and the assurance that his last name shields him from consequences.

Even when he occasionally hints at critiques of the regime—such as liking posts mocking Díaz-Canel—he does so from the comfort of someone who has never faced the repressive apparatus that others suffer. He is the jester of a privileged class, a symbol of an elite that doesn't need to hide its disdain for the people because it has never been held accountable.

A Grotesque Reflection of Impunity

Sandro Castro is more than just a wealthy young man pretending to be an artist. He is the most grotesque product of a system that promised revolution but ended up consuming itself in privileges, hypocrisies, and figures like him: heirs of power who scorn those who support it. "La Cristach," like many of his other performances, is merely another episode of delusional self-celebration. It is an empty shout from within a golden bubble, while below, in the real Cuba, people wait in endless lines for a piece of chicken.