Kiliki is the project of Beñat Rodrigo, a Navarrese musician and producer from Arrotxapea who was part of Chill Mafia, one of the collectives that stirred up the Basque urban scene in recent years. After the group dissolved—an ending that came with a record and a tour—he has developed an intriguing solo career that blends electronic, dub, reggae, punk, and Basque folklore, among other influences, all with his own distinctive sense of humor. His debut, “ILTZE 1,” was co-produced by Sunny Wright 4th and featured collaborations with Nueve Desconocidos and Xabi Esparza.
Today Kiliki takes part in the Meister of the Week section, curated by Jägermeister, to talk about one of his off‑musical passions: TikTok. Although, as you’ll see, it’s much more about watching what people do on the app than about him himself starting trends.
Why did you choose TikTok trends as the topic to discuss in this section? What draws you to them?
I wanted to pick internet culture and TikTok because my brain is completely fried, and I like it.
What has been your favorite trend of the past year?
Anything made by boomers with an AI‑generated song. It’s as if the boomers left Facebook and, upon discovering TikTok, something between endearing and creepy happened.
Has there been any trend you’ve tried to pull off and failed at? Which one?
I don’t follow trends, they don’t interest me. In fact, I think the charm of TikTok today lies in how content is created far beyond the dance routines crafted by influencers, which I hope are in decline. It’s like an app designed for doing your little dances, but people use it to be ultra‑creative or to echo what would have been geeks on Crónicas Marcianas. In short: no matter how hard they try to kill the internet, it will always stay alive.
Has there been a trend that made you change your mind about a song? Which one?
More the opposite. My moody fifteen‑year‑old self, who wanted to be different or not wading in the pool, has told me many times that discovering a song on TikTok is stupid and automatically I’ve thought the song was crap. Then I’ve had to be at a party and the DJ played it, and I’ve to admit: “Whoa, actually it’s a bloody great track.”
And any song you’ve ended up hating because of a trend?
Many of them. Sometimes I’ve even discovered an artist because they’re promoting their next single and it’s so, so tedious that, by the time the song comes out, I don’t want to hear or talk about it. I feel that, as an artist, it’s a double‑edged sword—it’s great that people know your hook before the track drops, but you risk being so tedious that people skip you altogether or that, out of a whole song, everyone knows only those 15 seconds.
Which song from your repertoire would you like to have its own trend?
Any. Or, I also feel that it isn’t entirely up to me, and the nice thing is that people make a song go viral for something you didn’t expect. Like I said earlier, it’s cool when the internet decides that something rocks. When marketing agencies manipulate the algorithm so your song catches on, not so much.
“It’s cool when the internet decides that something rocks. When marketing agencies manipulate the algorithm to make your song catch on, it’s a lot less cool.”
And which song in your repertoire would you never want to have a trend around, under any circumstances?
None. As I’ve said, it’s not something I claim ownership over. I’d find it incredibly arrogant to decide what people should do with my songs.
If you could invent a trend for one of your songs, what would people have to do?
Stick a finger up their butt and whistle.
Which trend would you have loved to invent yourself?
So many. I wish people were as creative as they are.
If tomorrow you could only keep one TikTok trend forever, which one would you save?
The one that clips crypto‑bros discussing renting houses and then cuts to eurodance music with images of Mao Zedong and numbers showing how many landlords they murdered—something like that. I don’t know, maybe it’s just me. My algorithm has been acting strangely lately.
