The 50 Best Songs of 2018

1

Bad Bunny - "Estamos Bien"

When Bad Bunny stepped onto the stage of The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon to perform “Estamos Bien” and mark the one-year anniversary of Hurricane María, he arrived ready to launch yet another one of his subtle rebellions.

In his English-language TV debut, Benito Antonio brought with him the convictions of an entire island that felt (and still feels) abandoned and neglected by both local and federal governments in the aftermath of María – and he denounced Donald Trump and his administration’s incompetence in counting the casualties of the natural disaster.

In the months after its release, “Estamos Bien” became a sort of mantra of resilience, and in some ways, a rejoinder to the traditional Boricua saying “En la brega.” For some, it’s a phrase that addresses the struggle of daily life, but can also be interpreted as a reference to the constant battle against oppression in Puerto Rican society. “Estamos Bien” proved that even someone as wealthy and successful as El Conejo Malo couldn’t completely escape the devastation of Hurricane María and 120 years of colonialism; in “Estamos Bien,” Benito highlights the year-long blackout both he and the rest of Puerto Rico experienced after María (“Aunque pa’ casa no ha llega’o la luz”).

The self-directed, VHS-quality video for “Estamos Bien” captures the Bad Bunny zeitgeist in all its glory: Benito paints his nails before hitting the beach with his corillo in one of his signature wacky outfits. Donning aguacate-print shorts and a denim Supreme x Louis Vuitton jacket, he narrates the hustle of his early days and ascent to the mainstream in his familiar baritone alongside dancing Conejo Malo pizza GIFs. With its summery, feel-good hook and angelic choral intro, “Estamos Bien” showed that the Vega Baja native is ready to use his platform to elevate his people and give them a reason to move forward. –Frances Solá-Santiago

2

Rosalía - "Pienso en Tu Mirá"

Rosalía’s “Pienso Tu Mirá” came to the world like a live grenade wrapped neatly in a bright bubblegum wrapper. At its surface, the infectiously bouncy song was another way in which the Catalan singer ably combined flamenco traditions and contemporary pop — in this case, she married a hand-clapping beat with woozy R&B influences. But a deeper inspection of the track exposes new layers that reflect Rosalía’s provocative brand of folkloric synthesis. There are the disturbingly chipper chants from the Spanish women’s choir Milagros, eerie lyrics about a man’s descent into jealousy, and Rosalía’s own vocal dynamisms, which smoothly convey male insecurity (“Me da miedo cuando sales”) and a tormented woman’s rage (“Pienso en tu mirá’, tu mirá clavá’ es una bala en el pecho”). All of these elements make Rosalía’s message of possessiveness and toxic love much darker and deeper than expected, showing she’s firing on all cylinders and willing to stretch the boundaries and expectations around her music in every way. – Julyssa Lopez

3

Empress Of - "When I'm With Him"

Falling out of love is a fundamentally lonely and bewildering experience, one that Empress Of’s Lorely Rodriguez captures beautifully on “When I’m With Him,” the first single from her sophomore LP Us on Terrible Records. Alternating between English and Spanish with a seamless effortlessness immediately recognizable to diaspora kids, Rodriguez paints a devastating picture of baffling limbo in a romantic relationship.

In her previous work, Rodriguez’s process was insular, doing everything herself – writing, producing, mixing – start to finish. But for Us, she brought in collaborators and co-producers for the first time, a vulnerable and new songwriting experience. It paid off: co-produced along with Jim-E Stack and Dan Nigro, the song’s warm, cushy synths and melancholy piano chords paired with a driving, steady beat and the vocals’ radiant melodies make for synth-pop gold.

The visual is a love letter to Rodriguez’s native LA: sunlight, Dickies, backyard hangouts by the clothesline, arid climate plant life, and the queer people of color who drive some of the cities’ most vibrant art scenes. Its muted pastels and sunny captures set the mood: neither sad nor happy, disorienting but not directionless.

The whole process was a leap of faith – collaborating with others, making her city part of her creative process, tackling a difficult to portray subject. Rodriguez landed on a masterpiece. – Verónica Bayetti Flores

4

Nio García, Darell, and Casper Mágico - "Te Boté" Remix (ft. Ozuna, Bad Bunny, and Nicky Jam)

Is there anything better than a defiantly euphoric breakup song? Opening innocently enough with a couple of minor key piano chords, as soon as the beat drops, the “Te Boté” remix hits deep in the body. The relatively sparse production from Young Martino is wildly effective, the minor chords alluding to the pain of a breakup ultimately taken over by the triumphant freedom of the song’s dembow riddim. Originally released by up and comers Nio García, Darell, and Casper Mágico on label Flow La Movie in late 2017, “Te Boté” exploded once heavyweights Ozuna, Bad Bunny, and Nicky Jam hopped on in the spring. By summer it was ubiquitous, booming out of cars, blaring at the club, being covered in bolero form, and appearing at every kind of personal freedom celebration you can imagine.

Its applicability to multiple situations, in fact, is a key component of where the song succeeds: yes, it’s great for breakups, but also for quitting that soul-sucking job, for getting that repeat sexual harasser fired, for voting out a wack elected official in the midterms.

Ultimately, the “Te Boté” remix gives us the chance to experience the joy of autonomy, and if that autonomy is far in the distance – as it is for many Latinx people in the United States right now – at least it gives us the opportunity to imagine what some respite from the thing that’s been weighing us down might feel like. And it feels so, so good. –Veronica Bayetti Flores

5

Cardi B - "I Like It" (ft. Bad Bunny & J Balvin)

In some circles, the Cardi B, Bad Bunny, and J Balvin smash “I Like It” was as contentious as it was catchy. Undoubtedly, it was a booming, boisterous reinvention of Pete Rodriguez’s bacchanalian classic “I Like It Like That” that put dexterous verses from three of the world’s biggest Latinx rappers at the forefront, extending the staying power of Spanish-language hits on the pop culture main stage following last year’s “Despacito” phenomenon. But with its lyrics about “hot tamales” and a boogaloo sample last known from a Burger King commercial, the track was also perceived as an easy deployment of the cultural signifiers and stereotypes that often push Latinx music into uncomfortable novelty territory. Despite these concerns, “I Like It” blasted its way up to the no. 1 spot on the Billboard Hot 100 and positioned itself as 2018’s song of the summer, and that ever-infectious chorus still seems to be echoing out of every car radio on the planet. –Julyssa Lopez

6

Mala Rodríguez - "Gitanas"

On “Gitanas,” Mala Rodríguez pays tribute to the community of women she saw surviving despite the discrimination, racism, and injustices wrought by an unjust societal paradigm – an inaugural model of feminism for the veteran rapper. Taking to the streets of her hometown barrio in the track’s video, a red-dressed Rodríguez fronts flamenco dancers, all in black, shaping a fierce visual reminder of how individual power is critical not only for the self, but also in our obligation to give mutual support and act in solidarity.

