Benito

This year promises to be one of the most exciting editions of the Latin Grammys.

As the Latin Recording Academy prepares to unveil the nominations for the award’s 26th edition on Sept. 17, the eligibility period — from June 1, 2024 to May 31, 2025 — includes a number of high-profile albums that not only contributed to the ongoing Latin music boom on a global level, but also pushed the movement forward with their radical choices and genre-defying sounds.

Now a vital part of the Latin pop DNA, the urbano genre continues to redefine and challenge itself, while the rootsy strains of música Mexicana have deservedly gained a privileged seat on the table like never before. The fields of folk, rock, electronica and tropical are still expanding, and artists such as Bad Bunny, Rauw Alejandro, Becky G, Fuerza Regida and Natalia Lafourcade are vying for awards with some of the most ambitious albums of their careers.

De Los assistant editor Suzy Exposito and contributing writer Ernesto Lechner discuss their predictions on the songs and albums that are most likely to be nominated. The following conversation has been edited for length.

Ernesto Lechner: This seems to be an easy year in terms of the two obvious candidates for Latin Gammy history. Bad Bunny’s “Debí Tirar Más Fotos” is the kind of album that defines not only the year it came out — 2025 — but also the entire decade. And Natalia Lafourcade’s mystically tinged “Cancionera” finds the perennial Grammy favorite at the apex of her craft. Going back to Benito’s masterpiece, its conceptual gravitas is almost grander than the songs themselves.

Suzy Exposito: I’m really gunning for Album of the Year for this one. The amount of thought and intention that he placed on this record. The cultural significance of the songs, not just in terms of the history of Puerto Rico, but the way in which he directly engages with the Caribbean diaspora at large through salsa.

E.L.: I love how lovingly he delves beyond salsa to also include plena. He goes back to Rafael Cortijo — the roots, the very essence of boricua culture. And the album has this Beatles-like quality where it’s incredibly commercial — a No. 1 record, the album that everybody is listening to — but there’s no compromise on the artistic front. It’s an ambitious, fully realized statement.

S.E.: Is any album by Benito just another Bad Bunny album? I don’t think he dabbles in filler the way other artists do.

E.L.: The photo of the plastic chairs on the cover could have been taken in the suburbs of Lima, or San Salvador, or Medellín. Benito makes such an inclusive, pan-Latin statement. Which brings me to nominate the title track, “Debí Tirar Mas Fotos,” as a perfect contender for Song of the Year.

S.E.: When I first heard it, I started to cry. It’s a very sentimental song. I was recently in Puerto Rico and went to a plena jam session. It was happening in the street, and you could see people of all ages playing together, singing traditional songs, drinks in hand. There was something really beautiful and timeless about that communal experience.

E.L.: A similar passion for music permeates Lafourcade’s “Cancionera.” Recorded live on analog tape, it has a pristine, wooden-floor kind of warmth. She embodies this mystical character, the cancionera, and it’s a very mature album. I love “Cocos en la Playa” — a frisky, beautiful tropical song that’s so lovely and authentic. For my money, it’s going to be a battle between those two albums in all the major categories.

S.E.: I feel that Natalia Lafourcade is the conservative choice at the Latin Gammys, and it feels bizarre to say it. This is a woman who was making pop-rock in the 2000s. She is a virtuosa, and a master of her craft, but her nomination is predictable because now she represents the gold standard for the Latin Academy.

E.L.: She’s definitely the safest choice between the two. Besides Benito and Natalia, there are a few albums that could very well appear in the major categories, and one of them is Cazzu’s “Latinaje.”

S.E.: That album is such a statement piece. I loved seeing Cazzu break away from the Latin trap sound that she defined and blending it with other things. She’s a great songwriter, and her transformation is fascinating. I think this is the year when many young people are going back to their roots, and then making something new out of it.

