The person behind the sound

I was three, tagging along to watch my godfather play in a Deep Purple tribute band. I don't remember deciding to love music. I just remember the volume.

Later, a neighbour taught me my first chords — but refused to teach me the lead part of the song I couldn't let go of. So I called radio stations and asked them to play it, again and again, and learned it by ear.

Years later I found out that ability had a name: relative pitch. By then it was just how I heard the world.

Playing by ear gets you into the room. Studying keeps you useful once you're there.

I studied guitar at the Faculty of Music in Rosario — several years toward the degree before life had other plans. The paper never arrived; the knowledge stayed, and it still shows up in every arrangement I write.

Around that time I met Nacho Novarino, the first important friend I made in music. He opened the doors that mattered — live shows, production, audiovisual work — the first proof that this could be a life, not just a love.

Producing for other people began as a way to earn a living. It became the reason I do any of this.

Translating someone else's emotion into a record asks for more than technique — it asks you to care about their dream as if it were your own. Supporting that dream, from first listen to final master, builds the kind of connection that outlasts the release date.

Leaving Argentina turned the volume up on everything.

I've worked in my field across six countries and in four languages — English, Spanish, Italian and Portuguese. Every room taught me a different way to listen, and every language gave the songs another door in.

MONTELEONE is where it all integrates — less scattered energy, one name, one person at the centre of every capability.