Her first original solo track in five years, “Gitanas” showcased the pioneering rapper’s full-circle feminist ideology. Its alarm-like backdrop heightens the admiration for women who inspired her early on. Rodríguez simultaneously raises awareness of their tenacity in an ongoing struggle, and also continues a tradition of living one’s ethos by example. In a landmark year for women’s empowerment, La Mala’s declaration of defiant personal fortitude – “¿Quién me protege? ¡Yo, de frente!” – is also a shiver-inducing reminder for those who are marginalized that cultivating inner strength is a necessary means of sustenance in a world that is systematically designed to fail them. –Jhoni Jackson

7

Helado Negro - "Please Won't Please"

If on Private Energy Helado Negro turned his focus inward, on “Please Won’t Please” – the first single off his forthcoming album This Is How You Smile – he zooms in so closely that we can see his words mirror our own personal universes. “Lifelong history shows, that brown won’t go, brown just glows,” Roberto Carlos Lange sings, putting the song directly in dialogue with previous tracks like “Young, Latin and Proud” and “It’s My Brown Skin.” But this time, he wraps himself in poetry and delicate instrumentation to narrate his own story, and the experiences and truths that have made him who he is.

In 2018, opportunism can be hard to distinguish from true artistic explorations of Latinx identity – but Helado Negro’s music is so honest that, like his skin, it simply glows. His beautiful, heartfelt way of whispering “this is me,” ignites a warm feeling of self-acceptance in our chests, calling us to reflect on our own history. Even though no one else understands what we’ve been through, we do, and that’s just perfect. – Cheky

8

Kali Uchis - "After the Storm" ft. Tyler, the Creator and Bootsy Collins

We thought 2017 was the worst year imaginable, then 2018 hit. At least Kali Uchis came through with Isolation, her much anticipated, thoroughly satisfying first full-length album. The third album single “After the Storm,” featuring Tyler, The Creator and Bootsy fucking Collins, was the super-chill, retro-futuristic stand-out on an album of tracks that gave it plenty of competition. Characteristically laid-back for Kali Uchis, it’s nevertheless an anthem of self-sufficiency and empowerment. The lyrics say “Get it together,” and “Don’t quit,” while the steady bass (courtesy of Collins) and warm, soul-food production (Thanks, BADBADNOTGOOD) gently adds, “You can do it.”

Uchis’ signature preternaturally cool, breezy vocal delivery made the mid-tempo funk jam into a slice of sunshine and vitamin C. It appeared at a mid-January moment that found a lot of us really wanting to believe her when she promised, “the sun will come out.” Her effortless confidence made it easy to do just that while we waited for Isolation to get here and keep us company. – Beverly Bryan

9

Lechuga Zafiro - “Agua y Puerta”

It should come as some comfort in these days of human bluster and brimstone that Earth will almost surely survive civilization as we know it. Perhaps that darkly comforting certainty powered Uruguayan producer and Salviatek co-founder Lechuga Zafiro as he toured the nocturnal club gatherings of the world and worked on Testigo EP, released this summer through NAAFI. Nowhere more than on track “Agua y Puerta” does one feel Lechuga’s conviction that nature shapes us. The listener is ritually and repeatedly dunked into water, a symphony of aquatic resolve that forces a late night dancer to confront the notion of moving in time to a most natural force — indeed, a substance that makes up about 60 percent of our body mass. The implications of this subversion of electronic technology are rather breathtaking, a study of the boundaries of moisture and sound. NAAFI’s accompanying video clip echoes with an unfurling of pulsing epidermis, furrowed brows, and of course, the rippling surface of H2O. – Caitlin Donohue

10

El Shirota - "Desobediencia"

Estado de México’s El Shirota has a remarkable career trajectory. Starting out as a carefree and jittery garage rock outfit, over the years, they have ripped their music up and stitched it back together in a brutish fashion. Their 2016 self-titled, all-black cover EP kept things dangerous, thanks to straight-ahead burners and experimental psychedelic jams that didn’t sacrifice their power. In 2018, they dropped a twin release – same number of tracks, same cover art, recorded in the same sessions – and opener “Desobediencia” makes it clear this is an even bigger beast. The newest Shirota album has less division between three-chord chuggers and feedback-drenched excursions, as this song makes clear; what starts as a bass-heavy evil romper soon degenerates into a noisy lurch before switching back to the original structure. They incorporate black metal tropes into their noise punk aesthetic, adding a new dimension to the skronk. While mainstream rock is adhering to proven formulas and respecting elders for nostalgia’s sake, El Shirota is showing how guitar-based music can be just as thrilling and groundbreaking as other contemporary genres, all while recognizing the movement’s roots. It’s this sense of innovation that promises they’ll be at the forefront of punk and other subgenres of rock for the foreseeable future. – Marcos Hassan

11

C.Tangana - "Traicionero" (ft. Cromo X)

Dominican producer and rapper Cromo X’s 2016 “Traicionero” makes an excellent case for why DR urbano artists deserve more shine. Racing staccato and underlying beat-creepiness proved to neatly forecast certain strains of trance-y nihilism in modern Latin trap and club genres. It was so forward-looking that two years later, Cromo managed to extend the song’s shelf life by linking with chart-topping madrileño C. Tangana, looking to expand his own market by tapping into the boom-time urbano moment popping off across the Atlantic. (Tangana loves a good betrayal lyric — just listen to 2018 follow-up “Bien Duro.”) Mexico City collective NAAFI assisted with the collab, debuting a sexy new version starring Pucho via an eminently watchable lo-fi video. It was the opening act of Tangana’s biggest, most eclectic year yet. But when the “Traicionero” rework proved to be club gold, its credits often relegated Cromo X to a featuring role. Here’s hoping posterity will remember the true nature of events — particularly for the reveal they provide as to how today’s global hits are often formed. –Caitlin Donohue

12

Francisca Valenzuela - “Tómame”

Sometimes, in moments of sheer musical triumph, a song will sound exactly like its subject matter—and Chilean artist Francisca Valenzuela pulls off this very act of sonic and lyrical cohesion on her splashy hit “Tómame.” The track is a wet, unabashed wallop of electro-pop friskiness; it drips and dribbles with layered synths and slippery flourishes programmed to sound like water drops and tiny sloshes. All the while, Valenzuela builds up our thirst, frothily pouring out an invitation for someone to drink her up as she declares that she wants to be “como el agua que te refresca la boca, el espacio entre tu piel y tu ropa.” She’s at her most provocative and playful during these three minutes of sex-positive seduction, and she brilliantly pairs that come-hither attitude with the song’s torrent of dance energy—designed to leave you soaked in sweat and yearning for more. – Julyssa Lopez

