Speaker 1: There are some icons who shine on both sides of
Speaker 1: the curtain.
Speaker 2: Mm hmm, your prains, you're Pharrell.
Speaker 1: The ones who know how to make a track sound
Speaker 1: just right, who can transform a song into a hit
Speaker 1: just by adding the perfect hook.
Speaker 3: The icons behind the icons, the ones who go from
Speaker 3: supporting players to center stage slowly.
Speaker 1: But Shirt and Today's icon, well, without him, some of
Speaker 1: the most important salsa artists and records might never have existed.
Speaker 3: They'd be regulated to deep cuts, footnotes, stuff that a
Speaker 3: hipster friend might tell you about but you can't remember
Speaker 3: because he gives you a twenty minute lecture about it
Speaker 3: with no PowerPoint.
Speaker 1: You hear that, Brian from cobble Hill. Next time, make
Speaker 1: it a PowerPoint party.
Speaker 2: Yeah, Brian, Wait, PowerPoint party.
Speaker 4: Whatever our producer said it was a thing.
Speaker 1: We don't do that around here, but we get how
Speaker 1: it could be really funny. Luckily, Brian's genre of choice
Speaker 1: will remain Eastern European disco because Salza had a Wheelie
Speaker 1: Colonne for a hit.
Speaker 3: Maker, trombonist, vocalist, arranger, producer and certified New yor Rican Royalty.
Speaker 1: As a New Yorker, Golan is deeply tied to the
Speaker 1: city's roughest and some would say most artistically explosive years.
Speaker 3: Fun fact, he also ran to be New York Congressman.
Speaker 3: He lost them.
Speaker 1: As in Bourriqua, he uplifted the music of his fellow Garibagios,
Speaker 1: empowering a whole generation of salsa artists to bridge gaps
Speaker 1: within the Latino community.
Speaker 4: We bah, it's weird to hear you say that. I mean,
Speaker 4: I like it. Listen.
Speaker 1: We accept all we except all onto the island anyway.
Speaker 1: As a American and a New Yorker, Golan has been
Speaker 1: an outspoken critic of dictatorship and a voice for the
Speaker 1: marginalized people he grew up with.
Speaker 3: Except these days where I'm not so crazy about the
Speaker 3: things Willie's been saying.
Speaker 4: Yeah, we're gonna get there, I promise.
Speaker 1: And like him or not agree or disagree with him,
Speaker 1: there is one thing that we can agree on. Willie
Speaker 1: Colonne is an irreplaceable part of Latin music.
Speaker 3: He paid the way for some of our favorites, from
Speaker 3: Sela Cruz to Mark Anthony.
Speaker 4: And it all started in the South Bronx.
Speaker 3: We off to the Pooky Down.
Speaker 1: I'm your host, Lilianavosquez and I'm Joseph Carrio and This
Speaker 1: is Becoming an Icon a weekly podcast where we give
Speaker 1: you the rundown on how today's most famous LATINX stars
Speaker 1: have shaped pop culture.
Speaker 2: And given the world some extra.
Speaker 4: Level Sit back and get comfortable.
Speaker 2: Because we are going in the only way we know how.
Speaker 1: With buenasas, buenasriesas, and a lot of opinions as we
Speaker 1: relive their greatest achievements on our journey to find out
Speaker 1: what makes them so iconic. Loyal listeners know when it
Speaker 1: comes to its importance in the world of Latin music,
Speaker 1: New York City can just about go toe to toe
Speaker 1: with any city in Latino America, from.
Speaker 3: The King of Reggaeton Darayenki to Laina de la Salsa
Speaker 3: Cela Cruz. Everybody from Nicaribe comes through sooner or later.
Speaker 4: Caribbean Latinos all have a unique.
Speaker 1: Relationship with New York and that New York Caribbean connection
Speaker 1: is over a century old.
Speaker 3: Cubans traced their New York ties back as far back
Speaker 3: as the late eighteen hundreds when Jose Marti organized the
Speaker 3: independence movement while he was in exile.
Speaker 1: And that independence movement came to a head when after
Speaker 1: Cuba was years deep into its War of Independence, the
Speaker 1: US stepped in at the eleventh hour and declared war
Speaker 1: on Spain, an intervention with consequences spanning more than a century.
