Tony Mils Talks Music, Miami and Making His Own Name

When Tony Mils says he's had a "short but long journey," he's talking about the kind of whirlwind that most artists dream of — and very few achieve by the age of 20. In just a few years, the Mexican singer-songwriter has gone from writing in his bedroom to collaborating with Sebastián Yatra, recording with Juan Magán, sharing creative space with Edgar Barrera, and opening for Marc Anthony at the prestigious Starlite Festival in Spain.

For Mils, that festival performance — on a stage that's also hosted legends like Raphael, Seal, and Gilberto Santa Rosa — was more than just a career milestone. "It was special. Those are the moments you dream about when you start making music," he tells New Times. "You look out into the crowd and realize you're exactly where you want to be."

It's a long way from where his story began: in Mexico City, in a family whose name carries more weight in business than in music. Born Antonio Slim Serrano, Mils is the son of Marco Antonio Slim Domit, president of Grupo Financiero Inbursa and a key figure in the family's vast corporate empire. His grandfather, Carlos Slim Helú, is one of the most recognized business magnates in the world, the founder of Grupo Carso and the force behind companies like Telmex, América Móvil, and Sanborns.

Choosing a path outside that legacy wasn't easy. "At first, it was a shock," he says. "But my family told me, 'We'll support you emotionally, but you have to earn your own place in the music industry. We won't hand you opportunities.' It was the best thing they could've done for me. It meant I had to learn, to make mistakes, and to work for every chance I got."
Music came early, thanks to his mother's influence. "She played a lot of Michael Jackson when I was little. That's when the spark was lit," he recalls. By age 15, he knew music was more than a hobby. Four years later, a meeting with Roberto Andrade, former manager of Sebastián Yatra, took him to Colombia to start recording seriously.

"Those early days were about chiseling stone," Mils says. "I had to figure out the industry from scratch. I didn't grow up with musicians around me, so it was trial and error — sometimes very painful error. But it taught me everything I know now."

That discipline and his instinct for storytelling fuel his debut album Escribí Esto Para Ti. The 13-track project is deeply personal — a reflection of love, heartbreak, and the vulnerable side of masculinity. "I wanted listeners to really know me," he says. "Men cry, too. We can be vulnerable, and that's not weakness. I wanted to challenge that stereotype."

Part of the album was born in Miami, a city Mils now calls his "happy place." "Miami feels like home. It's where I recharge, where ideas come to me," he says. "I split my time between here and Mexico City, but I hope to perform here soon. The energy is unmatched."

That energy shows in the album's emotional range. Songs shift from soaring pop ballads to rhythms with a tropical pulse, echoing the diversity of his influences — from the passion of Luis Miguel and the rock edge of Maná to the richness of regional Mexican music. "What I love about older Latin songs is how direct they are, how passionate," he says. "They make you feel like the singer is speaking just to you. That's the feeling I wanted for this album — that you, the listener, feel seen."

He's equally clear about not chasing trends. "I'm not interested in following whatever's hot right now. My songs are like conversations with me, no masks, just truth. If you talk to me over coffee, it's the same language you'll hear in my music."

That authenticity, he believes, is what's driving the resurgence of Latin pop. "Urban music broke barriers without having to do a crossover. Now Latin pop is doing the same," he says. "The world is paying attention, and it's the perfect moment for my project. We're just seeing the beginning of what it can be."

Opening for Marc Anthony only reinforced his commitment to staying true to himself. "Marc told me to always give the same heart whether it's five people or 100,000. You never know what each person went through to be at your show, the work they did to buy a ticket, the hours they traveled. You owe them everything when you're on that stage."
Though his last name could have opened certain doors, Mils insists that carving his own path is essential. He's proud of his family and grateful for their love, but his music is his own. "I carry my family in my essence and in my heart," he says. "But I'm creating my own story. It's more rewarding when you know you did it yourself."

That independent streak extends even to the little things — like giving out free tickets to family members who, he jokes, "really should be the ones buying first." He laughs, imagining the Sunday family lunches where he might lose bargaining power if he doesn't cave. "In the end, I'll give them tickets. But maybe next time they'll surprise me."

The grind of the music industry, he admits, has been eye-opening. "The hardest part was realizing I knew nothing about how it worked. I've had to learn the business side as I go, and sometimes the lessons come the hard way. But that's also the beautiful part — you're always learning, always growing."

That growth is visible not just in his music but in the way he talks about the road ahead. He wants to keep expanding creatively, collaborating across genres, and bringing his live show to new cities — Miami among them. "I can't wait to share my music here. So much of this album was born in this city; it feels right to bring it back to the people who were part of its energy."

For now, Escribí Esto Para Ti is his love letter — to the people who've shaped him, to the fans who find themselves in his lyrics, and to the cities that have fueled his creativity. "When you hear it," he says, "I hope you feel like it was written just for you. Because, in a way, it was."

From Mexico City to Miami, from a household name in business to a name emerging in music, Tony Mils is making it clear that his story won't be defined by anyone else's legacy. It's one of passion, resilience, and the belief that vulnerability is a strength, especially when you're brave enough to put it in a song.