13

Debit - “Audiacious”

Short and anything but sweet, Debit’s “Audiacious” is the sensory and intellectual shockwave of clashing passions for ambient music and dark club sounds. Demonstrating a hunger for cerebral sonic investigations, “Audiacious” is one of several unique narratives on the producer’s debut album Animus, which, upon release, received co-signs from electronic music publications like FACT and Resident Advisor. The success of Animus has made Debit one of Mexican collective NAAFI’s crown jewels, earning bookings at Panorama Festival in New York City and centering her philosophical questioning during performances at Mutek in Montreal and Mexico City. But “Audiacious” remains at the center of Debit’s creative essence, unleashing a jagged dance floor diatribe that reaches dystopian heights as it unravels. The track builds on an ice-cold beat – quasi-militaristic in its rigidity – while gauzy synths come in thoughtful waves. Buzzing and a series of unexpected silences allow the listener to come up for air throughout – until Debit gets back to work disassembling all our preconceived notions of music, or even sound. – Richard Villegas

14

Mala Fama - “Yara Huaita Yura Huaita”

A real good reason to experiment with folkloric music traditions in electronic settings (or anywhere at all) would be in pursuit of a phrase I learned from the press release for Mala Fama’s Anta EP, released by ambitious experimental label APOCALIPSIS. “Non-linear retellings,” it said, an expression of the Ibarra, Ecuador producer’s goal of recording services at the local church in the indigenous community of Cotacachi. In so doing, and via the punctilious production work that followed, Mala Fama creates an out-of-body sensation, some kind of portal out of a reductive reality and into a wraparound view of another neighborhood’s seismic shifts. Anta itself means “machine” in Quechua, a clever fusion that at once identifies the aural vibe of the APOCALIPSIS project. If it all sounds well-planned, that is because the single is one of the first releases from a new label that seems hellbent on multi-dimensional storytelling of indigenous South American traditions, with language that invites connection in even our most moment-anchored mentalities. And if the haunting track inspires someone to educate themselves with some actual linear readings of life in Ecuador’s indigenous communities, all the better. – Caitlin Donohue

15

Trending Tropics - “Elintelné” ft. Wiso G

2018 may have been the year of the cynical, label-made feature, but Trending Tropics displayed a broader understanding of Latin America’s rhythmic commonalities, tapping a world of musical influences and guest stars for one of the wildest and most exuberant collaborations in recent memory. Comprised of Eduardo Cabra, better known as the Visitante half of Calle 13, and Dominican multi-instrumentalist Vicente García, Trending Tropics and their self-titled debut album unfold with all the twists and turns of a rollercoaster in hyperspeed. This should come as no surprise considering Cabra’s history of sonic alchemy and García’s own scholarly investigations into Afro-Caribbean musicology.

While the album beams with standouts, the epic techno merengue madness of “El Intelné,” featuring Puerto Rican reggaetonero Wiso G, soars to the top of the list. The premise is simple: an alien falls to Earth and cannot understand how humans are hopelessly addicted to electronic devices and a strange force called the Internet. The rest is a relentless three-minute game of perico ripiao Dance Dance Revolution that bounces from a drum machine and güira scrapes to Wiso G’s bars. García’s high-pitched vocals in the chorus add to the lively and humorous energy of “El Intelné,” making it one of the year’s most whimsical bangers. – Richard Villegas

16

Tomasa del Real – “Barre Con El Pelo" (ft. DJ Blass)

Neo-perreo high priestess Tomasa del Real delivered one of the year’s most exciting nuggets of dark club sweatiness in “Barre con el Pelo,” an ode to bad girl dance floor antics and the purest iteration of her body-rolling ethos. Sounding the alarm on her signing to Nacional Records, “Barre con el Pelo” was the lead single for Del Real’s debut album Bellaca del Año, ushering in a glossy new sound for Chile’s perreo queen while celebrating the underground grit that made her a star. And as reggaeton’s mainstream luminaries continue to thrive, Tomasa’s success showed that their independent counterparts are just as capable of bringing the heat.

The indisputable bop kicks off with Del Real spitting “Salgo corriendo con el combo de asesinas,” a line dripping with malicious glee as she swerves over production from Puerto Rican reggaeton legend DJ Blass, who saturates the beat with whooping vocals and crunchy synths. The vampy anthem received an equally hedonistic video styled and directed by the crew at Freak City L.A., unleashing a squad of sirens armed with outrageous hair extensions and the kind of off-the-charts swag that can neutralize any fuckboy shenanigans. –Richard Villegas

17

Kablito - "Puto Colchón"

Simultaneously effervescent and white hot, the second single released by LA-based, Ecuadorian-born pop singer-songwriter Kablito is likely the most impassioned song you’ll hear about feeling bored in a relationship. Tailor made for a dance remix, “Puto Colchón,” pairs a fully fleshed-out melody with a sturdy freestyle-inspired beat and shimmery synths. In the process, it brings high drama to what is really an extremely commonplace experience. With each yearning refrain of “Dame pasión, dame peligro, dame más,” the song seems to spiral ever higher, buoyed by the rising heat of its own pale fire.

Meanwhile, barely-there references to sirens of the ’80s and ’90s, from Rockell to En Vogue, add a sweet dusting of nostalgic romance that pushes things into the realm of absolutes: irresistible, undeniable, etc. It’s a single that announced the presence of a new formidable voice in pop, something that was confirmed by the subsequent release of her debut EP Telenovela. – Beverly Bryan

18

Omar Apollo - “Erase”

The first few chords of “Erase” are so hazy and full of lonely reverb that they almost feel detached—until R&B newcomer Omar Apollo swoops in and splays his smooth vocals across the track. He tenderly announces, “I don’t mind, my head’s in the sky / Thinkin’ of you, feelin’ for you,” a simple, dreamy kind of love letter that quickly warms up a moment of melancholy. It’s that straightforward, unassuming approach—and the velvet, butter-rich tone of his voice—that has made the Chicano from Hobart, Indiana one of the most talked about DIY acts this year. Pretty soon, he’s filling the song out with repeated examples of his effortless harmonies and aching falsetto. Like many of the bedroom jams that Apollo offered listeners on his 2018 EP Stereo, “Erase” leverages the singer’s ability to take instances of heartbreak and quiet vulnerability and transform them into lush soundscapes filled with soul. – Julyssa Lopez

19

Triángulo de Amor Bizarro - "O Isa"

Spain’s Triángulo de Amor Bizarro kicked off their 2018 EP El Gatopardo with an energy and conviction that was rare in guitar-based music this year. “O Isa” marries cold, damp, dark post-punk to appealingly noisy, propulsive garage rock, and works in a ghosty dub digression that somehow perfects the track. Its gothy snarl sets the tone for the rest of the four-song postcard from the veteran noisemakers, which is saturated with a pleasant chill that settles into the bones even as its grimy motor braces you against it. The EP finds the band shifting into a slightly new voice and sharing some of the most memorable songs of their career.