Speaker 3: Including Puerto Rico status as a United States territory aka
Speaker 3: the stuff many podcasts and many arguments at Puerto Rican
Speaker 3: dinner tables over statehood versus independence.
Speaker 1: And the reason for the huge Puerto Rican community in
Speaker 1: New York City. In nineteen seventeen, Puerto Ricans were granted
Speaker 1: US citizenship, making it far easier for Bordiquas to come stateside.
Speaker 3: And so thousands of Puerto Ricans did just that. Known
Speaker 3: as Los Bionetros or the Pioneers. The first wave of
Speaker 3: Bodiquas turned to New Yorkers, or.
Speaker 1: In my dad's case, Bodigua's turned Texans.
Speaker 3: The Bionetto settled down in Brooklyn, East Harlem, the Lower
Speaker 3: East Side shout out Losaida and the Bronx.
Speaker 1: And it's there in the South Bronx where Willi Colon's
Speaker 1: grandparents settled down in the nineteen tens with that first
Speaker 1: wave of bion Neros, and over the next forty five years,
Speaker 1: that Puerto Rican community grew, an grew, and grew.
Speaker 4: With both new arrivals and New Aurekans.
Speaker 1: Bourriqua was born off the island, and among those New
Speaker 1: Yorrekans was Willi Colonne born April twenty eighth, nineteen fifty.
Speaker 4: Okay, Joseph, what do you got for Willy?
Speaker 2: A Taurus just like me?
Speaker 3: A Taurus' son, hardworking and patient in model, thrives in
Speaker 3: situations where he is in control, just like me, Let's
Speaker 3: say the recording studio. He would do best to embrace
Speaker 3: his sense of authority, but also be careful not to
Speaker 3: let himself become too narrow minded. When he learns a
Speaker 3: lesson in life, he doesn't forget it, and the streets
Speaker 3: are a hard teacher.
Speaker 4: Mi hau Truer words have never been spoken.
Speaker 1: Willi's mom had him at just sixteen years old.
Speaker 2: And Mama was dealt a tough hand.
Speaker 3: She grew up first generation New yor Rican way back
Speaker 3: when New Yorkers called bodegas corner stores.
Speaker 1: It was based sickly the Stone Age. All this environment
Speaker 1: was not kind to foreigners like us. So it's no
Speaker 1: wonder when he's mom lost her Spanish, making matters worse.
Speaker 1: Daddy wasn't in the picture. So of course that meant
Speaker 1: Abuela picked up the slack. Shout out to all the Aboilas,
Speaker 1: picking up the slack for dead bee dads right, shout
Speaker 1: out to the Abolitas. Anyway, Willi Colan's grandmother, Antonia, was
Speaker 1: his guiding light. She taught him Spanish and instilled in
Speaker 1: him that Bourriqua pride.
Speaker 3: Which was important because remember this was corner Story days,
Speaker 3: and then white kids were circling.
Speaker 1: Cologne was shorter and had darker skin than the mostly
Speaker 1: Irish American white kids. He found himself at odds with
Speaker 1: day to day. He went to a school with segregated
Speaker 1: bathrooms and water fountains, there was no hiding who he was. Still,
Speaker 1: the insults only made him double down on his pride.
Speaker 2: No grandchild of Antonio Goa had who he.
Speaker 4: Is, Gracia.
Speaker 1: But there was one more thing weely would get bullied over,
Speaker 1: and this one it stung deep.
Speaker 3: Willie's abuela used to show her grandson a photo of
Speaker 3: his dad dressed as a soldier. She would tell him
Speaker 3: about the reason he wasn't around was that he was
Speaker 3: off fighting, but in reality.
Speaker 1: Willi's father was in and out of prison and was
Speaker 1: often arrested publicly for robbery and other violent offenses. In
Speaker 1: one interview, Wily even seems to imply that he himself
Speaker 1: witnessed his father's arrest.
Speaker 3: Willie's classmates knew about all of this, and they bullied
Speaker 3: him relentlessly for it. But Willie, being a tourus, wasn't
Speaker 3: taking that shit laying down. He was throwing elbows, getting
Speaker 3: in fight after fight.
Speaker 1: Still with his father gone, Willi was the man of
Speaker 1: the house. That meant that he felt responsible for looking
Speaker 1: after his sister out on the streets.
Speaker 3: And he looked after her the only way he knew how,
Speaker 3: by fighting with anyone who looked at her own.
