On January 5, Bad Bunny launched his sixth album, Debí tirar más fotos (I should have taken more photos). The album has 17 songs, blending reggaetón and trap with other Puerto Rican musical genres, such as salsa, trova, and plena. Salsa is a more widely known genre, with origins in New York City, emerging from the large Caribbean and Latin American diaspora. I’m a Puerto Rican in the diaspora of New York City; I came here because my home country lacked job prospects. Listening to Bad Bunny’s album brought a mix of nostalgia and anger, but also hope. The songs are full of cultural references, urban legends, and historical facts highlighting the consequences of Puerto Rico’s colonial history. Before this album, it was unimaginable to me that our traditional music would break records worldwide, with the album ranking no. 1 on the Billboard 200 and the song “DtMF” ranking first on the TikTok Billboard 50.
“DtMF” is an acronym for Debí tirar más fotos. The song encourages listeners to appreciate the important things in life and to make memories with those close to them, especially among those who lose family members due to migration, mainly to the U.S. This song, however, taps into universal themes; most of the world can relate to the loss of family, culture, and land, given the destabilizing impact that capitalism has on the Global South. This song fuses reggaetón with plena, a traditional Puerto Rican genre with working-class and Afro–Puerto Rican origins that emerged in the early 20th century. It functioned as the “sung newspaper” of the masses, transmitting information about current events.
The album has sparked conversations about many of the issues that the island of Puerto Rico faces as a “territory,” or colony of the U.S. Issues such as gentrification, the misuse of natural resources to serve national and foreign capital, the erasure of our culture, and the forced migration of Puerto Ricans due to a deep economic crisis, the debacle of essential services and lack of job opportunities. Today, there are more Puerto Ricans in the diaspora than on the island.
In the song “Lo que le pasó a Hawaii” (What happened to Hawaii), Bad Bunny highlights the pain of having to emigrate and not knowing if and when Puerto Ricans in the diaspora will be able to come back. Hawaii, despite being a U.S. state, has a very high rate of displacement and homelessness of native Hawaiians. Hawaii’s natural resources are channeled into resorts and hotels instead of local farms or other areas that would benefit the locals. All that “development” has made the cost of living skyrocket, making it hard for locals to afford living in their own land.
People who followed the 2019 struggle against the administration of Ricardo Rosselló, then governor of Puerto Rico, probably remember that, in his leaked chat messages, his publicist Edwin Miranda wrote, “I saw the future and it was marvelous; a Puerto Rico without Puerto Ricans.” Against this idea, Bad Bunny gives a battle cry, fighting the forces responsible for what happened in Hawaii working toward the same goal in his homeland.
When Bad Bunny says: “No sueltes la bandera ni olvides el lelolai (Stick to your flag and do not forget the le lo lai), encouraging Puerto Ricans to not abandon our flag or forget our customs. The “le lo lai” refers to a “scat” used in between the stanzas (called décimas) in the Puerto Rican trova music. Trova was popular among the small farmers, who composed the majority of the Puerto Rican population until the mid-20th century. This is a call to defend Puerto Rico’s land, which is now being sold en masse to foreign investors, who are benefiting from the tax breaks that Acts 22 and 60 offer, while locals can barely make their ends meet, let alone buy a house.
Additionally, the album has sparked a new sense of national pride. The video version of the album contains slides with parts of the colonial and revolutionary history of the island that is in general not taught in school. Bad Bunny collaborated with Puerto Rican historian Jorell Meléndez-Badillo, who authored all the slides. Bad Bunny uses some of these references in various songs. In the song “La mudanza” he denounces how Puerto Ricans were killed for carrying the flag when it was a crime to possess or display it under the Gag Law of 1948. This was a way to suppress a rekindled independence movement on the island. In New York City and other major cities across the U.S., Puerto Ricans in the diaspora display the flag in their apartment windows and cars as a way to state that we will not go back to those times.
In the same song, he asks for his music to be played the day that the “remains of Hostos are brought back.” Eugenio María de Hostos, born in my hometown of Mayagüez, was a Puerto Rican educator, philosopher, lawyer, sociologist, novelist, and Puerto Rican independence advocate. He is buried in the Dominican Republic because he wished for his remains to return to Puerto Rico only when it becomes a free republic. In the song, Bad Bunny also reflects on his own death, and how he hopes he is not forgotten. He wishes for his coffin to have the light-blue Puerto Rican flag, which was the original design adopted in 1895 by exiled members of the Revolutionary Committee of Puerto Rico in New York. The current flag uses the same blue as the one in the U.S. flag, but this is not the original design, as the triangle should be painted in sky blue. Its colors were changed after its current status as a U.S. commonwealth was established.
The album also debuted with a short film, starring Jacobo Morales, who is a Puerto Rican actor, poet, writer, playwright, filmmaker, and author. The costar is the sapo concho (crested toad), which is native to Puerto Rico and has been declared endangered due to the imperialist and capitalist exploitation of the island’s natural resources. In this short film, Jacobo laments how much of the culture has been lost and how “Americanized” Puerto Rico has become. This is evident when his local bakery switches to an American owner and the menu changes drastically, to the point that the cashier does not fully understand what he wants. He just wanted a sandwich with queso de papa, which the cashier mistakenly takes to be something related to “father.” Anyone familiar with Puerto Rican food culture, not to mention a Puerto Rican, would know Morales wanted a local type of cheddar cheese. From the kitchen, the cook, who is Puerto Rican, lets the cashier and Morales know that he understands and that he will prepare the order. At the end of that interaction, the cashier announces that they accept only electronic payments, which is not accessible for most people Jacobo’s age in Puerto Rico. A younger Puerto Rican man offers to pay, reassuring Jacobo by saying that “we are still here.” Jacobo says thank you and answers Jacobo with an emphatic “thank you” back. Jacobo Morales is considered the most influential film director in Puerto Rican history. His movie Lo que le pasó a Santiago brought the first and only Oscar nomination to the island. It is a very touching moment to me when this happens, because it represents a way of thanking Jacobo Morales for his legacy.
Listening to this album made me feel closer to the Caribbean even in this long stretch of New York’s cold winter. It has been incredible to listen and dance to it with friends and comrades from different backgrounds who have shown their appreciation for it. The nostalgia that I felt while listening to the album I take as inspiration for a future free from imperialist oppression and exploitation, not only in Puerto Rico but in the Caribbean, Latin America, and even in the U.S. In the past weeks, we have seen Trump’s regime launch an offensive against immigrants. I see the album as an invitation to resist and fight colonialism as well as to fight for immigrants and all the oppressed.
Let this album be a celebration of our beautiful and rich culture. Puerto Ricans all over the world should never forget our combative history — from the Taínos (Puerto Rico’s indigenous people) defying the Spanish colonizers to the movement that toppled Governor Rosselló in 2019. The liberation of Puerto Rico from imperialism and capitalism is up to us, along with our national and international working-class siblings.