Reaching back to the Middle Ages for inspiration, the opening track is a bitter but poetic indictment of the reign of Isabella I of Castile, tracing the shadow of her rule through to the present day. Referencing political history is a standard move in the post-punk playbook, but getting fully medieval is unusual outside of metal. In the case of this song, it raises eyebrows in just the right way, and makes an unsettling point about the lasting effects one leader can have during their time in power. –Beverly Bryan

20

Los Wálters - "Lava"

Maybe “Lava” narrates the ending of a romantic love, but you couldn’t blame any Puerto Rican for adopting it as a tribute to a faraway friend. Though the post-Maria migration wave has slowed, it hasn’t stopped – and with the exodus restored to a steady pre-storm flow, it might be an actual fact that everyone has lost someone.

With “Lava,” Los Wálters – one of the biggest indie pop acts in the island’s independent scene, whose founders are geographically separated – have gifted those who’ve left with a piece of nostalgia to carry with them always. Released on its own in mid-September, the song reflects on a period of intense closeness that, at the time, seems able to withstand any worst-case scenario. But now, the physical absence of one person leaves the other at risk of petrifying in poor conditions.

A somber feeling emanates through the track’s slower vocal pace and deep synths, yet there’s a smattering of twinkles and hand-claps. The overall effect makes for a bittersweet sentiment. Imagining that a lot of Puerto Ricans who’ve relocated – or anyone who’s forced to move from their home, really – hear themselves represented on “Lava” isn’t a stretch. – Jhoni Jackson

21

Cuco - “Amor De Siempre” (Mariachi Version)

Cuco’s retooled version of 2016’s “Amor Por Siempre” kicks off with a wah pedal-driven guitar that invokes the holiest of Chicano entities, San Francisco’s Malo. The moment is brief – perhaps just a gentle summoning of his Chicano ancestors – but it opens a path for the incoming wall of mariachi sound that follows. Mariachis Lindas Mexicanas, an all-woman outfit from Boyle Heights, gently cradle the song with the guitarrón rhythms and mellow horn arrangements that permeated so many Chicano childhood pachangas, like the parties the 20-year-old singer’s grandparents hosted. “To be able to make something that is very much my culture into also something that I created definitely puts two worlds into one kind of really great crossover,” he told Remezcla earlier this year.

With the holidays coming up, it’s the perfect time to sneak “Amor De Siempre” in between repeat singalongs of “El Rey” and “Amor De Siempre’s” spiritual ancestor “Amor Eterno.” You might even catch your drunk tíos singing along before the sun comes up. You know, when posada really starts popping off. – Eduardo Cepeda

22

Melii - "Icey"

On “Icey,” ascendant Uptown rapper Melii issues a speaker-knocking warning to anyone who would dare to mess with the Harlem dominicana. On the viral hit, which was co-signed by queen RihRih herself, Melii gifts us with a series of perfectly bratty bars, an omen of her star potential and aptitude for crafting anthems meant to be rapped in the mirror. Melii switches between flows and languages breathlessly, at one point roaring “Bitch I can’t help that your pussy trash!” inducing a state of utter bliss. In the video, the self-described jiggy shorty with the curls flexes in a luxe yellow fur coat, lounging on a convertible. Catch me yelling “Cuida’o si me toca te quema” at the club for the foreseeable future. –Isabelia Herrera

23

Diego Raposo - “Desconocidos” (ft. Mula)

As the Dominican Republic spawns a new wave of independent artists, this collaboration between 22-year-old MITEL DICO label boss Diego Raposo and dark dembow duo Mula was nothing but fated. “Desconocidos” is a bubbly burst of bachata futurism; the tender, amorous vocals of Cris and Anabel Acevedo layer breathlessly over Raposo’s deceptively intricate production of guitar riffs, merengue tamboras, and baile funk percussion. Its split screen music video, directed by José Rozón, illustrates moments of quotidian Dominican life, from dominó games to bustling street corners captured from the front seat of a concho. Mula, Raposo, and other members of the MITEL DICO crew make cameos as passengers, and their wandering gazes embellish the song’s themes of unity and belonging amidst the anonymity of public transit. As a new generation of roots music artists experiment with the traditional sounds of the island, tracks like “Desconocidos” offer a sense of futurity, proving that these genres are overflowing with longevity beyond the realm of pure folklore. – Isabelia Herrera

24

Ile - “Odio”

In the aftermath of Hurricane María, Puerto Rican artists committed themselves to work that proved their community’s resilience, and Ileana Cabra’s single “Odio” may have been one of the most powerful examples of the island’s strength and resistance in the face of documented abuses and neglect from the U.S. government. The former Calle 13 rapper-turned-solo-singer leverages her hair-raising vocals to honor the 1978 Cerro Maravilla massacre, the police killing of two young pro-independence activists and its resulting government cover-up. Combining Puerto Rican traditions like a thudding bomba rhythm, Cabra links the past and the present and defiantly announces that hatred won’t ever win: “Que el odio se muera de hambre/Porque nadie le da de comer.” A video that doesn’t shy away from the brutality Puerto Ricans have overcome throughout history is just as arresting as the song — and it serves as a testament of Ile’s commitment to defending and demanding attention for the island. – Julyssa Lopez

25

Girl Ultra - “Llama”

Three years ago when Finesse Records singer Girl Ultra was just getting going, R&B en español was in a moment of dormancy. Spanish aughts-era artists like Flavio Rodríguez, Ikah, and Zwey had long since retreated into memory and Girl’s (now ex) labelmate Jesse Baez couldn’t very well prop up a genre on his own. The Mexican ex-disco singer Nan de Miguel neatly stepped in, and Girl Ultra has kept her footing at the top of the genre’s heap even now, in another moment of its relative popularity. She shows us how this is done on “Llama,” demonstrating that for the real crooner, drama need not entail pipe-rupturing vocal range or histrionic lyrics, but feeling. Chase me, the track whispers to the competition, which will be sure to oblige as the R&B en español ranks expand. The record also shows the depth of Finesse’s collaborative bench — “Llama”’s beat of soft desperation comes to you courtesy of Guadalajara’s Phynx and its mixed by producer-vocalist Adrian Be. – Caitlin Donohue

26

La Armada - "Unquenchable"

With lyrics that alternate between English and Spanish, Chicago punks La Armada produced one of 2018’s most urgent protest songs in “Unquenchable.” The band’s raw metal-meets-hardcore sound belies a sophisticated (and dead-on) lyrical critique, summarizing the sinister design behind the U.S.’s seemingly unquenchable appetite for putting black and brown people in cages. The song focuses on the criminalization of immigration and creeping expansion of the U.S. prison industrial complex to include the mass incarceration of immigrants. Simply but effectively, lead singer Javier Fernandez analyzes the purpose and mechanics of systemic racism. In a strangled whisper, he asks, pointedly: “¿Quién promueve la xenofobia? ¿Quién lucra del odio racial?” And what is behind it all? Put succinctly: “Profit.”

