On his sixth album, Debí Tirar Más Fotos, Bad Bunny brings listeners along for his triumphant homecoming with 17 songs that traverse Puerto Rico’s rich kaleidoscope of genres.
Editor’s picks Bad Bunny can’t help but revel in the childish joy of being back home, and the euphoric title track sums this feeling up.
Bad Bunny makes sure to bring rising artists from Puerto Rico along for the ride on Debí Tirar Más Fotos, and the payout couldn’t be better.
Each collaboration feels true to the artists’ unique sound, almost like the roles are reversed and Bad Bunny is the featured voice.
In “Baile Inolvidable,” Bad Bunny shows where those earlier salsa references were leading: to his own take on the classic Caribbean genre.
Nadie Sabe Lo Que Va a Pasar Mañana, Bad Bunny’s unabashed fifth album, was released a little more than a year ago. The worldwide celebrity flaunted his opulent lifestyle, complete with a supermodel girlfriend and a new ZIP code in Hollywood Hills, on the rap-forward LP. Bad Bunny sounded lost in a vortex of unfathomable fame as he struggled with the hectic year that followed his career-defining album, Un Verano Sin Ti, amid the trap-drenched beats thumping around him in dim nightclubs. Everything seemed unapproachable, completely different from the former grocery store bag boy who later became a reggaeton pioneer. When you need to rediscover who you are, where do you go? For Bad Bunny, it’s home.
With 17 tracks that span Puerto Rico’s diverse range of musical styles, Bad Bunny takes listeners on a triumphant homecoming with his sixth album, Debí Tirar Más Fotos. It is indigenous, joyous, and new as Benito expands his constantly evolving sound into the unexplored realm of Puerto Rican folk music and salsa while incorporating the greatest parts of Un Verano Sin Ti. Bad Bunny finds aspects of himself that seemed lost only a year ago—the poet who is in love, the dreamer, and, most importantly, the proud Puerto Rican—while paying tribute to his native country and memories of his life there.
The trip begins in New York, a pivotal location in the Puerto Rican diaspora, and travels from the Bronx to the “Loisaida.”. Bad Bunny uses the city to proclaim his unparalleled musical brilliance, giving credit to Boricua icons who helped him along the way, such as salsa artist Willie Colon and Nineties hip-hop hitmaker Big Pun. Against a raucous dembow beat, he even samples the song “Un Verano en Nueva York” by El Gran Combo de Puerto Rico, which is sung by Andy Montañez Rodrígue, known as the “Godfather of Salsa” from Puerto Rico. The mood of the Debí Tirar Más Fotos adventure is set by this daring song. The important reminder that Puerto Rico is both his and reggaeton’s birthplace is given when Bad Bunny finally lands there after making a brief stop in Miami for a perreo that pays homage to early 2000s classic reggaeton.
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The euphoric title track perfectly captures Bad Bunny’s unbridled delight at this return to his homeland. “DTMF” combines lively plena, a Puerto Rican folk call-and-response style, with Nintendo-inspired beats reminiscent of his seminal 2020 album Yo Hago Lo Que Me Da La Gana. Here, it sounds as though Bad Bunny’s friends were shouting back at him during the recording of the chants, which took place in the emerald green backyard featured on the album cover. Benito appears to be sipping rum while absorbing everything while seated in one of those white plastic lawn chairs. As he shares his new life philosophy, the now 30-year-old’s lyrics mark a significant shift from his 2023 perspective: “Ya no estamo’ pa’ la movie’ y las cadena/’Tamos pa’ las cosa’ que valgan la pena” (We’re no longer about the flashy stuff and chains/We’re here for the things that are truly worth it). Those things? His cherished archipelago, loved ones, and remembering each one by capturing more images of them.
The payoff on Debí Tirar Más Fotos is unbeatable, and Bad Bunny makes sure to bring up-and-coming Puerto Rican artists. RaiNao, a singer-songwriter, croons on “Perfumito Nuevo,” Lorén Torres of Chuwi sings a piercing soprano in the trap-charged daydream song “Weltita,” and Dei V and Omar Courtz trade verses in an old-school reggaeton song. It almost seems as though Bad Bunny is the featured voice and the roles are reversed, as each collaboration stays true to the artists’ distinct sound. The band Los Pleneros de la Cresta, who are committed to preserving plena in the present era, have the most unexpected and fruitful partnership. Their song “Café Con Ron” combines breathtaking congos with folky plena to create an enjoyable, effervescent journey up Puerto Rico’s mountainside.
Bad Bunny demonstrates in “Baile Inolvidable” where those earlier allusions to salsa were leading: to his own interpretation of the traditional Caribbean music. Against the echoing synths of Un Verano Sin Ti producer MAG, he sounds like a master thanks to a chorus of clapping claves and roaring trombones that seem to tell their own melodic story. With straightforward, sentimental lyrics that stick in your head long after the last note, the booming refrain (“No, no te puedo olvidar/No, no te puedo borrar/Tú me enseñaste a querer/Me enseñaste a bailar” or “No, I can’t forget you/No, I can’t erase you/You taught me how to love/You taught me how to dance”) is strong enough to become an instant classic.
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With songs rife with eerie heartbreak and regret, Bad Bunny’s main theme of longing is playing on repeat on DTMF. From the cuatro-led bolero “Turista” to the gentle scorcher “Bokete,” it’s the most vulnerable and melancholy Bad Bunny has ever sounded. The album’s passionate tributes to PR are far superior to these songs, even though they offer a fresh and insightful glimpse into Benito’s corazón.
In the meantime, Bad Bunny’s political side, which was conspicuously lacking from his previous album, comes to the fore once more. The decima-inspired song “Lo Que Le Pasó a Hawaii” blends the lyrical folk music of the Jibaro people of Puerto Rico, who live in the island’s mountains and countryside, with taunting hip-hop percussion, which gives each word a warning-like sound. Before comparing Puerto Rico’s continuous battle to determine its own status between independence from the United States and independence, Benito cautions his people, “No, no suelte’ la bandera ni olvide’ el lelolai” (“No, don’t let go of the flag nor forget the lelolai”). S. . statehood, or to continue as an American colony alongside Hawaii.
With his most politically charged performance, Bad Bunny ends the album. On “La Mudanza,” he makes the bold declaration that he will remain in Puerto Rico indefinitely, at a time when the island’s corruption is driving out an increasing number of its citizens. The pinnacle of Benito’s resistance was his creation of an album and song that were so proudly Boricua during his prime. It seems as though Bad Bunny has discovered a whole new level of greatness at the top of the Puerto Rico mountains as he confidently transitions between a flurry of rumba rhythms and boisterous reggaeton sirens. He asserted that he was at the height of his abilities on Nadie Sabe. It’s evident that he is at last on Debí Tirar Más Fotos.
