Exti Turned “Broken Hearts” Into a Live Canvas and Concert With Rey de Corazones Rotos

Album release events have become increasingly creative. Exti's showcase in Wynwood, for example, revolved around his groundbreaking project, Rey de Corazones Rotos, a visceral combination of rock music, painting, interactive design, and social mission.

"If you didn't feel like you walked into my head, then I didn't do my job," Exti reflects the next day, still running on adrenaline. The intimate yet expansive performance was staged inside his glass-front atelier, Banda Curita, nestled in the heart of Miami's art district. It was a moment equal parts confessional and carnival — all created for an audience that got to witness art as it was born.

Born Santiago Cabezas in Buenos Aires, Exti speaks of his childhood as a tapestry of music and solitary drawing. Raised in a quiet home with older siblings and busy parents, he taught himself to create with a soundtrack of his own emotional frequency. "I couldn't work without music," he says. "Art and sound were always one."

Years of exploration followed — visual art, puppetry, theatre, songwriting. Then painting reentered his life not as an aesthetic choice, but as therapeutic necessity. "I realized that these are not songs," he says of his work, "they're band-aids for the soul. First they heal me. Then maybe they heal someone else."
This deeply personal yet outward-giving framework is Rey de Corazones Rotos — the culmination of years of multidisciplinary practice. The 18-track album, released May 23, immerses listeners in a cascade of rock soul-searching and sharp emotional honesty. It's scarcely surprising to find pop sensibilities and urban lyricism in his previous singles — "Viuda Negra", "Mi Próximo Error", "Aunque Te Mentí" — but this project takes those varied threads and weaves them in live color and texture.

The album — and the event — felt surgical in its authenticity. Exti painted murals live. He spun music, improvised lyrics, and coaxed friends to play like it was rehearsal in his heart. The piece "Milagro," performed as the night's closer, thundered through the room with guitar lines that nodded to Foo Fighters, Incubus, and Soda Stereo, yet distilled into a singular, sun-streaked anguish. "It's not a tribute," he says, "it's a memory in melody. It's DNA." He laughs about recognizing echoes of Los Auténticos Decadentes in one of his own songs — "it wasn't conscious; it was in me."

Beyond the visual and musical spectacle, what sets Exti apart is his ethos: everything sells with a purpose. Vinyl, art prints, branded sneakers, and even logo merch from the interactive videogame tied to the album — all proceeds funnel back into Miami-based art programming. Graffiti classes, mural workshops, career-building seminars: Banda Curita is as much a community anchor as an exhibition or studio.
Though the space doesn't keep gallery hours, Exti insists it lives in spirit: "If you have an idea, or just want to stop by, DM me," he says. It's a private operation with public potential — a place for shared curiosity, not exclusive perfection.

There's a risk in such a vulnerability. In a city saturated with creative acts, what happens when you offer your bruises as your billboard? Exti shrugs. "People come to judge, to see if it's 'good enough.' But if someone leaves with something in their mind, something in their chest, I've done my job."

The Wynwood event proved the model works. The room vibrated with an audience that was part friend group, part nomadic arts faithful. Exti's band — all longtime allies — played with the relaxed ferocity of those who jam for the love of connection, not applause. "We had so much fun," he says, recalling how the musicians begged to do it again. "We will."

In a culture where art often feels sealed behind velvet ropes, this was an offering: "Bring me your denim jacket, your idea, your restlessness," he invites, gesturing toward his messy-painted studio. "Doors are open — not exclusive, but inviting."

He pauses, glances at a half-finished painting of a bleeding heart. "This is for everyone."