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The Dartmouth
April 9, 2025 | Latest Issue
The Dartmouth

Review: ‘DeBí TiRAR MáS FOToS’ brings us all home

Bad Bunny’s latest album “DeBí TiRAR MáS FOToS” is a heartfelt tribute to Puerto Rico, inviting listeners to reconnect with their roots — wherever they may be.

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“Since when do you listen to Bad Bunny?” 

That is what my friend texted after I sent her a link to the track “DtMF.” It’s true — I don’t typically listen to music in Spanish or by Bad Bunny (Benito Martínez Ocasio), who I’ll refer to as Ocasio moving forward. At the same time, the more I catch myself hesitating to speak Spanish, the more I recognize how far I have strayed from my Mexican heritage. I am realizing that it is high time to reconnect with the Spanish language and Latin American culture before it slips completely out of reach. “DeBí TiRAR MáS FOToS” has become a guide for me on this journey, with its central message of pride in one’s history. 

Overall, “DeBí TiRAR MáS FOToS” is a love letter to Ocasio’s Puerto Rican identity, ripe with political commentary and an undeniable joy for life. Addressing the approximately one million Puerto Ricans living in New York City, the opening track “NUEVAYol” speaks to the diaspora before taking listeners on a trip to Puerto Rico with the second track “VOY A LLeVARTE PA PR.” 

Several of DTmF’s tracks engage either directly or metaphorically with political themes such as gentrification, immigration and neocolonialism. In an interview with The New York Times, Ocasio shared that there are political lyrics in the album that might not appear political at first glance. 

For instance, he said while the song “BOKeTE” is about a relationship that grows distant — with Ocasio avoiding his former lover like a “pothole” — it is also an allusion to the boquetes, or potholes, marring the streets of Puerto Rico. Through this imagery, Ocasio criticizes the deteriorating infrastructure and neglect for communities beyond tourist hubs on the island. 

With confirmation of Ocasio’s intentionally ambiguous lyrics, I feel sound in my interpretation of “BAILE INoLVIDABLE” as a song about both heartbreak and immigration. In the song, Ocasio reflects on a fantasy of growing old with his former lover only to face the painful reality of ending the relationship. He thanks his lover for teaching him to love and dance, claiming it would be impossible to forget or erase them. Now, reread that last sentence replacing the word lover with native country. Faced with a dire economic crisis, violence associated with cartels and the punishment of political dissent, many Latin Americans have been forced to escape their homelands. In “BAILE INoLVIDABLE,” Ocasio sings of a life that might have been — one that exists in a world untouched by colonialism and its legacies. Amid these heavy subjects, Ocasio finds beauty and joy in the influence a former lover or native country can leave on a person. Specifically, he sings that the traditions of dance and love can transcend both heartbreak and borders, leaving an indelible mark on a person’s memory.

In order to fully engage with the album, it requires multiple listens. Initially, when I heard “TURiSTA,” I missed its multi-layered message, despite the fact that I was listening on repeat. Ocasio recounts the story of a one-sided relationship in which he entertained and supported a partner who could not — more specifically, did not care to — understand him or the struggles he faced. Fresh out of a breakup myself, the lyrics spoke to me as a raw portrayal of unreciprocated care and careless consumption. Lost in my personal drama, I missed Ocasio’s reference to literal tourists that visit Puerto Rico and consume its beauty, only to leave the country unrecognizable to its inhabitants. The track blurs the boundaries between the personal and the political, criticizing the exploitative tendencies of those who take without giving back.

The track “LO QUE LE PASO A HAWAII” features even more overt political commentary. Ocasio calls on his fellow Puerto Ricans to hold on tightly to their flag, and by extension heritage, lest their island be overtaken and transformed for profit. The parallels between the two islands, Puerto Rico and Hawaii, are striking considering their ties to the United States as territories — Hawaii now being a state. For decades, native Hawaiians have cited tourism as a force that drives up living costs, forcing them to leave the land and destroying their way of life. In the outro of “LA MuDANZA,” the final track, Ocasio sings “De aquí nadie me saca, de aquí yo no me muevo / Dile que esta es mi casa donde nació mi abuelo,” proclaiming that he will never leave his homeland.

Despite the heavy topics that Ocasio tackles in the album, reggaeton and salsa sounds keep listeners on their feet and dancing through his loaded lyrics. I first listened to the album on its release day, Jan. 5, with my roommate. She said “NUEVAYoL” was the perfect soundtrack for Sunday morning cleaning. We laughed, realizing it was in fact Sunday morning, and we were actually cleaning. I realized then that I recognized these rhythms from childhood mornings spent with my mom’s music and the smell of Fabuloso filling the air. 

The track “WELTiTA” also evoked childhood memories of my mom’s fond habit of adding “-ita” to my name. While “welta” means stroll, “WELTiTA,” as the diminutive form, most closely means “little stroll.” Mexican Spanish, especially, has a tendency to add the diminutive suffix -ito or -ita as a form of endearment. The song incorporates the diminutive suffixes to add affection and warmth to the love song. Beach becomes “playita,” face is “carita,” kiss is “besito,” heart is “corazoncito” and eyes are “ojitos.” 

Blending familiar rhythms with unexpected politically heavy lyricism, Ocasio crafts a love letter to Puerto Rico and a criticism of the systems that threaten it. The album exudes joy and cultural pride, inviting listeners to reflect on their own heritage. With every relisten, the album offers me a new way to reconnect with and reimagine my Mexican roots even while living in the United States. 

Ultimately, “DeBí TiRAR MáS FOToS” has a deeply personal yet universal message: you can always come home: “PR se siente cerquita.”

Rating: ★★★★★


Arizbeth Rojas

Arizbeth Rojas ’25 is a managing editor of the 181st directorate from Dallas, TX. When she’s not listening to DJ Sabrina the Teenage DJ or planning her next half marathon, you can find her munching on a lox bagel.