Kaina Castillo - It Was A Home (LP) - Violet Translucent Vinyl

Kaina Castillo’s second album as KAINA, It Was A Home, arrived in March 2022 on City Slang, and it feels like a sunlit room you want to linger in. The Chicago singer, born to Venezuelan and Guatemalan parents, has always braided soul and Latin pop with unforced grace, but here she leans into warmth and clarity. The pacing is unhurried, the melodies are comforting, and the writing circles back to family, memory, and the rooms we carry with us. It is a record about belonging, built with caring hands.

What grabs you first is the voice. Kaina sings with a soft center and a steady confidence, the kind of phrasing that can make a small phrase feel like a hug. She floats over clean guitar lines, pillowy keys, and bass that curls rather than thumps. There is percussion that nods to cumbia and bolero, not as a costume but as part of her musical DNA. The acoustic textures are generous, and when a synth pad or string swell arrives, it lands like a beam of light through a curtain. Chicago’s scene has a knack for fluid cross-pollination, and you can hear that community-minded polish in the production choices, which keep the mix breathable and human.

“Casita” is the undeniable doorway into the album. It moves with a gentle sway and slips between English and Spanish, and the hook lingers long after the needle lifts. It is a love letter to small spaces and the people who make them feel safe. Kaina has talked about home as a feeling rather than an address, and the arrangement puts that idea into practice. Nothing is rushed. Harmonies are stacked like blankets on a couch. You can practically hear a kettle click on in the next room.

The rest of the record follows that ethos. Songs build from careful little details, a picked guitar figure that tugs at a memory, a bassline that dances just enough to guide your step. Drums sit low and warm in the pocket. A Rhodes chord will sneak in to sweeten a line. Kaina’s lyrics favor intimacy over grand statements, which suits her. There are no big dramatic turns for their own sake, only moments where a line lands with quiet precision and the band gives it space to bloom. When the tempo lifts, it does so with a smile rather than a shout.

You can hear a writer who has sharpened her sense of shape since Next To The Sun in 2019. The arcs feel cleaner, and the hooks sneak up on you. She still sketches scenes with tastefully spare language, but the framing is more assured. Even the sequencing carries a calm logic. Ballads and mid-tempo grooves trade places, and the record keeps a steady pulse that makes it easy to spin front to back. It is easy to imagine these songs on a Sunday morning stereo, coffee cooling on the table, city sounds drifting in through the window.

On vinyl, the low end really glows. The bass has that round, lived-in feel, and the layered vocals sit just forward of the instruments, which adds to the closeness. If you are hunting for Kaina vinyl, this one rewards a proper listen. It Was A Home vinyl copies have been popping up in the usual indie bins, and it pairs nicely with her earlier work if you are building out Kaina albums on vinyl. If your local shop is out, it is easy enough to buy Kaina records online, and plenty of stores ship internationally, which helps if you are browsing from a Melbourne record store or digging through sites that specialize in vinyl records Australia collectors love.

Part of the joy here is how real it feels. Kaina is not trying to be a torch singer or an avant-pop disrupter. She is chasing clarity, kindness, and a groove that fits a human voice. That choice gives the album staying power. The choruses arrive like good advice from a friend. The instruments breathe. You feel invited to sit down and listen. Home is a complicated word for a lot of us, and this record doesn’t pretend otherwise. It settles into the complexity with gentleness and care, and finds the bright spots worth holding onto. That is why I keep coming back to it, and why it deserves a permanent spot on the shelf.