The song, which comes from the quartet’s second album Anti-Colonial Vol. 1, is also one of the LP’s most musically interesting tracks, incorporating folkloric rhythms like palo and gagá from the Dominican Republic, where the members of La Armada were born and raised. The band has been experimenting with blending Afro-Caribbean styles into their hardcore sound for some time, and in “Unquenchable” the result is both a poignant carrier of the song’s message and unlike anything heard in punk or metal, this year or any year previously. – Beverly Bryan

27

Florentino - “2 Late (Don't Call)” ft. Ms Nina

Throughout the genre’s history, reggaeton producers have spliced their flows into electronic wedges, from The Noise’s sample aerobics to DJ Blass’ trance-inspired push for perreo. In fact, there’s never been an era where reggaeton isn’t innovating synth sounds — just ask Luny Tunes. In 2018, these ventures have reached an outer stratosphere best expressed by Florentino’s “2 Late (Don’t Call),” from his EP Fragmentos. The UK-Colombia producer calls in Ms Nina, but instead of giving the reggaeton vocalist the sassy flows and full-throated hooks for which she is best known, Nina is restricted to a quick cellular dismissal of a love too far gone to explicate. With her minimalism, Florentino gives himself space to fill in the plotline with cutthroat finger snaps, mocking phone rings, and an alien’s sense of closure. The producer calls himself “el más romántico de los románticos,” and here he’s captured the sheer heartbreak of modern-day love ambivalence — consider yourself lucky if this track didn’t remind you of anyone in 2018. – Caitlin Donohue

28

Fuego - "Envidia"

From the moment the roaring bachata guitar riffs mutate into razor-sharp 808s, it’s clear that “Envidia” is heralding an irresistible return to form for Fuego. On this track from his album Libre: Fireboy Forever, the Dominican rapper – and the godfather of trap en español, thanks to Fireboy Forever II, one of the first full-length releases in the genre – assures us yet again that he has the prowess to dominate the world of Latin trap, where stale beats and forgettable rhymes abound.

Though “Envidia” tackles a well-worn subject in the genre, the original bachata guitar work and Luyo’s production lend verve to Fuego’s autobiographical bars. Libre: Fireboy Forever marked Fuego’s long-awaited return following his departure from Pitbull’s Mr. 305 Inc. label, as well as his arrival at Universal Music Latin’s Transcend.ent division, presaging a new future for the industry veteran as the album shifts between themes of fledgling romance and newfound independence. Fuego’s slight rasp rides the trapchata production seamlessly, with refrains like “Yo no sé cómo llegué vivo pero aquí estoy” begging to become Instagram captions. “Envidia” is proof the godfather’s still got it. –Isabelia Herrera

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Arca - “Fetiche”

Striking yet nuanced visuals, whether by video or live performance, are intrinsic to the Arca experience, like mental cues shepherding us through the Venezuelan producer’s own vulnerable explorations of emotion and healing from their harmful residues. Sometimes accompanying words are critical to the piece, too – like with “Fetiche,” released in April, where we were offered this instruction: “Look inward, cut yourself loose from your self; tolerate no abuse.” If you corral any wayward thoughts and concentrate completely on that for the entire clip, you might feel changed by the end of its almost 11 minutes.

Created with frequent co-collaborator Carlos Sáez, “Fetiche” shows a pair of legs – presumably Arca’s – interacting with a bouquet. Shiny, beige stilettos crush and smother the flowers. Hands graze bits against skin, then it’s all dropped to the floor for more punishment; the track evolves into crackling near-dissonance. There’s wild laughter, manipulated to an almost ready-to-snap crisp: the bouquet is almost unrecognizable. Arca’s feet gather the mess, but a mesmeric syncopation returns the purpose to crushing them. For the final two minutes, the screen is an opaque blush.

Are the flowers meant to represent the self? Could they be a metaphor for abuse? What about the abuse we inflict upon ourselves? In destroying the bouquet, is Arca obliterating inner negativity? The self? What are the repercussions of not freeing ourselves from either?

Arca’s repertoire – three albums, a few EPs, many remixes, short films – is experimental in the most far-reaching sense – a kind of radical therapy. “Fetiche” is just one session, but if you participate intently, it can be formative. – Jhoni Jackson

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Alice Bag - “77”

If this year felt like a bunch of passive aggressive backwash about who could be more un-asleep, Alice Bag had the antidote. No cheesy memes or hard-to-follow speechifying can be found in “77,” just a very honest, guttural scream about making less than men for doing the same damn job. Off her cutting album Blueprint, Los Angeles’ punk grand dame rages against the inequities of the the pay gap over an unrepentant wall of guitar chords, neatly presenting some satirical situations to illustrate her point: “I asked my landlord for discount rent/He said ‘Oh no little lady — pay 100 percent.’” A delightful accompanying video modeled on the Dolly Parton film classic 9 To 5 forecasted the album’s release, including the song’s featured artists Kathleen Hanna and Allison Wolfe (with Shirley Manson thrown in for good measure). A note on why it’s essential that Alice keep on shouting: though the 77 cents figure is accepted by some as the amount that white, non-Latinas make compared to their male peers, the American Association of University Women estimates that non-white Latina women are paid far less — only 53 cents to the non-Latino white man’s dollar, by the group’s count. –Caitlin Donohue

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Boundary - “De Mi Ser” ft. Cult Exciter

It’s only logical for artists to start making electronic music at a younger age these days. After all, technology has democratized the way music is produced and shared, and in the Age of Information, you can figure out how to do pretty much everything through a YouTube video. But to make music the way Dominican producer Josué Suero does as Boundary, you must have a different kind of sensibility.

