One song. Two parents. 3000 km. Mandinga releases “Perdóname.”

Mandingo. - Contrbuted photo
Mandingo. – Contrbuted photo

Press release –

Some songs are made on stage, but mostly for the stage. “Perdóname” was made in the middle of the night, phone in hand, mind wandering 3000 kilometers away.

And that’s exactly why “Perdóname” is a completely different single from anything you’ve heard from Mandinga before.

After nearly 25 years of making audiences move and dance, Mandinga shows it also has the power to make things – and people – stop. And listen. At least for one song.

Because not every single needs a dancefloor. Sometimes all you need is an empty room and an honest heart.

This is the first time Mandinga steps into flamenco territory with a production and composition, “Perdóname” being an authentic urban-flamenco ballad. It couldn’t have been any other way, really. There had to be pure Spain in a personal letter from Barbara to her parents in Madrid that was never sent. In a voice message that never arrived anywhere.

“You should know there’s a version of Barbara that never left Madrid. That Barbara has dinner with her parents every Sunday. But that same Barbara also wrote Perdóname.” – Barbara Isasi

“I think the bravest and most admirable thing about Perdóname is not the lyrics. It’s Barbara herself, trusting that we needed to make this song at Mandinga. That says everything – about Barbara and about Mandinga. That’s why I’m convinced that for Barbara, we are also her family. Mandinga. And because in a family everything is done together, Perdóname is also our letter to her parents. It’s the most personal musical act we’ve ever done, but more importantly, the one we truly wanted. It’s the song of one family to another, written and sung by the one who belongs to both.” – Chupi Tool (Mandinga’s founding member, drummer and producer)

On the technical and musical side of things, the production actually shortened the distance between Madrid and Bucharest because the song was recorded in both cities. Pedro Espinosa, who you may know playing alongside Javi Medina, is the one “guilty” of the guitar that brings Barbara so close to home. The percussion – cajón, palmas, bongos – belongs to Babany and Chupi, while bass is Dani Joo’s. Production is of course an internal affair of the entire Mandinga family. Executive production was handled by Daniel Dumitru, while mix and master were done by Dragomir Gabriel-Iulian.

The music video is a story in 4 minutes. There couldn’t have been a better choice than Dan Petcan, who captured perfectly and simply the entire mood of the song, all of Barbara’s sincerity, and the fact that Mandinga is the family away from family – one that doesn’t replace anything, but simply stands beside her and loves her unconditionally.

Barbara Isasi of Mandinga. – Contributed photo

Mandinga is more than a band. It’s a state of mind – a vibrant energy built on explosive live shows and the joy of creating unforgettable moments with their audience.

Formed in 2003, Mandinga blends Latin genres (salsa, reggaeton, bachata, cumbia) with brass, pop and electronic influences. Five studio albums, a Eurovision appearance in 2012 with ‘Zaleilah’ (Gold Disc), and over two decades on stage sharing bills with artists like Maluma.

Since 2016, Barbara Isasi – born in Madrid with Cuban roots – has been the voice of Mandinga, evolving the sound toward Urban Latin, Afrobeat and Modern Flamenco with tracks like “Soy de Cuba”, “Estoy Aqui” and “Mala”.

But behind the brass and the energy, there’s another side to Mandinga – the side that comes out at 3 AM when the stage is empty and the truth is too heavy to carry alone. “Perdóname” is that side. Barbara wrote it as a real letter to her parents in Madrid – to her Spanish mother (“morena mía”) and her Cuban father (“mulato mío”). A slow urban-flamenco ballad built on Spanish guitar, cajón and palmas. No brass. No party. Just a daughter asking forgiveness, held safely by the band she calls her second family.

Because that’s what Mandinga is for Barbara – family. Not colleagues, not session musicians. The people who hold her when the phone call home ends too quickly. She left one dinner table in Madrid and found another one in Bucharest, with louder people and worse table manners. But they show up. Every time. “Perdóname” could only exist in a band where vulnerability is not a risk but a right.

If you ever left home to follow a dream, you know the cost. It’s not money. It’s not time. It’s the look on your mother’s face when you leave again after Christmas. This song is for you too.

Today, Mandinga operates under Mandinga Production – their own label, their own rules, their own vision.

https://mandinga.ro/