Speaker 1: Remember this was the South Bronx in the nineteen fifties
Speaker 1: and sixties, and while this was far from the Bronx's
Speaker 1: burning days of the seventies, times were tough in the
Speaker 1: Batrio right after World War Two.
Speaker 3: Families like Willi's used to be able to get jobs
Speaker 3: at the factory, but now those factories were closing up.
Speaker 3: Lower paying, lower status service jobs took their place, making
Speaker 3: matters worse.
Speaker 4: Heroin use was on the rise.
Speaker 1: More and more, it felt like you didn't know who
Speaker 1: or what was around the next street corner. That meant
Speaker 1: Willy had to learn to defend himself in his own words.
Speaker 4: Everyone else had brothers or dads to back them up.
Speaker 3: I didn't, So Willie toughened up quick, and soon he
Speaker 3: earned a nickname, El Marlo.
Speaker 1: It's hard not to assume that the nickname has some
Speaker 1: like father like sun vibes.
Speaker 4: But WILLI would come to wear that.
Speaker 1: Nickname like armor and eventually carry it into his career
Speaker 1: as a salsettle.
Speaker 3: So he had the nickname, he had the attitude. There's
Speaker 3: just one thing missing.
Speaker 1: The music, of course, And of all of the gift
Speaker 1: if Abuela Antonia would be still upon Willi, this was
Speaker 1: perhaps the most important.
Speaker 3: At eleven years old, Willie received a trumpet as a
Speaker 3: gift from his grandmother. This was obviously her way of
Speaker 3: keeping Willy off the streets.
Speaker 4: But it wasn't for lack of love of music either.
Speaker 1: Antonia had enrolled Willy in music lessons and would have
Speaker 1: him sing for all of her friends.
Speaker 3: But this wasn't just about proving te tiacuncita that you
Speaker 3: had the most talented grandkid. Antonia really cared about Willy's passions.
Speaker 1: A plus plus for parenting y'all and Antonia's nurturing and
Speaker 1: her sacrifices would sit Willy on a course to change
Speaker 1: Latin music forever. It's nineteen sixty four and Willie Colonne,
Speaker 1: at fourteen years old, has formed his very first band,
Speaker 1: the Latin Jazz All Stars.
Speaker 3: All Stars is some big talk for a bunch of sweaty.
Speaker 1: Teens, especially in New York, which had long since earned
Speaker 1: its reputation as one of the great American jazz cities,
Speaker 1: and in the nineteen sixties Latin jazz in particular was
Speaker 1: taking off.
Speaker 3: The last decade was ruled by legends like Miles Davis,
Speaker 3: Charlie Parker, and Solonius Monk. In the sixties they were
Speaker 3: still royalty no shade, but something else was.
Speaker 1: Bruin rumba, mambo and merengue exploded out of dance halls Throughound,
Speaker 1: Manhattan and the Bronx. Meanwhile, groups like Machito and his
Speaker 1: Afro Cuban Boys experimented with weaving these styles into classic
Speaker 1: jazz arrangements.
Speaker 3: An artist like Tito Puente and Lorena se La Cruz
Speaker 3: brought the og styles up from Las Islas to clubs
Speaker 3: like the Gongan Health Kitchen, Park Plaza in East Harlem
Speaker 3: and most importantly the Palladium in the East Village.
Speaker 1: It was during this golden age of Latin Jazz that
Speaker 1: Williicolon saw his idol, the trombonis Mont Rivera live in concert,
Speaker 1: and then he basically looked at Rivera playing the trombone,
Speaker 1: then looked at his trumpet and looked up with sad
Speaker 1: little kid eyes.
Speaker 3: And so Abuela Antonia La Santa saved about two weeks
Speaker 3: worth of living expenses to buy him a trombone.
Speaker 1: Real talk, if you are lucky enough to have an
Speaker 1: Abuela Antonia in your life, you are set, like set, set,
Speaker 1: set for life.
Speaker 4: So at the height of Mambo Mania, not.
Speaker 3: To be confused with the Latin explosion.
Speaker 1: I Hate you, Willie Colonne was playing wherever he could
Speaker 1: with the Latin Jazz All Stars at night and in
Speaker 1: the daytime he was working at a small record store.
Speaker 2: Now, sometimes you want to keep your moonlighting and your
Speaker 2: day job separate, but this wasn't the case for Willie
Speaker 2: because the owner of the record store owned a small
Speaker 2: record label.
