The new rules of Spanish pop: "Before, they'd tell you, 'These are your 12 songs, record them.'"

"Play it fast," Greta says. "But how do I play it fast?" Ainoa replies. "Double arrow." "But do you like it when I do tick-tacks ? " "Maybe not so extreme." "Well, one to the right and one to the left, and that's it." That tick-tack is a small space in a computer program. A tiny fragment between rows and rows of colors on a widescreen computer screen that is surgically altered to become part of a pop song.

The production studio is absolutely silent: the walls are insulated. The lighting is dim except for the glow of the monitor and two laptops, placed on the desk beneath which lies a piano keyboard.

With two mouse clicks, that rhythm can be slightly modified to create one tiquipum or another. Completely different for Ainoa Buitrago , composer, producer, and musician. Barely perceptible to the general public.

Buitrago , born in Madrid, is credited as a composer on songs by singers such as Ana Guerra, Miki Núñez, and David Bisbal . She knows the entire process of creating a song firsthand, from scratch to when it's uploaded to Spotify. In fact, she wrote, composed, and produced one of her latest songs, Nostalgia , all by herself. "I made it in 15 minutes and didn't give it any more thought," she explains. "The process was harder in terms of production: I didn't know how to structure it. I knew it was a really good song, but I didn't want to screw it up in terms of production."

Artists today are much more involved in musical composition and know how to create a perfect pop song to hit the charts (or try to) by their own rules. New rules. In Spain in 2001, the year of the first Operación Triunfo , it was more common for composers to offer a pre-made work to a performer to sing. In today's Spain, young performers are involved in creating their own hits: lyrics, chords, and melody.

"Before, it was more important that a song had a chance of success on the radio, that it sounded powerful," says the Madrid native. "Everything was much more dictated by the industry," she adds. "Now they give you absolute freedom. All they want is a great hit to get on the radio and that's it; we artists take care of the rest ." Although there's no magic formula for a song to succeed: "I'm not going to make a song and tell a singer, 'You'll kill them with this,' because if that were the case, I'd make it for myself first."

That industry Buitrago refers to, from the late 90s and early 2000s, "this whole Vale Music phenomenon, the Triunfitos," Franchejo Blázquez defines as "very old-fashioned": " Those people asked for repertoire and chose from what was available , letting themselves be advised a lot by their record company." There were contestants on Operación Triunfo who were told by the record company: "These are your 12 songs, record them."

"Now, with the knowledge and influences people have, Spanish music is in a very good moment."

Franchejo Blázquez

The explanation is simple, according to this artist manager, CEO of Suricato Music and professor of Music Business Fundamentals: "It was a time when so many records were being sold that the content didn't really matter." Blázquez is blunt in his words: " They made a record that was a bit disposable ."

That boom period ended with the end of piracy and illegal downloads. Blázquez comments that there was a change in rules in the 2000s due to this problem, "because record labels saw that their flagship product was suddenly beginning to plummet." "When Alejandro Sanz released Más (1997) or El alma al aire (2000), pallets of 200 records lasted 10 minutes at El Corte Inglés," he describes. "That doesn't exist now."

According to Promusicae, record sales fell from €700 million in 2001 to €160 million in 2013. That was the year in which recorded music sold the least in Spain. And the year in which sales began to rise steadily. Last year, more than €500 million was spent on recorded music. However, the digital format leads the way: it accounts for 89% of last year's figures.

Blázquez warns: " There is a lot of good music being made, but I also think there is a lot of bad music being made ; since there is a lot of music to be made, a lot of it is bad."

Nor is it one of those that the past was better: "In the past, there were many terrible records and some good ones, but now with the knowledge and influences that people have, Spanish music is in a very good moment." "One composer I always champion is Antonio Flores," he says, "and many composers and music experts say that Rosario 's De Ley is one of the best pop albums ever made in our country. But in the past, there were more Sonias and Selenas than De Leyes ."

"There's a big difference between old-school composers and today's composers."

Yarea Guillén

Regarding the current state of music, he offers several examples: " Maria José Llergo, Dani Fernández, Paula Koops, Valeria Castro, Judeline, Arde Bogotá ..." The list is endless. "We have some really good people."

Yarea Guillén joins this group of young artists and composers. She has credits on songs by Dani Fernández, Edurne, Candela Gómez, and Charlie USG . For Guillén, the initial spark for creating a song can be something very everyday: "This morning I was in the car, a melody came to me, and I recorded it while stopped at a traffic light, more or less with the lyrics," says the young performer and creator.