Released when he was only 17 years old, “De Mi Ser,” the second track on his Mi Transferencia No. 2 EP, is all about restraint and effortless structure, something that’s hard for someone his age to commit to. For over five minutes, we float wherever this electronic breeze wants to take us. The vocal contribution from L.A. based duo Cult Exciter’s Z serves as our lighthouse, but when Suero manipulates it into a polyphonic swirl, we’re sent into a maelstrom, only to fall softly on arpeggiated steps. Boundary’s voice is fully formed and clear; all we have to do is listen. – Cheky

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Rubio - “Hacia El Fondo”

Fran Straube has been a mainstay of Chile’s vibrant indie scene for years, first capturing our hearts and ears as the drummer and frontwoman for Miss Garrison. However, Straube’s growing sonic curiosity eventually coalesced into her riveting solo project Rubio, where she swapped traditional rock structures in favor of more experimental textures. This shifting perspective has unfolded in a dramatic fashion across a series of micro-releases, giving fans a bird’s-eye view into Straube’s creative process, perhaps best exemplified by her early 2018 work “Hacia el Fondo.” Produced in conjunction with Pablo Stipicic, “Hacia el Fondo” is no doubt Rubio’s best-known release to date, plunging the adventurous roquera into the depths of digital club bedlam by chopping and screwing her signature howls and sprinkling them over a pulsating beat. The track also represents a major leap of faith for Straube, who relies on digital sounds and her musical instincts instead of the impressive gamut of percussive skills that have defined much of her career and Rubio’s ongoing journey. – Richard Villegas

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Chancha Via Circuito - "Ilaló" ft. Mateo Kingman

“Ilaló” opens with what could be an Andean prayer, a plea to divine figures and the morning star to deliver light and calm. There’s no context for why the song conjures tranquility and good vibes, but we’re living in a time where peace and illumination are needed everyday, and procuring these forces gets more difficult with each passing moment. Chancha via Circuito offers an escape, a response to the entreaty recited by Ecuadorian musician Mateo Kingman in the opening moments of “Ilaló,” giving us a musical backdrop that continues to evolve the subgenre the Buenos Aires artist helped pioneer a decade ago. But on “Ilaló,” the pair has found fresh ways to arrange folkloric instruments with electronics – there’s not a second in the song that sounds like generic electrocumbia. Through percussion of the past and beats of the present, the track is an invitation to revel in nature, one that leads to a sanctuary for the soul, like a psalm for the elements. – Marcos Hassan

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Cremalleras - "Nada Que Decir"

Cremalleras’ speed is a trained kind of breakneck, each furious track its own reprisal against a specific source of oppression. Together, the individual scouring bursts of Mercado Negro, the Mexican duo’s June LP, feels like a blueprint for dismantling society by destroying it altogether. Its unremitting feminism is contagious and invigorating.

So when Cremalleras released a split cassette with Heterofobia, of which drummer Dani is a member, finding “Nada que decir” was a surprise: It’s markedly more melodic than anything else they’ve released. And there’s no apocalyptic imagery (plagues, ashes, infections), unlike what they previously employed. Instead, this is a straightforward requiem for all the gifted cassettes and records collecting dust at the house of a former partner who never bothered to listen to them even once. And Violeta isn’t even fighting to get back this lot – instead, she waits in silence for this person’s inevitable exit from their day-to-day thoughts.

How does “Nada Que Decir” contribute to the patriarchy’s destruction? We could argue that the music lost to the terminated relationship might be, like most Cremalleras tracks, ready tinder for feminist fires. But let’s not. Instead, “Nada Que Decir” should be a reminder that those who work to engage feminism in defying and thus breaking down harmful, exclusionary, and violence-enabling norms have lives, too. We cannot expect 24/7 activism from anyone; it’s not a sustainable way to live. Your favorite feminist punks are also actual people, and like anyone, they have memories of relationships in need of purging, and cassettes and records they’re still bummed about losing. – Jhoni Jackson

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Balún - “El Espanto”

In the face of withering economic woes and natural disasters, diasporic melancholy has become an intrinsic component of modern Puerto Rican music. We’ve seen profound storytelling emerge from the indie world in bands like Buscabulla and Los Wálters, who throughout their careers have reconciled lives on the US mainland with the emotional beckoning of their Caribbean homeland. This year it was Balún’s time to shine, refracting the countless sounds, emotions and experiences of the Boricua diaspora on their spectacular sophomore album Prisma Tropical. The Brooklyn and San Juan-based ensemble gave us several high points to choose from, with “El Espanto” standing out as the purest utterance of the band’s penchant for experimentation and bold fusions, playfully dubbed ‘dreambow’ – a collision of dreampop and dembow.

“El Espanto” pushes Balún’s avant-garde ambitions to the edge, kicking things off with timid synth stabs and rapidly graduating to digital horns, an infectious reggaeton beat and rapturous IDM crescendo. Despite its danceable nature, sorrow inevitably rears its head by virtue of Angelica Negrón’s ethereal vocals and poignant lyrics. “No ser, ni estar en un lugar / Desvanecer, terror multicolor,” she whispers innocently, capturing the unmistakable inner turmoil of displaced people around the world. – Richard Villegas

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Trillones - “Ir Hacia El Miedo”

Mexicali producer Polo Vega has turned heads with his output as Trillones since the project’s inception. Relying on dreamy, affective soundscapes and unstoppable electronic beats, Vega has explored the territory between contemplative tracks and party music in his work. This year’s Tal Vez No Existe integrated both styles, allowing the tension between melodicism and rigidity to collide in unexpected ways, and in turn generating a heat seldom heard anywhere else. There’s a feeling of luminosity in “Ir Hacia El Miedo” amid the baile funk-adjacent percussion, as melody blooms between the cracks of booming electronic drums. This textural quality makes “Ir Hacia El Miedo” a work of art that evokes a sensorial and subtly surreal narrative, one that unfolds without clear lyrics or even melodies. It reveals itself like a painting, as the listener gives it sense and purpose. But “Ir Hacia El Miedo” is more than just abstraction or intellect; it’s a rush of dance floor adrenaline, guaranteeing the night will endure. – Marcos Hassan

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Carolina Camacho – “Tingó”

One of the year’s most poignant pieces of social criticism came from Dominican leona Carolina Camacho, who, on “Tingó,” her sole release of 2018, unpacked and eviscerated oppressive patriarchal structures while promoting empathy in lieu of anger. “Tingó” is inspired by and dedicated to Afro-Dominican activist Mamá Tingó, an influential figure of resistance who was murdered in the 1970s while defending her land. Beyond presenting a straightforward feminist anthem, Camacho aims to break the silence that women are subjected as a consequence of machismo-driven violence. “Quítame la mano de la boca/la venda de tus ojos/y camina conmigo,” she sings, inviting men everywhere to join her on the path to freedom, equality, and self-love. Camacho’s musical choices should not be overlooked either, as highlighting her Afro-Caribbean heritage continues to be an essential component of her sound. Blending traditional tamboras with trap production and the faintest whisper of West African guitar picking keep “Tingó” firmly rooted in Camacho’s musical birthright, while paving new avenues for innovation and self-actualization. – Richard Villegas

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Tali Goya - "Eh Mami"