E.L.: I had a conversation with Cazzu a few months ago and told her that “Latinaje” made me feel vindicated. As a fellow Argentine, I’ve always felt that we’re an integral part of Latin America. She proved it with this beautiful love letter to so many essential genres. There’s salsa, merengue, South American folk, and “Dolce,” a gorgeous corrido tumbado about that infamous red dress that went viral. And she did it all so genuinely.

S.E.: It may be hard for her, because she came up as an MC. I wonder if the Latin Academy will know in what categories to place her, since this is such a multi-genre album. I mean, she’s an international girl.

E.L.: And of course, Rubén Blades has a new album out, and it’s beautiful as always. “Fotografías” is another sumptuous, big band salsa session. It combines new compositions with songs that Rubén had given to fellow Fania artists in the ‘70s, and now recorded them himself.

S.E.: That’s a great move on his part. “Hey, remember those songs? Yeah — I wrote them!” It sounds ridiculous to say that Rubén is another safe choice, but I can see him in all the big categories. Which brings me to another artist who made a salsa-influenced album: Rauw Alejandro and “Cosa Nuestra.”

E.L.: I love the Afro-Caribbean vibe on “Cosa Nuestra” and the silky duet with bachata star Romeo Santos on “Khé?” I feel this one has been overshadowed a little by Benito’s “Debí Tirar Más Fotos.” My favorite Rauw Alejandro album remains 2021’s “Vice Versa” with the awesome, ‘80s influenced mega-hit “Todo De Ti.”

S.E.: My favorite song on “Cosa Nuestra” is “Se Fue,” the duet with Laura Pausini, which is also like a moody ‘80s song. Raúl has made it a point to polish up his nostalgia for old forms of music. Michael Jackson is one of his most influential artists.

By the way, we should mention Fuerza Regida and their ninth studio album, “111XPANTIA.” They have never been nominated for a Latin Grammy, so I’m rooting for them because they have experimented in a really bold way. Their lead singer, Jesús Ortiz Paz, has shown a lot of intention behind his creative decisions beyond making the same corridos or mining from the same old ‘90s rappers. Their music is cheeky; sonically, it pushes boundaries.

E.L.: You’re never gonna have a bad time with this new wave of música Mexicana stars, considering the staggering melodic richness of their songs and the immediacy of the lyrics.

S.E.: On that note, I think it’s time for Ivan Cornejo to get a Latin Grammy nod for “Mirada” — the production has this ethereal quality that sounds so mature and progressive for the genre. I also want to applaud DannyLux for his ambitious “Leyenda,” which is a psychedelic take on sierreño music, à la George Harrison.

E.L.: What about Becky G? Last year I was asked to write about “Encuentros,” and I just had to surrender to the elegance of this pristine música Mexicana session. Her voice sounds huge on this record.

S.E.: I really hope they don’t silo her in the música Mexicana categories, because this is a very mature album for her. She grew up singing mariachi music with her family, so it’s a beautiful full circle moment for her.

E.L.: “Encuentros” would be a perfect Album of the Year candidate because it celebrates the music of her grandparents but at the same time transcends it. I love that Becky said she’s never looking back after recording her two traditional albums of rancheras and lush Mexican pop.

This brings me to a more general observation: I believe we’re experiencing an era of absolute splendor, and the Latin Grammys nominations are bound to reflect that. It’s like every single Latin American country has blossomed, wearing its most elegant clothes and throwing some amazing parties. The richness and breadth of the music being recorded throughout the continent is off the charts.

S.E.: I agree. Creatively, the last couple of years have been the most exciting for Latin music in a really long time. I think we’re going to remember the 2020s for the bold decade that it is.

A young woman emerged from the dark into a green and bushy clearing. Under the faux moonlight, she wandered the stage, speaking to herself. “Where’s my camera? I can’t believe I lost it. All my memories were there,” she said with a pang of panic in her voice.

Moments later, a young man surfaced from the same spot. His eyes scanned the area as well, with a pained look on his face. “Have you seen my drums?” When he plays his drums his heart races, he explained; his people feel joy, and the living, the dead and even the stars dance. “It’s like all our memories are there too,” he said.

