Music

Don Omar goes straight out club in this remake of “Qué le pasa a Lupita,” with Lil Jon tossing out phrases in English over big horns reminiscent of “Livin la Vida Loca” (really). Although done, it’s fun and has the potential to become a massive dance hit.

A true collab where all three artists are meshed for the duration of the track, “Soy Yo” incorporates three very different styles and vocals into a cohesive whole. Set to a fast clip reggaetón/merengue beat with accordion lacings, this is a standout party track.

What begins as pop/reggaetón evolves into a saucy Mexican-style cumbia. Although the melodic chorus of “Cuestión” (Ahora, no dejes que pasen las horas) is immediately catchy, what we like most is bass driving the cumbia beat for added humph and the shifts in arrangement, with accordions, keyboards and electric guitars coming in and out.

Wait, is Don Omar doing pop? He is, but this is pop that gets down and dirty. A mix of vallenato accordion, reggaetón beats and Maluma, who has an outsized presence (in a good way) in this song. “Magdalena” is punctuated by rhythmic breaks that would work marvels in a Zumba class.

With the flute as an unexpected guest, “Cariñito” evokes Carlos Vives’ tropical fusion of vallenato and invites you to the dance floor. It’s a softer, gentler side of Don Omar albeit a tad repetitive to be among our faves.

A bona fide ballad set over a gentle reggaetón beat, “Sincero” is a lovelorn love song dedicated to the one who got away. Don Omar pulls it off without falling into corny territory, allowing just the right dose of pathos to creep into his exposed vocals. “This song tells the story of a man who is vulnerable when he loses his partner, and she does not give him hope to come back,” the Puerto Rican artist said in a statement. “When one goes through a situation of heartbreak, it is when we are most sensitive, and we do not mind openly showing our feelings to let that person know how much we need them.” Don Omar also includes trap and salsa versions, a smart move, as many fans will no doubt favor these two renderings over the original.

The second of García’s appearances is more traditional, but no less fun. From a slow intro, it goes into a 4/4 merengue that then enters a double time beat as Don Omar and García trade verses over the woman they’re crazy about.

It takes a full seven tracks to get to some hard core reggaetón in Don Omar and Cosculleula’s first ever collab, a well-crafted mix of braggadaccio and diss set over drama-filled chords and heavy beats. Trading lines like “Tu vas a ser mejor que yo cuando venga Cristo (you’ll be better than me when Christ comes)” and “Sigo siendo más calle que tu sin contar las hazañas (I’m more street than you without bragging about my feats)”  the two opened the door to much speculation as to who the song was aiming at. For those who don’t care, there’s plenty of rhyming skills to keep you entertained.

Former Plan B member Chencho Corleone’s nasal vocals are the pairing du jour for reggaetón’s biggest stars. In “Podemos repetirlo” with Don Omar, he’s catchy and elastic, and grabs you like chewing gum. The end result is a reliably fun and hummable hit, even if it doesn’t tread new ground.

A mix of dance club and piano-punctuated merengue, “Good Girl” doesn’t overthink Akon’s collaboration, and that nonchalance is part of its success. Akon sings the repetitive chorus in English, which allows him to sound relaxed over the merengue beat, while Don Omar comes in for interludes. It all comes together in a neat, ethereal fashion.

Set over a repeating piano motif, “Agradecido” is Don Omar’s extremely personal anthem of thankfulness; a heartfelt letter of gratitude that leans into religiousness but never quite goes there. Instead, Don Omar the thoughtful, persuasive lyricist shows up with lines like “Agradecido porque mi vida tiene sentido. Agradecido porque hay luz en todo lo que digo, si. Agradecido (Thankful because make life has meaning; thankful because there’s light in everything I say. Yes, thankful).” There’s something for everyone here. Perhaps sometimes too obvious, but nevertheless compelling, and also, for an artist in a genre of superlatives, a welcome breath, both for reggaeton and for Don Omar himself.

Don Omar delivers two versions of a song co-written with Nío García. The remix, featuring García himself, isn’t a major departure save for the exchange of vocals, which still live atop a pulsating, crunchy reggaetón beat. García’s higher tenor contrasts well with Don Omar’s lower bass and provides an added sonic texture that further highlights lyrics that engage in some rare role reversal: Here, the guys are the ones chastising the girl for her ill-conceived relationship. The coda, featuring both singers trading verses over a piano riff is an unexpected and welcome touch.

It’s so delicious to listen to Residente rhyme, and even more so over minimalistic beats. This, his first-ever collab with Don Omar, kicks off as a gritty ode to Puerto Rico, to its streets, to its slang, to its food, with the black and white video adding starkness. It’s not pretty stuff but it begs to be watched. When Don Omar comes in with his more textured raps, he dedicates his fare to the misfits, the unseens, the marginalized. It’s powerful and danceable and irresistible all at once.

A variation on a Cuban danzón, “Carcelero” may be Don Omar’s new magnus opus. Richly textured and orchestrated, it launches with Don Omar –his vocals raspy and emotional—contrasting over over piano, strings and lilting percussion. The effect is beautiful but harsh : “Damn you, damn me,” sings the reggaetón star, and one can almost picture the video (which will be filmed soon).  “Carcelero” eventually dissovles into a salsa, complete with an improvisational soneo at the end. Don Omar delivers.