That initial idea is worked on with the producer, and a provisional voice is recorded. Another day, when she was "really angry," she mentioned to her producer, Álex Granero: "I argued with my partner. I want to do a song about this. Give me a pitch. So Alex gives me a few pitches until I connect with one and say, 'That one, let's go for it.'"

With wheels, the Bilbao native refers to chord progressions, and explains: "I really like D minor, F, C, G. It's my wheel of hits ; it sounds very nostalgic." She explains that there are also "super-legendary" pop chords: "C major, A minor, G, D major."

Yarea is revealing chords used in songs such as Hey Jude by the Beatles , Zombie by The Cranberries (A minor), Imagine by John Lennon (C major) or Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran (D major).

As an example of a song with its "wheel of hits", the composer does not hesitate to pick up the guitar and details: "Part C of Me has invitado a bailar , by Dani Fernández , now I don't know how it will be because we changed the tone so that he could sing it. When we composed it, we created it like these heartbreaking parts that you mention..." And she directly begins to sing: "No, I don't know what will happen, but I think I have much more at stake..."

Artists are increasingly participating and becoming more involved in the creative process, but things used to be very different: "There's a big difference between old-school composers and those of today," Yarea explains.

She recalls the time she and Fernández attended a session with a composer in his mid-50s. "He'd already written an entire beat and had a vocal melody line," she recalls. The only thing missing was the lyrics, and they both felt it wasn't what they wanted: "The song's fine, but I didn't write it." " I saw a generational leap ," she observes.

In fact, when she started in the music industry, the young artist thought there were great composers who wrote songs for others, "like demigods from Olympus hiding there." And she's not far off the mark. The great Manuel Alejandro wrote "Yo soy aquel" by Raphael or "Yo soy rebelde" by Jeanette . Neither the Jaén native nor the British singer are credited for composing the song.

The current paradigm is different. Paula Koops , a young performer with over 300,000 monthly listeners on Spotify, considers it crucial to be involved, not only in the composition of her music, but beyond: "To connect with people, I need my projects to be autobiographical and reflect my experiences. That's why I participate in the entire creative process, from the idea and composition to the music video and performances. I like to be involved in every detail."

Ainoa Buitrago explains that sometimes "people come with nothing and just go with the flow." "The record label sends them to you looking for radio-friendly songs, and as a composer, you do a lot of empathy." And she compares that work to another profession: "I'm like a translator; you tell me something and we look for a way to find it. It happened to me with Miki Núñez , who started telling me something about her grandmother who was sick, and we made a really beautiful song in 15 minutes, and it's one of the coolest songs I've ever made." The song in question: Dime que no duele .

There is, however, a part of the project that eludes even the performer. That moment when the computer tiquipums are king: in the silence of the studio and in front of a large computer screen, the production process takes place.

"The producer will ask you not to send the demo to anyone or listen to it a thousand times, because then you'll become obsessed and get 'demo-itis'."

Ainoa is producing one of her own songs: lyrics, music, and vocals. "I did the production master at Warner," she clarifies. To finish another song, Nostalgia , she included "13 guitars, a ton of electric guitar arrangements, but without a super-dense production. It's very well-crafted, but it's minimalist." And all those guitars must be quantized: "Quantizing is adjusting the speed of that instrument, the BPM ( beats per minute). To do this process, you use a DAW, the software for shaping that song: for example, Logic, Abelton, or Pro Tools."

For production, the ideal is to have the final vocals already recorded and in that DAW. But in this case, the song had a minor recording problem, which was a cold: "I'm working without the final vocals due to deadlines, because this vocal isn't the final one, so I'll record them again." Ainoa seems unaware that her "unfinal" vocals sound fantastic.

Marta Berlín , an emerging singer from Madrid who already has thousands of monthly listeners on Spotify, considers the role of the producer to be crucial: "Sometimes I record ideas at home and send them to the producer , because they understand the direction you're going in. Having them on your team is super important." The demo recorded in the studio, the producer "will ask you not to send it to anyone, or listen to it a thousand times, because then you'll become obsessed and get demoitis , which is a term that's used a lot."

To complete the song, there are still two steps left. What Ainoa has on her computer must be exported for mixing, adjusting the volume. "When everyone is happy with the mix, it's mastered, which basically involves turning up the song's volume without distortion."

The magic has already been done. A song is created, uploaded to digital platforms, and sent to the radio. With luck, what Paula Koops dreams of will happen: "That, suddenly, a song goes mega-viral and helps you fill a Movistar Arena, and whatever you imagine in your head happens, right?"