With this poignant intro, Bad Bunny kicked off the “locals only” opening night of his 30-show residency in San Juan — which, for the first three weekends, will only be accessible to those who can show proof of their residence in Puerto Rico.

Taking place each weekend at the José Miguel Agrelot Coliseum, affectionately referred to as El Choli by locals, the concert series revolves around his latest album, “Debí Tirar Más Fotos,” and was advertised with name “No me quiero ir de aquí,” which translates to “I don’t want to leave here.” It’s a refrain that’s been associated with the artist since he used it as a lyric in his 2022 ode to his homeland, “El Apagón,” and he considers it still resonant today.

A celebration of Puerto Rican identity, a fighting spirit shaped indelibly by its music and history, “Debí Tirar Más Fotos” also urges its listeners that time is not to be taken for granted, and the past, present and future are not just distinct phases but one whole, inextricably tied together.

(Lorenzo Lagares/For Los Angeles Times)

Fans that flocked to the opening weekend concerts were treated to Benito at the apex of his talents, not to mention his stamina. For three hours and over 35 songs, he danced, strutted and sang to the approving roar of over 15,000 in attendance. The show opened with rumbles of bomba y plena, and an unreleased track that got the crowd buzzing — followed by popular recent bangers like “Ketu Tecré,” “El Clúb” and “Pitorro de Coco.” He then regaled the crowd with a catwalk performance of “Kloufrens” and “Weltita,” which featured an appearance by Chuwi, the beloved tropical jazz quartet from Isabela.

The two stages were grandiose, both in size and production quality. The main stage was a reproduction of a hill, made to approximate the lush foliage found in Puerto Rico’s rainforest and central hillside towns. On one side, you could spy the two iconic Monobloc chairs from the album’s cover, and on the other, a flamboyán tree blossoming with red flowers. On the opposite end of the coliseum’s arena was a pristine pink vacation home, built to mirror the one from the short film that debuted along with the album.

That film introduced the characters of Old Man, played by acclaimed Puerto Rican filmmaker Jacobo Morales, and Concho, the sweet-natured Puerto Rican crested toad voiced by Kenneth Canales, which was brought to life by the stop-motion work of Quique Rivera. The two unlikely housemates returned in two new vignettes shown at the concert, in which they live in a cabin in the middle of snowy woods. Concho misses the Caribbean warmth, and feels very far away from home. A kind Morales reminds him: “We’re Puerto Rican no matter where we are, and even from afar we defend what’s ours.”

Remember, he says while looking straight at the camera, Puerto Rico is “the real calentón.” This cued a barrage of images that flashed across the screen, showing photos of historic protests and civil disobedience carried out over the decades by revolutionary Puerto Ricans.

(Lorenzo Lagares/For Los Angeles Times)

Benito reappeared under the flamboyán tree, where he was joined by guitarist Antonio Caraballo. Here, we got some of his lovelorn “Sad Bunny” persona as they reinterpreted acoustic versions of older hits like “Si Estuviésemos Juntos,” “Ni Bien Ni Mal” and “Amorfoda” before ending with “Turista.” All the while, Benito waxed philosophically to the audience, commiserating about matters of the heart.

From here, the action swiftly moved from the countryside to the pink house which suddenly filled with dancers in club wear — and Benito’s longtime tour DJ Orma. Those craving a rowdy perreo party got their wish, as his salsa-dembow hybrid track “Nuevayol” launched a 16-song stretch of frenzied, sweaty reggaeton and trap bops. Bouncing feverishly from “Titi Me Preguntó” and “La Jumpa” to “Yo Perreo Sola” and “Efecto,” Benito transformed the coliseum into a nightclub.

Among the guests that night were none other than basketball legend LeBron James, Golden State champion Draymond Green and UnitedMasters CEO (and one of the most influential men in Black culture and business) Steve Stoute.