Speaker 1: Willy invited the store manager to one of the Latin
Speaker 1: Jazz All Stars gigs, and the manager said yes, because
Speaker 1: what are you going to do?
Speaker 4: Not go and then have to talk to Willie at
Speaker 4: work every day?
Speaker 3: Seriously bad news. So the store manager dragged his ass
Speaker 3: onto the floor train and over to East Harlem, and
Speaker 3: to his surprise, Willie could rip. He was impressed, very impressed.
Speaker 1: So impressed that he gassed up Willy Colone's band to
Speaker 1: the store owner, convincing him to sign the band to
Speaker 1: his label. So at fourteen, Willy and his band recorded
Speaker 1: an entire LP on the end.
Speaker 3: But if you know anything about Willy Colonne, you already
Speaker 3: know this isn't a big break.
Speaker 4: By the way, if you know anything about our podcast,
Speaker 4: you know that it.
Speaker 1: Takes like eight label signings and thirteen records to hit
Speaker 1: it big. And same thing happened with Willy the label.
Speaker 1: It ended up going bankrupt. The store owner lost everything,
Speaker 1: including the rights to the LP Willy and the band
Speaker 1: had recorded.
Speaker 3: Rule number one, read the contract, Rule number two. The
Speaker 3: repomen don't give no fuck about that contract.
Speaker 1: So Real, however, really struck a deal with the store owner.
Speaker 1: If he could raise enough money to buy the rights back,
Speaker 1: the tapes would be his. So El Malo hustled and
Speaker 1: scraped and got his music back.
Speaker 3: Meanwhile, across town, another independent record label was on the
Speaker 3: up and up, and.
Speaker 4: Now we're getting to the good stuff.
Speaker 1: In nineteen sixty four, an unlikely duo decided to found
Speaker 1: a record label. That duel was Johnny Pacheko, the legendary
Speaker 1: Dominican multi instrumentalist, and his divorce lawyer Jerry Mesucci.
Speaker 3: Wait, really, we did not cover that in the Celia
Speaker 3: episodes because.
Speaker 1: Some details you got to say for later. Otherwise we
Speaker 1: wouldn't have a podcast anyway. Jerry Mesucci, the cop turned
Speaker 1: divorce lawyer turned and presario, had spent some time in
Speaker 1: Cuba and had developed a love of Latin music. So
Speaker 1: when he learned that his client was selling records out
Speaker 1: of the trunk of his car, he decided to help
Speaker 1: a brother out.
Speaker 3: Bacheco, as we mentioned earlier in the season, was sped
Speaker 3: up with getting a measly cut from record sales. Neither
Speaker 3: he nor Masucci could have predicted that their little operation
Speaker 3: would become a springboard for a whole generation of Latin
Speaker 3: musicians and a globally known brand.
Speaker 1: We are, of course, talking about Fanya Records, and Willie
Speaker 1: Colonne was about to get in on the ground floor.
Speaker 1: In nineteen sixty seven, a few years after the label
Speaker 1: got itself a proper office, really showed up to Fanya
Speaker 1: with his Latin Jazz All Stars LP in hand.
Speaker 3: Always make sure you own your work, kids, because that
Speaker 3: record got really signed.
Speaker 4: But Willy still had work to do.
Speaker 1: He had won Masucci over, but when he met Johnny Pacheco,
Speaker 1: the Dominican luminary had one thing to say.
Speaker 2: To him, find a singer.
Speaker 4: Paranto pronto you mean prono.
Speaker 3: Yeah.
Speaker 1: Luckily for Willie, it wouldn't take him long to find
Speaker 1: a singer, a singer who would become one of his
Speaker 1: closest collaborators and.
Speaker 4: Fuel one of his biggest beefs.
Speaker 1: Joseph, let's take a little beat as fellow New Yorkers. Okay, fine,
Speaker 1: one current New Yorker and one former New Yorker. I'm
Speaker 1: probably lucky if you even let me back on the island.
Speaker 3: Well, real talk, have you changed your driver's license to California?
Speaker 4: Negative? A massive negative?
Speaker 3: No?
Speaker 4: Never, I am holding out forever.
Speaker 3: Okay, keep it that way and we'll let you back
Speaker 3: in every time. Anyway, we're taking a beat.
