Pako's Back in his Glo
Eduardo Luis AKA Pako
Eduardo Luis AKA Pako was born in Washington, D.C., but was raised by the entire DMV area. He’s spent the last decade turning bus rides, basement sessions, and late-night linkups into a catalog that strikes a balance of catharsis and celebration. What began on a high-school laptop microphone, finessing GarageBand with wired earbuds, has matured into a deliberate yet polished voice built for big rooms and bigger moments.
Pako’s compass directs energy over ego and honesty over hype. He’ll tell you music got him through heartbreak, heavy seasons, family setbacks, and long shifts working as an electrician. The music he makes is not only to push him forward but to push the listener forward, not spiral them back. “Everybody goes through it,” he says. “The problems are temporary. Enjoy the moment.”
That thesis explodes on his brand-new single “back in my glo,” which dropped Sunday, September 14. It’s a re-entrance anthem and a mission statement: the beat moves like a city night, the hook hits like a chin-up. Pako even edited the video for the new single himself on the bus home from New York City after it was shot by his homie Dying in Pink. Momentum waits for no one, and Pako gets on at the perfect time. If he had a wrestler’s walkout, this would be it.
Ten years in, the circle’s wider and the rooms are louder. He still fanboys when legends walk in—CardoGotWings and Sparkheem dapping him on Prince Street will do that—but the awe never eclipses the work. Being around artists and creators like Dieglo and the Highlife Studios family taught him the unglamorous truth of showing up, shaking hands, staying out late, and repeating. That discipline is why he’s expanding past SoundCloud and planting every new release on all major streaming platforms, so when someone says “play that,” it’s one tap away.
The next chapter is the most personal yet, though. A self-titled, fully Spanish album. Sequenced like a night out and a life lived, it runs from turn-up to turbulence to triumph. Songs to walk faster to, then think deeper to, then celebrate to. It’s Pako’s DMV story told in another tongue, proof that identity can be both rooted and restless.
Community built him. The DMV raised him. The work refined him. With “back in my glo” ringing and a Spanish debut on deck, Pako isn’t chasing a moment; he’s building one. And if you catch him outside, he’ll likely be doing what he always has: helping the next person get their shot, then heading home to cut another record. After all, he’s back in his glo for good.