Bad Bunny’s new album, DeBÍ TiRAR MáS FOToS, is an ode to Puerto Rico and its people while simultaneously crossing borders and sparking cultural conversations. For Andrea Beyer-Fraile, it sparked countless nights of introspection on her own multicultural background
One of my New Year's resolutions for 2025 was to be more truthful to myself. There was no better way to kick off that journey than with Bad Bunny’s new album DeBÍ TiRAR MáS FOToS (I should have taken more photos). Released on January 5th, just in time for Día de los Reyes, a cherished Christmas tradition in Hispanic communities. The seventeen songs on the holiday’s eve felt like a special gift.
The album weaves together different musical genres and spans generations; it is undeniably an ode to Puerto Rico and a celebration of its vibrant culture. Sonically, it is an experience that transcends through rhythms of salsa, bomba, bolero, and perreo alongside contemporary urbano music. The lead-off track, “NUEVAYoL”, features Puerto Rican El Gran Combo’s 1975 salsa classic “Un Verano en Nueva York,” which then fuses with Dominican reggaeton, “BOKeTE” (Potholes) is a bachata melody alongside Latin pop, and “BAILE INoLVIDABLE” (Unforgettable Dance) is a heartbreaking six-minute long salsa. A musical burst of excitement, pleasing to all listeners, even those who do not speak a lick of Spanish.
The narrative presents a striking contradiction to its upbeat sounds, and it is a political allegory for the continuous struggle of Puertorriqueños. The album takes its name from the track “DtMF”, which captures the grief of not having appreciated the people and places we cherish when we had the opportunity.
It is a reminder that we should have captured the essence of what will never be the same again, whether that be our families or the places we call home.
The song has skyrocketed and gained significant attention on social media platforms, and it is being applauded by Spanish and non-Spanish speakers alike, with countless montages to the tune on TikTok and Instagram, which would have anyone in an emotional upheaval. “DtMF” is a homage to the Boricuas who have been forced to leave the island , “Disfrutando de todas esas cosas que extrañan los que se van” (Enjoying all of the things that those who leave miss.) This sentiment has crossed borders and embraced immigrants worldwide, becoming an instrument for cross-cultural empathy. Bad Bunny, in an interview with popular Puerto Rican comedian Chente Ydrach, commented on the impact the message of the album is having.
“This album is opening up a lot of topics for conversation, uniting families, generations, and people from different countries."
I am seeing videos from people from other countries who are reconnecting with their own cultures from their countries, admiring our culture and reconnecting with theirs.
Admittedly, since its release, the discography has consumed me, sparking countless nights of introspection on my multicultural background. As a Euro-Latin baby with Euro-Latin parents, issues of identity have always been a complicated subject for our family. My parents were born and raised in Venezuela, coming from German and Spanish families. Eventually, they immigrated to Spain, where they raised me with quintessentially Venezuelan food like pabellón criollo and cachapas, and countless attempts to teach me how to dance merengue. These passed down snippets of a Latino culture that shaped them in an effort to preserve those traditions like their parents had done for them with their European values.
Having spent my formative years in Ireland, where the headline question always seemed to be, “Where are you really from?” As a kid, I lacked the vocabulary to express that I was culturally ambiguous.
It was a haunting refrain that echoed throughout my teenage years. To avoid awkward follow-up questions, I embraced my Spanish identity, which became a double-edged sword; while I found comfort in it, I couldn’t shake the gut-wrenching feeling that I was denying the German and Venezuelan aspects of my upbringing. I was given a multitude of cultures, languages and, of course, delicious food, yet I was flooded with shame for being different.
I have taken comfort in seeing diverse creators share their experiences and the meaning DeBÍ TiRAR MáS FOToS have taken for them. London-based content creator SHELEN shared to TikTok a video of her interpretation of “BAILE INoLVIDABLE” and how she had been “crying all day to the Bad Bunny album” but emphasised that for different reasons to everyone else, as a London-born and Afro-Latina with a complicated relationship with the Latino community.
I could deeply relate to her emotional reaction to the album and her frustration, especially her experiences of meeting other Colombians who would remark, “Oh, you are Colombian! Speak Spanish! Who do you know? I’d get put through an exam.”
The reality is that you need to be the perfect immigrant, be born in the country, know the language fluently and adhere to an image of what a “real” native must look like.
Shelen concludes the video by sharing how the song triggered her in the best way possible, “I don’t want to let the bad seeds of the community tarnish how I see myself and how I see my culture and my heritage and stop myself from subconsciously enjoying my culture and who I am because of anger I have towards ignorance.” There is a need to “prove” ourselves as diaspora kids to be accepted. We are often labelled whichever is convenient to those questioning our identity. Frankly, it is complete nonsense and exhausting, often leading us to distance ourselves from our communities.
To quote the chorus of “BAILE INoLVIDABLE” where Benito (Bad Bunny) reminds us, “No, I cannot forget, no I cannot erase you, you taught me how to love, and you taught me how to dance.”
There is something unique yet universal about the message, and it perfectly embodies my feelings towards my heritage. I will never be able to forget or erase it, and trust me, at times, I have tried and failed.
I was loved through these cultures, and they have shaped me, quite literally, my Spanish and Venezuelan traditions taught me how to dance. To me, the album is a tender hug, a reminder that I belong to all my cultural spaces and I am allowed to embrace and celebrate them.