Speaker 1: Yes, As you can tell from this episode, New York's
Speaker 1: music scene as it once was is legendary for a reason.
Speaker 1: Dance halls, discos, scrappy little DIY venues.
Speaker 3: Are we about to get sentimental up in this bitch?
Speaker 3: You know it?
Speaker 1: I have to ask you, because I know you used
Speaker 1: to spend your nights at your club. Is there any
Speaker 1: club that no longer exists in New York that used
Speaker 1: to like your stomping.
Speaker 2: In this club?
Speaker 3: Yes, it no longer exists. It was called Splash and
Speaker 3: it was also the very very first gay bar I
Speaker 3: ever been to in New York.
Speaker 2: And when you.
Speaker 1: Moved from Texas and I moved around the Paso, Texas
Speaker 1: and oh my god, made it so special.
Speaker 3: You know? It was like, well, I would there used
Speaker 3: to be a show on HBO called Queer's Folk, and
Speaker 3: it was it looks like the gay guys would go
Speaker 3: into the huge warehouses with go go boys and just
Speaker 3: everyone was beautiful and people were like blah blah blah,
Speaker 3: and it just like, I don't know, it was exactly
Speaker 3: that what I walked into. So it was just such
Speaker 3: a core memory of like going into a huge, massive club,
Speaker 3: although now looking back at it wasn't that big, but
Speaker 3: it just felt like it because I had never been
Speaker 3: into anything like that. What about your first club or venue,
Speaker 3: because I know you like music.
Speaker 1: Actually, okay, so the clubs that I remember were like
Speaker 1: I mean, it was like late nineties, early two thousand's heyday.
Speaker 1: So I god, I'm so embarrassed. Like the Tunnel, I'm
Speaker 1: like dating myself right now. I don't know if people
Speaker 1: know what that is, but like that was a club
Speaker 1: that I went to when I was sixteen years old,
Speaker 1: living in New York going to Columbia University for the summer.
Speaker 1: I had no business being at the Tunnel when I
Speaker 1: was sixteen years old. And then I'm trying to think,
Speaker 1: like there was another one that was kind of like that,
Speaker 1: and I'm like blanking on the name right now, but
Speaker 1: I feel like I loved all of Like I loved
Speaker 1: all of those places. And then from when I finally
Speaker 1: moved to New York post college, Bungalow eight that like
Speaker 1: defined an entire Like I mean, I used to not
Speaker 1: get into Bungalow.
Speaker 4: Let's be very.
Speaker 2: Clear, like club or was it like a music venue?
Speaker 4: No, bungalowight was a club.
Speaker 1: It was like it was like the heyday of like
Speaker 1: models and bottles, right, And I am not a model,
Speaker 1: nor can I affid a four, nor can I afford
Speaker 1: to buy a bottle, which is why I was never
Speaker 1: getting into Bungalow eight. But I finally got in. I
Speaker 1: cracked the code, and yeah, I had too much fun
Speaker 1: at those places. And then in terms of like music venues,
Speaker 1: trying to think of like classic, what was that there
Speaker 1: was a place that closed.
Speaker 3: Because I was going to say, you know, it just
Speaker 3: hit me like I remember that was my first club.
Speaker 3: But then I at my actual first club that I
Speaker 3: ever went to was called Don Quinine, and it was
Speaker 3: a quads and it was a club until maybe like midnight,
Speaker 3: and then at twelve o'clock a live band would come
Speaker 3: on and play stuff like and Manna and but they
Speaker 3: were like a cover band and they would come from
Speaker 3: Argentina and it would turn into them when you could
Speaker 3: still dance live music because they would play it like
Speaker 3: the song it was just live that's sod. Just I
Speaker 3: just remembered that.
Speaker 4: Right now, I'm trying to think of like a Latin
Speaker 4: there was. It wasn't a Latin club, but there was
Speaker 4: this place. It was downtown. I think it closed, it
Speaker 4: like became other things.
Speaker 1: It was sob sounds of Brazil, and I remember going
Speaker 1: there like with my friends and like having way too
Speaker 1: much fun. But listen, old nineties and two thousands clubs
Speaker 1: in New York were just a vibe man like, I
Speaker 1: feel sorry for kids today.
Speaker 2: Well, I mean, it'll never be like it was now.
