Leire Martínez tears up at first La Oreja de Van Gogh concert without her

Leire Martínez experienced emotional distress following her departure from the band after 16 years as lead vocalist.
Saying goodbye was simply hard
Leire Martínez explained her emotional response to performing without the band after sixteen years as its lead vocalist.

Sixteen years is long enough to build a life inside a song. When La Oreja de Van Gogh announced the return of founding vocalist Amaia Montero, it was framed as a homecoming — but homecomings always displace someone. Leire Martínez, who had carried the band's voice through nearly two decades, wept at their first concert without her, a moment that reminded the world that behind every reunion is a departure, and behind every departure, a person.

  • Leire Martínez broke down in tears at the band's first concert after her exit — a raw, public grief that no announcement could soften.
  • Amaia Montero's return, celebrated by longtime fans as a restoration of the band's original soul, has instead ignited a storm of criticism about her vocal readiness.
  • Vocal coach Israel Del Amo delivered a scathing public rebuke of Montero's comeback, calling it shameless — words that have reportedly shaken her confidence and left the reunion's future in doubt.
  • Bandmember Xabi San Martín pushed back, insisting Montero had trained rigorously — breathing techniques, anxiety coaching, intensive preparation — framing her return as earned, not opportunistic.
  • What was announced as a triumphant homecoming has become a tangle of competing legacies, wounded feelings, and unresolved questions about who this band now belongs to.

La Oreja de Van Gogh took the stage without Leire Martínez for the first time in sixteen years, and the weight of that absence was written plainly on her face. Martínez, who had fronted the Spanish rock band since the early 2000s, wept openly during the concert — a moment that made visible what the announcement of Amaia Montero's return had only implied: someone had to step aside.

Montero, the band's original vocalist, had left in 2007 and spent nearly two decades away. Her return was framed as a homecoming, a reunion with the voice fans had grown up with. For Martínez, it meant the end of a professional life built entirely around this band. Her own words — that saying goodbye was simply hard, that it wasn't about ego — suggested a woman trying to hold herself together at the close of a chapter she hadn't chosen to end.

Montero's reception has been far from triumphant. Critics questioned her vocal preparation, and vocal coach Israel Del Amo offered a particularly harsh public dismissal of her comeback. Bandmember Xabi San Martín defended her, describing months of intensive training and work with coaches on breathing and anxiety — evidence, he argued, of genuine commitment rather than a casual grasp at former glory. Still, the criticism has reportedly unsettled Montero, who is said to be reconsidering aspects of her return.

The reunion that was meant to restore something has instead surfaced old tensions and created new ones. How the band will honor both women's contributions — and whether this homecoming can survive the weight of its own complications — remains an open question.

The Spanish rock band La Oreja de Van Gogh took the stage for a concert without Leire Martínez for the first time in sixteen years, and the absence was felt most acutely by the woman who had carried the band's voice through nearly two decades of performances. Martínez, who had fronted the group since the early 2000s, wept openly during the show—a raw moment that underscored the finality of a departure that had seemed unthinkable just weeks before.

The band's reunion with original vocalist Amaia Montero, who left in 2007, had been announced with considerable fanfare. Montero had been the voice on La Oreja de Van Gogh's most iconic recordings, the one fans grew up with, and her return was framed as a homecoming. But for Martínez, it meant stepping aside after investing her entire adult professional life in the band's sound and identity. The emotional weight of that transition became visible the moment the band performed without her.

Montero herself has faced a complicated reception since the announcement. She has been described as devastated by criticism surrounding her comeback, with observers questioning her vocal readiness and preparation for the return. Xabi San Martín, a member of the band, offered a defense of Montero's commitment, noting that she had undertaken intensive vocal training and worked with coaches on breathing techniques and anxiety management to prepare for the reunion. The implication was clear: this was not a casual return, but a deliberate effort to reclaim a role she had once held.

Not everyone in the music industry has been supportive. Israel Del Amo, a vocal coach, offered a particularly harsh assessment of Montero's comeback, expressing disbelief at what he saw as a shameless attempt to return to prominence. Such criticism has weighed on Montero, who is reportedly reconsidering aspects of her decision to rejoin the band. The reunion, which should have been a triumphant moment, has instead become a source of tension and self-doubt.

Martínez's tears at the concert spoke to something deeper than professional disappointment. She had sung these songs hundreds of times, made them her own, built a career and an identity around them. The phrase she offered—that this was not about ego, that saying goodbye was simply hard—suggested a woman grappling with the end of a chapter she had not expected to close. The band's future remains uncertain, as does the question of how both vocalists' contributions will be remembered and valued as the reunion unfolds.

Amaia has worked extensively with vocal training and techniques to manage her nerves for this return
— Xabi San Martín, band member
Montero is reportedly devastated by criticism surrounding her comeback and is reconsidering her decision
— Multiple sources
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Inventor

Why does it matter that Leire Martínez cried at this particular concert? Isn't a band reunion just a business decision?

Model

Because she didn't just sing these songs—she lived them for sixteen years. That's not a job you clock out of cleanly. The tears were real because the goodbye was real.

Inventor

But Amaia Montero was the original voice. Doesn't she have a claim to the band's identity?

Model

She does, absolutely. But that doesn't erase what Martínez built. Both things are true at once, and that's what makes this painful.

Inventor

The vocal coach's criticism sounds harsh. Why would someone be so dismissive of Montero's return?

Model

Maybe he saw it as unearned, or rushed. Or maybe he was protecting Martínez. Either way, it suggests the reunion isn't universally seen as the right move.

Inventor

Is Montero having second thoughts?

Model

Reportedly, yes. The criticism has gotten to her. She prepared intensively, did the work, and still faced skepticism. That would shake anyone's confidence.

Inventor

What happens to Martínez now?

Model

That's the question no one seems to have answered yet. She's out, but the band's identity is still being negotiated between two women who both have legitimate claims to it.

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