Some say heartbreak is the worst form of grief. As opposed to the astronomical void caused by a powerless party through death, cutting ties with a romantic partner is completely optional. Like love, it’s a choice – thus making the resulting pain of their loss especially painful. Many if not all of us have felt that punch in the gut, y supongo – considering his thankfully semi-consistent sad boi tracks – que San Benito tambien. One of the traits that makes Bad Bunny so attractive artistically is his range and refreshing oddities. His ability to merge both his sad and cocksure natures so effortlessly is just one example of that. “Vete” is a stripped down, literal goodbye to summer’s love. The title translates to leave.
The recipient of the Latin Grammy for Best Urban Album of 2019 posted a short clip of himself sporting a neon green Kids of Immigrants pullover to share news of the surprise track.
Bad Bunny’s chill corta venas collection, best paired with a hot toddy and/or sopita caliente, includes five tracks that reflect the many episodes of a confident mami o papi going through the aftershock of heartbreak. “Amorfada,” a 2018 track that literally loops a handful of notes and is time and time again a belt-worthy concert staple, highlights and accepts that raw broken state after the split. “Vete,” soundtracks that holy anger the second, real breakup incites (you know, the one after the first attempt). “De nuestras series ya no salen temporadas… Pa’l carajo nuestro aniversario y San Valentín,” he spits at one point. “Solo de Mi” celebrates that solitude with newfound hubris and perreo. The sax on “La Cancion” finds its way to you three months or so later, and gently wipes that single tear left in the heartsick duct assigned to this case. Finally, “Si Estuviésemos Juntos” fondly recalls that old love a year later and imagines what could have been.
Does “Vete” stand out in this batch? Quizas no. But, it lives on an emo wavelength I (and I suspect many of you) generally appreciate, and have come to expect from this urbano loverboy – a statement that can’t be said for many others in the often predictable genre.