Speaker 1: It's everything true, true, true, And you know, it's easy
Speaker 1: to romanticize the good old days of New York live
Speaker 1: music venues and clubs. But for as long as there's
Speaker 1: been music, musicians in cities like New York have had
Speaker 1: to work their way up to big venues like the
Speaker 1: Palladium in the city.
Speaker 2: Right, don't get it twisted.
Speaker 3: Musicians on the come up in New York will still
Speaker 3: play at European Insanet.
Speaker 1: Or, in Willie Colon's case, the American Legion Club on
Speaker 1: one hundred and sixty second and Prospect in the Bronx.
Speaker 3: Wait, so they played salsa for World War two veterans.
Speaker 1: Hey, Latinos did serve in both World wars. Okay, the
Speaker 1: more you know, so, yes, these teenagers are playing for
Speaker 1: war vets and God bless the troops. But in terms
Speaker 1: of crowd size the Palladium this was not Willie and
Speaker 1: his band had a shiny new label contract, but he
Speaker 1: still needed fans. He just needed someone to listen to
Speaker 1: his music.
Speaker 3: So to get that, he needed hits, and to get hits,
Speaker 3: he needed a singer, and.
Speaker 1: He would find one right upstairs at the Bonset Social Club,
Speaker 1: where another Latin jazz orchestra happened to be playing.
Speaker 2: I'm picturing one of those buildings in k Town where
Speaker 2: there's like twelve floors, the karaoke bars and like a nightclub.
Speaker 4: I love those places.
Speaker 1: And a salsa band is crowded enough with just the
Speaker 1: percussion section, right, But if any place is going to
Speaker 1: make room for the band, it's the Boncees Social Club,
Speaker 1: one of many social clubs for Latinos that existed for
Speaker 1: decades throughout the city.
Speaker 3: These were gathering places for expats to safely be themselves,
Speaker 3: speak Spanish freely, and discussed politics so locally and over in.
Speaker 1: La Patria, and to dance, of course, and at Bonce
Speaker 1: they moved to the sounds of a Latin jazz orchestra
Speaker 1: named very creatively the New Yorkers.
Speaker 3: They didn't have a catchy name, but they did have
Speaker 3: a singer, a gauky looking singer with a big voice.
Speaker 1: A voice that would one day become his namesake, because we're,
Speaker 1: of course talking about Hector Juan Perez Martinez, or better
Speaker 1: known as Hector Leveaux.
Speaker 3: When Willy visited the Poons Club for the first time,
Speaker 3: Hector's voice stopped him in his tracks. The next day
Speaker 3: he told Johnny Pocheko, you got to hear this guy.
Speaker 3: He brought Johnny to the club and right then and
Speaker 3: there they asked Hector to record with the Latin Jazz
Speaker 3: All Stars, and Hector said.
Speaker 2: No thanks, leaving Willie confused.
Speaker 3: But nevertheless, this tourus persisted and eventually won Hector over.
Speaker 3: So you might ask why the sass well in Hector's eyes,
Speaker 3: asking to record wasn't the same as asking to join
Speaker 3: the band.
Speaker 1: He found it shady, which spoiler alert did not bode
Speaker 1: well for the future. But for now, Hector was in
Speaker 1: and thus a legendary duo was formed, one that would
Speaker 1: become known as the Bad Boys. Hmmm, Joseph, what's wrong?
Speaker 1: Is something glitching in your matrix?
Speaker 2: No, I'm just having some major dejeba right now.
Speaker 3: Two young, hunry Puerto Rican boys with big egos continue
Speaker 3: coming up in an underground music scene, giving voice to
Speaker 3: the struggle all around them. It's giving that Nikki jam
Speaker 3: uh Oh.
Speaker 1: Like Los Congris Wood, decades later, Willis Colonne and Hector
Speaker 1: Levau redefined a whole strain of Latin music with a
Speaker 1: series of earthshaking records, only to come apart at the
Speaker 1: hands of drug abuse and interpersonal drama.
Speaker 3: But that's next week. Kidos on the.
Speaker 4: Next Becoming an Icon, The Rise and Fall of the Bad.
Speaker 2: Boys, Bad Boys, Bad Boys.
Speaker 4: What You're Gonna Do, What You're Gonna Do.
Speaker 1: Becoming an Icon is presented by Sonoo and Iheart's Michael
Speaker 1: Duda podcast Network. Listen to Becoming an Icon on the
Speaker 1: iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcast, or wherever you get your podcast