Neither elegant evening gowns nor layers of makeup, Merian breaks all the stereotypes of Creole music performers with his shaved hair, nose piercing and ties. 

Better known as Eme, the singer has revolutionized traditional Peruvian music in a country that, as he admits, still "rejects diversity." 

Heir to the sounds of the Andes, with his album "Raíz/es" he managed to connect boleros, waltzes and huaynos with a young audience by exploding the most hackneyed ideas about music and gender identity. 

"Being a woman is an ideology," said the popular Mexican interpreter in an interview. With three albums to her name and some 1980s inspired sounds, the music for Zemmoa (derived from the French 'c'est moi' or "it's me") is her "mere mole".

The singer, producer and model does not usually define herself as a trans person, but rather as a woman to all intents and purposes, but she knows that she is a beacon for other identities that are not very visible in the musical world. 

"I'm in that battle. Now we are more women like me representing," ZEMMOA said. 

When a record label closed the door on her for daring to show her gender identity, the artist decided to create her own company, Zemmporio Record, and songs like "Te enterraré el tacón" have become hymns as visceral as they are proud. The proof that defending LGTBQ rights is not incompatible with having a good time and, why not, being a bit ruthless. 

"Come dance with me, bitches, angels, demons, darlings!" says Mx Matias on her Bandcamp. 

An artist who has captivated many with her satire and humorous lyrics and who also plays all the styles, from cumbia, bossa nova, flamenco and samba to house and electropop. 

The spirit of a trans artist from Los Angeles who is being unstoppable and who composes and produces Latin queer music turning pop culture upside down. As shown by the hit "Sailor Cumbia," based on the anime classic Sailor Moon.

Beyond this anti-everything LGBTQ punk band from Bogotá (Colombia) is the "artivist" Daniela Maldonado, who sings about trans people and sex workers and the violence and exclusion they suffer, but uses satirical, harsh and stereotype-destroying lyrics. 

"We transgendered sex workers had no space to work or participate within the LGBTQ population. We were mocked, criticized. The hardest hit were gays and lesbians. That's why we decided to take action on our own," explained the Colombian woman, who had been a sex worker and knew first hand about sexual and physical violence. 

Radamel 666's studio album, Ruptura de ligamento cruzado (2019) is pure poison for oppression and every time they take to the stage their thundering punk and uncensored performances are a torpedo to the most narrow-minded morals