On “Eh Mami,” production team Noc & LinkOn seamlessly layer a sinister funk carioca rhythm with Tali Goya’s salaciously guttural bars and call-and-response background vocals, spawning a trap-carioca mutant that showcases transculturation at its finest. “Eh Mami” signals the ongoing evolution of baile funk, as Dominican dembow producers continue to explore the overlap between these sounds. Goya frequently weaves between dembow, trap, and funk carioca in his repertoire, and it’s because of this versatility that the 28-year-old Dominican rapper is quickly proving why he’s on the vanguard of urbano’s rising wave. Blast “Eh Mami” on only the bass-heaviest of systems, and try not to incite an impromptu living room perreo function. Or, you know, do. –Eduardo Cepeda

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Los Mundos - "Amantes de la Sangre"

While the eyes and ears of the music cognoscenti usually linger over Mexico City, the northern metropolis of Monterrey remains an untapped haven of talent and diversity, boasting vibrant rap, reggaeton, and punk scenes throughout. No conversation on Monterrey is complete without a nod to Los Mundos, the duo comprised of Chivo Elizondo and Luis Angel Martínez. Their latest album, a 40-minute pummeling titled Ciudades Flotantes, highlights the band’s fascination with psych, doom, and sci-fi, coming together as a defining mission statement in “Amantes de la Sangre.”

The track is a devilishly seductive love letter to creatures of the night, empathizing with the blood-sucking proclivities of vampires and their ilk. Embracing his inner Nosferatu, Martinez sings of Christian symbolism and deliciously throbbing necks all the while Elizondo’s hellish and melodic riffs pour from a roaring guitar. It’s astonishing just how appealing Los Mundos are able to make the prospect of feasting on a warm stream of blood, but for a band that has crafted a concept album based on the works of HP Lovecraft and are currently recording their next record in an abandoned mine, “Amantes de la Sangre” is just another excellent day at the office. – Richard Villegas

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Cuco - “Sunnyside”

Omar Banos – better known as Cuco – often builds his music alone in his bedroom, playing and recording each instrument on his own. However, as the lyrics of “Sunnyside” attest to, it can get lonely. Over a dreamy, prog-rock haze, Cuco sings of yearning for someone he can’t find, feeling blue all the while. The song’s lyrics are simple and direct, but they resonate profoundly – a songwriting gift that has helped cement the 20 year-old as a heartthrob who steadily packed venues with love-struck Latina teens in 2018. This was a break-out year for the Chicano artist, which saw him headline the Together Tour, play Coachella and Governor’s Ball, and release the 6-track EP Chiquito. But the momentum didn’t come without difficult moments; in May, he tweeted about struggling with substance abuse and mental health, and in October, Omar and his band were involved in a serious car crash that prematurely ended their tour (everyone is now thankfully recovered). You can hear this blend of light and dark moments in his music, woven into his signature woozy, off-balance sound. While Banos never finds the love he yearns for on “Sunnyside,” the keyboards are rays of sunshine that pierce the haze during the song’s chorus, crescendoing in a guitar solo that rises like dawn breaking after the darkness of night. The result is a song of hope in which words are not needed to show the light. – Marcos Hassan

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Tomás Urquieta – “La Sustancia de la Materia”

When Tomás Urquieta’s “La Sustancia de la Materia” begins, we find ourselves in the middle of a bleak, sordid landscape like the ones the Chilean producer has masterfully constructed in his previous EPs Manuscript and La Muerte de Todo lo Nuevo. The experience is chilling; in this frigid atmosphere, doors close on us like the rejection we frequently face as human beings. But Urquieta has a punk rock soul, and he turns rejection into his fuel, creating an explosive composition of industrial techno that functions as the dynamite we need to detonate every obstacle in the path to freedom.

As most of the music found on Dueños De Nada, his official debut album on Infinite Machine, “La Sustancia de la Materia” isn’t exactly a pleasant listen, and in that way it mimics life in an oppressive system. But deep in its dark heart, the production is actually a call to liberation – one that can begin right now, on the dance floor. – Cheky

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Huaira - "Ochiemay"

For many of us, Nicola Cruz’s 2015 single “Colibría” was the first introduction to Huaira. Just in time for the summer solstice, and backed by musicians Diego Illescas and Pablo and Julio Vicencio, the Ecuadorian vocalist released her debut EP Ñuka Shunku (“I’m all heart” in Quechua). Its second track “Ochiemay” conjures vivid visions of the Americas, as well as its wild and ineffable landscapes and indigenous cultures.

“Ochiemay” radiates healing energy, as Huaira brandishes plucked strings, Andean flutes, and Afro-Ecuadorian rhythms to summon Mother Nature, even if we’re trapped in concrete in the middle of a harsh city, illuminated by a laptop screen. The lyrics, sung both in Quechua and Spanish, are charged with symbolism, resembling a prayer that honors nature and our ancestors. We can feel the warmth of the blood running through our veins, and in a world that’s growing colder by the day, who doesn’t need that? – Cheky

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Hidden Memory - "Ritmo Oscuro"

Nothing makes a person seek a deeper connection to their roots than distance from their homeland and culture. Venezuelans have learned this the hard way, with a continually worsening immigration crisis. Producer Emmerson Hernández fled Venezuela 10 years ago, and after cutting his teeth abroad while dabbling with experimental club music, he relocated to the Netherlands this year, just in time to unleash Hidden Memory, a new project where he reconnects with his own Afro-Venezuelan ancestry.

“Ritmo Oscuro,” from his debut Dark Rhythms EP, is the best example of this quest to embrace his heritage and spark a dialogue between afro-diasporic genres. His use of raw percussion samples from the black Venezuelan coast sound perfectly at home when paired with a dark, heavy-hitting gqom beat, especially when layered with echoes of ritualistic chants from Mali’s Dogon tribe. Thanks to his profound understanding of bass music, Hernández can twist these sounds to find a home on international dance floors, where his music can accomplish its main goal: uniting people and celebrating a sense of community through the use of ancestral rhythms. – Cheky

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STEFA* - “Sepalina”

Queens-born artist Stefa Marín Alarcón wrote “Sepalina” after finding out her grandmother hailed from the Emberá-Chamí tribe, a discovery that changed her life forever. While researching the Emberá people online, she encountered a traditional chant that she transcribed and adapted for “Sepalina.” Both the track and the album tell the story of an amnesiac “native alien” who washes up on the shore of an unfamiliar world, stripped of her memories and her language. The alien tries to piece together her background, creating a thinly veiled metaphor for STEFA*’s own story. On “Sepalina,” STEFA*’s multi-tracked vocals summon forebears she will most likely never know, a choir of ghosts responding to her own call through harmonies and ecstatic hollering. Her vocals are the musical setting for her ancestors to connect to a modern world that doesn’t fully accept her, but they also transport her to a new life. For generations of immigrants, refugees, and colonized people both old and new, disconnections between the past and present are all-too-familiar. STEFA* manages to harness this sentiment into a restless, naturalistic, and futuristic song to which so many can relate. It’s an ambitious undertaking that hits its emotional highs with intensity. – Marcos Hassan

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Zeta - "Completar"

Venezuelan experimental punk collective Zeta have built an outstanding international network of multidisciplinary artists and fans across the world in their 15 years of existence, which has allowed them to play over 200 shows in 2018. If you consider them the sons of Venezuela’s complex socioecomonic crisis, which has forced them to leave their home country, it makes sense – they are hungry to blur borders through their music, and their latest record, Magia Infinita, is their most emotionally raw and honest effort to do just that.

