Costa Rica-born Chavela Vargas lived, sang and died with Mexico in her heart. In the ‘60s, she reinvented the country's testosterone-filled ranchera tradition, stomping on charro stereotypes and stripping the music of its bravado and horns until all that was left was her and a guitar. It's in that raw state that her voice—rough, tender and aged from years of puffing on cigars and sipping on mezcal—is meant to be heard (and felt). Embracing androgyny in her style, she openly sang about the women she loved, becoming a muse to everyone from Frida Kahlo to Pedro Almodóvar along the way.