James and Benito have a friendship going back several years, and it’s hard to blame the superstar for wanting to hang with his pal — even if said pal is an American — during a concert by an artist who is not really vibing with the United States right now. But then again, if the home we see on stage is supposed to represent an Airbnb owned by non-Puerto Ricans — which is what was narratively implied — Benito might as well flex and bring in some elite gringos. Chants of “MVP! MVP!” rang out at one point, provoking the four-time NBA champion to throw up a hand heart gesture to the crowd. It’s all love.

That being said: “LeBron James sat on an air conditioner and danced while Bad Bunny sang ‘Safaera’” is a ridiculous Mad Libs sentence that actually happened.

As he paced from side to side on the house’s rooftop, Benito would again touch on the topic of time. “You get so caught up in the euphoria of the moment that you forget to appreciate the present,” he said. He asked the crowd to put their phones away and focus on the next song, and on whoever is accompanying them, or even someone across the aisle who has caught their eye. “This is the moment to act,” he added, and ask them for a dance, just before the thrust of “Eoo,” made famous from his sensual Calvin Klein underwear ad, got the whole building quaking.

Puerto Rican plena ensemble Los Pleneros de la Cresta appeared to interpret “Café Con Ron,” as well as one of their own songs, “Ábreme Paso,” which gave way to a second video vignette. It showed Morales’ Old Man leaving the cabin and trudging through a snowstorm, until he ran into Benito’s musical director Julito Gastón — the young man from the opening skit — sitting behind his drum. As they lock eyes, Morales leaves him with a word of advice that’s not just about the music, but the core of his being: “Never stop playing your drums.”

(Lorenzo Lagares/For Los Angeles Times)

Bad Bunny resurfaced, looking a bit more subdued. He spoke softly, but sternly, about Puerto Rico and its struggle against gentrification and government neglect. “We have to protect this land,” he said. “We have to protect what’s ours if we want our children to make a life here.” He followed it up by crooning “Lo Que Le Pasó A Hawaii,” the solemn décima all about how the archipelago is being threatened existentially.

An animated crash course in salsa history, narrated by Néstor Galán, set the scene for Benito’s touring live band, Los Sobrinos to assemble. Dressed in a vintage ‘70s garb of a Fania bandleader, Benito led the group into the last and most rousing part of the concert: a salsa reimagining of “Callaíta,” which gave way to to “Baile Inolvidable” and “Dtmf.” The crowd leapt to their feet, twirling and stepping to the rhythms.

Before he launched into the opening freestyle of “La Mudanza” he paused to gather himself; he took off his sunglasses to reveal his eyes had welled up with tears and gratefulness. As the image of a giant Puerto Rican flag graced the ceiling, he motioned for everyone to sing and scream the final lyrics in unison: “Nobody’s taking me from here, I’m not moving anywhere, tell ‘em this is my home, where my grandfather was born, I’m from P f—in’ R!”

In the lead-up to last year’s gubernatorial elections, Bad Bunny spent hundreds of thousands of his own money buying ad space on billboards across Puerto Rico urging its citizens to not vote for the ruling party, accusing them of being the main culprits of the island’s woes. The ads consisted of a simple, white text on a black background. In the end, the same party that has led since 2017 won reelection; and since then, the current governor, Republican Party member Jenniffer González-Colón, has only continued to be mired in controversy.

When entering the concert area, the large screens over the main stage showed one message with white letters on a black background: “Yo Te Lo Dije,” or “I Told You So.” When the show was over and everyone began to trickle out, a new message appeared, recognizable to all: “No Me Quiero Ir De Aquí.”

With his residency, Bad Bunny issues a rallying cry for Puerto Ricans: Act now. Change the future, so that you don’t regret the past. And most importantly, never stop playing your drums.

In “Overcompensating,” Prime Video’s newly released comedy series, everyone is doing too much. That’s what Benito Skinner, the creator and star of the A24-produced show, experienced in college in the mid-2010s, and why it felt like a perfect backdrop to tell a heightened version of his own coming out story.