“Completar,” the second single off Magia Infinita, encapsulates both the essence of the whole record and Zeta’s core sound and vision. The song’s thunderous drumming and Afro-Latino percussive elements evince the band’s mestizo musical identity, and its hardcore growl is the ultimate vehicle to convey their message of resilience, which, as Ecuadorian troubadour Ricardo Pita says, reminds us of our own mortality and propels us into action. Zeta refuses to let hardships bring them down; instead, they use them to fuel their journey. “Completar” functions as the hand of a friend that helps us get up from the mud, and considering what 2019 holds for us, we could definitely use it. – Cheky

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Aliment - "Flesh and Gold"

Everything the Girona, Spain band did this year was striking. From the art that accompanied the releases to their actual music, nothing about Aliment seemed to suggest they left anything up to chance. Three years since their last big release, “Flesh and Gold” indicates that the band is making up for lost time, imbuing new maturity into their songwriting and making their work more compelling, dramatic, and much more punk. Taking their cues from the spikier corners of post-punk giants like Devo and Wire, the trio apply a sense of atypical musicality into a hardcore groove, and sprinkle it with dissonant guitars that update this unnerving rock genre into the present. Aliment offer targeted anger, an emotional release that zeroes in on sentiments we might not find the words to express. They start a racket, and we can see ourselves losing it in the pit. It could well be the sound of so much frustration over the senselessness of our times, where violence and injustice seems to be hanging in the air. –Marcos Hassan

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Entrópica - "N"

Opening with a bass-heavy beat and rich, full analog synths that hit the inside of your chest, “N” delivers a meandering melody punctuated with joyous claps, the perfect match for dancing – or lying in bed contemplating your tiny place in the vastness of the universe. “N” is the first track from Chilean producer, singer, and sound engineer Francisca Bascuñán’s NARF EP. Released on Chilean electronic record label Pirotecnia, the EP is Bascuñan’s first fully instrumental project.

Initially produced with the intention to add vocals, Bascuñán noticed that each track worked on its own, so she ultimately decided to release them as they were. This decision has given Bascuñán a chance to flex her production muscles; while she has always produced and been at the forefront of each painstaking stage of her work, throughout her career, she has been outspoken about people’s (misogynist) assumptions that someone else is behind her sound. NARF leaves no room for such questions, and firmly establishes Bascuñán as the force she is. – Verónica Bayetti Flores

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Ladrones - “Tropimuerte”

Songs about partying are, on the surface, simply odes to good times. But considered in context, you might find that partying is political – like on “Tropimuerte,” from San Juan, Puerto Rico’s Ladrones. Existing in that undeniably fun sweet spot of punk and rock ‘n’ roll fusion, where pogoing, slam dancing, or moshing all make sense, this dedication to the island’s tradition of el jangueo could easily go unnoticed for what it really is: A declaration of individuality defying any demands for conformity.

We know that rigid gender roles and normative sexuality translate to diminished or altogether obliterated rights for anyone who isn’t a cisgender, heterosexual man, and that their enforcement facilitates rape culture. Women who are out by themselves at night are “asking for it.” Queer people who publicly display their sexuality to any degree are provoking straight people. If you’re a trans person who can pass as cisgender, any violence that comes to you is a result of having deceived someone. Folks whose gender presentation doesn’t fit the societal standard quo are subject to the same cruelties.

There’s no such thing as a place where anyone is completely protected, but the spaces where we come together in rejecting those oppressive rules outright are safer ones – and that can include communities concentrated in nightlife, like San Juan’s independent music scene. “Tropimuerte” is a way of carrying your chosen safer space with you everywhere, of embedding in your state of mind that you should never apologize for being who you are while you do exactly what you want. We only wish we could blast the growl of singer Valeria Sánchez – “Y si la paso cabrón no tengo que disculparme” – into the ears of the people who uphold a society that makes it dangerous to live those ethos literally, and everywhere. –Jhoni Jackson

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Rosa Pistola - “Y Que Lo Mueva" ft. MC Buseta (Prod. By Ynfynyt Scroll)

When we asked Rosa Pistola about her role in the curation and execution of her mixtape La Linea Del Sexxx earlier this year, the Colombian-born DJ told Remezcla, “I’m like the reggaeton DJ Khaled.” And despite not being a single, “Y Que Lo Mueva” stood out amongst a pack of songs curated by the budding reggaeton selector, which included the title track and the mixtape’s surprisingly satiating intro.

With production from Ynfynyt Scroll and bars from Brazilian vocalist MC Buseta, the reggaeton oscuro banger signals promising futures for everyone involved. Though the song relies on a classic reggaeton dembow riddim as its foundation, the nu-cumbia lead synths and trap-inspired undertones signal the forward-looking spirit of “Y Que Lo Mueva.” There’s also an “emo” remix on Ynfynyt Scroll’s own Summer ‘18 Mixtape. Expect to hear a lot more from the Peruvian producer, Brazilian MC, and the Colombian-born DJ in 2019. –Eduardo Cepeda

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Perra Vida - "Célebres Plumíferos"

You can taste the anger and adrenaline from the first syllable Diana Matos screams into the microphone: Matos and her partners in Perra Vida are not here to play. The lyrics of “Célebres Plumíferos” rail against those who stand silent against injustice and oppression, the consequences of inaction turning to shit because of the celebrated feathered creatures that give the song its title. In an era of heightened racism, misogyny, homophobia, white supremacy, and far-right mobilization, “Célebres Plumíferos” transcends Perra Vida’s specific political context of Peru, becoming a universal anthem for all marginalized folks. The band’s musical approach matches the song’s lyrical content – raging chords, hardcore breakdowns, crust punk guitars and riot grrrl-inspired vocal power – but as much aggression as there is, the message arrives loud and clear. It doesn’t dilute their criticisms with melody, but rather reinforces it. Lyrically, the song ends in doubt rather than sloganeering, suggesting that without thoughtful action, screaming about injustice will only do so much. –Marcos Hassan