“Overcompensating” centers around Benny (played by Skinner), a closeted former high school football player turned college frat bro who spends too much energy posing as a straight guy by lowering his voice and keeping his love for Lorde’s songwriting in check. That’s the case even, or especially, when he’s greeted by “The Alliance of Gay People and Lesbians and Bisexual People and Asexuals too even” as he makes his way around campus.

But Skinner knew there was plenty of narrative potential in focusing on the thorny relationship Benny strikes up with Carmen, a girl who ends up being both his beard and his BFF. Only in this telling, Carmen, played by Wally Baram, isn’t just a supporting player in Benny’s path toward self-acceptance.

“Naturally that story and getting to college, it’s this coming of age thing,” Skinner says. “And for so many gay people, it’s meeting these girlfriends who are creating these safe spaces — all the while they have their own s— going on. What was so interesting to me is thinking how I’m going through this whole journey inside. But so is she. She is having this whole other experience too.”

Benny (Benito Skinner) and Carmen (Wally Baram) in “Overcompensating.”

(Sabrina Lantos / Prime Video)

Baram says when she read the show’s pilot episode, she instantly understood where the character was coming from.

“I got the script, and within the first three pages, there’s this character — this frizzy, curly haired girl who’s kind of awkward and just can’t do the same thing that everyone else is doing,” Baram recalls. “And who, over the course of the script, is overcompensating with love. That was just so me for a really large chunk of my life, frankly.”

After meeting at orientation — and bonding over the need to ignore the kid who insists on telling everyone he’s Amanda Knox’s cousin — Benny and Carmen fumble through a performed kind of meet-cute. Wishing to do away with his sexual urges for cute boys on campus and hoping to avoid becoming a campus pariah if he doesn’t sleep with a girl on his first day at school, Benny pursues Carmen.

Over the course of the eight-episode season of “Overcompensating,” their freshman situationship quickly gets more and more complicated. Carmen is clueless at first about why things aren’t clicking with Benny in the bedroom (or more like the dorm room). And the root of the issue can be difficult for her to discern.

“It’s like, how could you not know he was gay? But in these relationships I’ve had with women, there was so much confusion and miscommunication through sad dishonesty,” he says. “The Carmen character was so fun to write because this girl is experiencing this on the other side being like, ‘What the f— is wrong with this guy?’ I found that for women, gay was the last thing on their list of things why these relationships weren’t working. And I’m like, ‘No, babe, that’s No. 1.’ You did nothing wrong.”

Benito Skinner on writing the relationship between his character and Carmen: “I found that for women, gay was the last thing on their list of things why these relationships weren’t working. And I’m like, ‘No, babe, that’s No. 1.’ You did nothing wrong.”

(Dutch Doscher / For The Times)

Finding the right actress to nail Carmen’s charming awkwardness was a challenge. Like Benny, Carmen is trying to start anew and fit in at the fictional Yates University. She’s often pushing herself to perform whatever normalcy looks like for a college freshman.

Carmen doesn’t nail collegespeak — “Here’s to a night we’ll never remember with the friends we’ll never forgive,” she captions her first selfie with Benny — but she’s skilled at beer pong, first-person shooters and chugging drinks like the frat boys on campus. More importantly, she is sweet and attentive, the kind of tender girlfriend a closeted boy like Benny would naturally gravitate toward.

At the suggestion of A24 producer Alli Reich, Skinner watched Baram’s 2021 set on “The Late Show with Stephen Colbert.” There, the young comedian, who’s Mexican and Syrian (“or as Fox News would call me, a ‘very lazy terrorist,’” she joked), poked fun at how she’s struggling with adulthood, especially since her body felt both childlike and grown-up at the same time. “I’m 5’2”, I have a baby face, but I’ve [got] boobs and the voice of like an eighth grade Jewish boy,” she deadpanned in the set.

“I had sat with this character for four and a half, five years,” Skinner recalls. “And I watched this video, and it was this very surreal moment. She was exactly what I had in my head for Carmen. I was like, ‘OK, well, it’s her.’”

Baram’s winsome self-deprecation felt like a perfect match for the cast of this off-kilter comedy Skinner was assembling.

“When we met in person, I felt like I had little maracas out,” Baram jokes. “The energy in that room was just like, ‘Oh, hello!’ Like when two dogs meet, and their tails go up.”

“It was so two chihuahuas meet, finally,” Skinner adds.

“When we met in person, I felt like I had little maracas out,” Wally Baram says about Benito Skinner.

(Dutch Doscher / For The Times)

“Overcompensating” hinges on their crackling chemistry. But as the season unfolds, the series becomes more and more of an ensemble piece. As Benny navigates his first semester at Yates, we spend more time with his sullen sister, Grace (Mary Beth Barone); her douchey frat boyfriend, Peter (Adam DiMarco); Benny’s swoon-worthy crush, Miles (Rish Shah) and Carmen’s brassy, sassy roommate Hailee (Holmes).

Together, they create a vision of college life that will make millennials cringe in recognition. The pilot, after all, opens with Britney Spears’ “Lucky” and the foundational queer film “George of the Jungle,” starring a chiseled, loin-clothed Brendan Fraser. But it’s the needle drops throughout the show that best capture that generation and moment in time. Charli XCX may get the spotlight treatment — she guest stars as herself in Episode 4 — but the deployment of a My Chemical Romance song in a later episode made the cast realize just how wounding and specific the writing on the show could be.

“I read ‘Welcome to the Black Parade’ and it sent a chill down my spine because I thought that was private to me, alone in my room,” Baram says. “And then you put it in there and I was like, ‘OK, so we all had that moment,’ which is both good and also, wow, my plight is not special.”

“That is so true that it felt private to all of us,” Skinner adds. “Because that was also something with Mary Beth, too. When we were talking about that song, she’s like, ‘I feel this in my bones, maybe in a good and a really mortifying way.’ I hope it has a resurgence. I do think Gen Z will really enjoy that song. It feels very them.”

Barone’s cringey karaoke rendition of that emo 2006 banger resonates because it captures the joy (and embarrassment) that comes from being unabashedly oneself — something every character in “Overcompensating” grapples with to varying degrees of success.

“Overcompensating” hinges on the chemistry between Wally Baram and Benito Skinner.

(Dutch Doscher / For The Times)

Skinner’s comedy excels at capturing those crippling feelings of inadequacy — whether you’re a closeted dude rushing a frat, a secretly emo girl trying to please her boyfriend or a shy freshman figuring out who she could be away from home.

“Some of these people that come into college where they’re like, ‘I’m gonna do me no matter what, and I’m coming in here like a bat out of hell’ — I felt so in awe watching them,” Skinner says. “I was like, ‘This is so incredible that you can do this.’ Meanwhile I feel so confident in one room and in the next room I’m like, ‘Oh my God, I should not be here.’”

That’s precisely what Baram keyed into when bringing Carmen to life, as well as listening to “Truth Hurts” by Lizzo to get into character.

“Because it reminds me of a time in my life in which I thought I was conquering the social. I was going to a party, and I thought that I was gonna, you know, get down and dirty,” she says. “But really, I was a disingenuous version of myself, and ultimately ended up feeling unrewarded at the end, no matter what I did, whether I had a successful social interaction or I failed miserably.”

“Overcompensating” broadens concepts that are central to the queer experience — like the closet and found families — and places them at the heart of the modern college experience. And, in between jokes about pink eye, Grindr dates gone wrong and a pitch perfect takedown of college improv, the series makes a heartfelt case for how to make the best out of those formative years.

“To do it right, I think, is the Benny and Carmen way,” Skinner says. “It’s finding the person that doesn’t make you feel like you have to be so inconsistent with who you are and the things you actually want to do. For me it’s like, you’re bad at overcompensating when you’re with the right person.”