Latino

When Fernando Mendoza won the Heisman Trophy this weekend with another Latino finalist looking on from the crowd, the Cuban-American quarterback did more than just become the first Indiana Hoosier to win college football’s top prize, and only the third Latino to do so. He also subtly offered a radical statement: Latinos don’t just belong in this country, they’re essential.

At a time when questions swirl around this country‘s largest minority group that cast us in a demeaning, tokenized light — how could so many of us vote for Trump in 2024? Why don’t we assimilate faster? Why does Supreme Court justice Brett Kavanaugh think it’s OK for immigration agents to racially profile us? — the fact that two of the best college football players in the country this year were Latino quarterbacks didn’t draw the headlines they would’ve a generation ago. That’s because we now live in an era where Latinos are part of the fabric of sports in the United States like never before.

That’s the untold thesis of four great books I read this year. Each is anchored in Latino pride but treat their subjects not just as sport curios and pioneers but great athletes who were and are fundamental not just to their professions and community but society at large.

Shea Serrano writing about anything is like a really great big burrito — you know it’s going to be great and it exceeds your expectations when you finally bite into it, you swear you’re not going to gorge the thing all at once but don’t regret anything when you inevitably do. He could write about concrete and this would be true, but his latest New York Times bestseller (four in total, which probably makes him the only Mexican American author with that distinction) thankfully is instead about his favorite sport.

“Expensive Basketball” finds Serrano at his best, a mix of humblebrag, rambles and hilarity (of Rasheed Wallace, the lifelong San Antonio Spurs fan wrote the all-star forward “would collect technical fouls with the same enthusiasm and determination little kids collect Pokémon cards with.”) The proud Tejano’s mix of styles — straight essays, listicles, repeated phrases or words trotted out like incantations, copious footnotes — ensures he always keeps the reader guessing.

But his genius is in noting things no one else possibly can. Who else would’ve crowned journeyman power forward Gordon Hayward the fall guy in Kobe Bryant’s final game, the one where he scored 60 points and led the Lakers to a thrilling fourth-quarter comeback? Tied a Carlos Williams poem that a friend mistakenly texted to him to WNBA Hall of Famer Sue Bird? Reminded us that the hapless Charlotte Hornets — who haven’t made it into the playoffs in nearly a decade — were once considered so cool that two of their stars were featured in the original “Space Jam?” “Essential Basketball” is so good that you’ll swear you’ll only read a couple of Serrano’s essays and not regret the afternoon that will pass as quickly as a Nikola Jokic assist.

“Mexican American Baseball in the South Bay”

(Gustavo Arellano/Los Angeles Times)

I recommended “Mexican American Baseball in the South Bay” in my regular columna three years ago, so why am I plugging its second edition? For one, the audacity of its existence — how on earth can anyone justify turning a 450-page book on an unheralded section of Southern California into an 800-page one? But in an age when telling your story because no one else will or will do a terrible job at it is more important than ever, the contributors to this tome prove how true that is.

“Mexican American Baseball in the South Bay” is part of a long-running series about the history of Mexican American baseball in Southern California Latino communities. What’s so brilliant about this one is that it boldly asserts the history and stories of a community that too often get overlooked in Southern California Latino literature in favor of the Eastsides and Santa Anas of the region.

As series editor Richard A. Santillan noted, the reaction to the original South Bay book was so overwhelmingly positive that he and others in the Latino History Baseball Project decided to expand it. Well-written essays introduce each chapter; long captions for family and team photos function as yearbook entries. Especially valuable are newspaper clippings from La Opinión that showed the vibrancy of Southern Californians that never made it into the pages of the English-language press.

Maybe only people with ties to the South Bay will read this book cover to cover, and that’s understandable. But it’s also a challenge to all other Latino communities: if folks from Wilmington to Hermosa Beach to Compton can cover their sports history so thoroughly, why can’t the rest of us?

(University of Colorado Press)

One of the most surprising books I read this year was Jorge Iber’s “The Sanchez Family: Mexican American High School and Collegiate Wrestlers from Cheyenne, Wyoming,” a short read that addresses two topics rarely written about: Mexican American freestyle wrestlers and Mexican Americans in the Equality State. Despite its novelty, it’s the most imperfect of my four recommendations. Since it’s ostensibly an academic book, Iber loads the pages with citations and references to other academics to the point where it sometimes reads like a bibliography and one wonders why the author doesn’t focus more on his own work. And in one chapter, Iber refers to his own work in the first person — profe, you’re cool but you’re not Rickey Henderson.

“The Sanchez Family” overcomes these limitations by the force of its subject, whose protagonists descend from Guanajuato-born ancestors that arrived to Wyoming a century ago and established a multi-generational wrestling dynasty worthy of the far-more famous Guerrero clan. Iber documents how the success of multiple Sanchez men on the wrestling mat led to success in civic life and urges other scholars to examine how prep sports have long served as a springboard for Latinos to enter mainstream society — because nothing creates acceptance like winning.

“In our family, we have educators, engineers and other professions,” Iber quotes Gil Sanchez Sr. a member of the first generation of grapplers. “All because a 15-year-old boy [him]…decided to become a wrestler.”

Heard that boxing is a dying sport? The editors of “Rings of Dissent: Boxing and Performances of Rebellion” won’t have it. Rudy Mondragón, Gaye Theresa Johnson and David J. Leonard not only refuse to entertain that idea, they call such critiques “rooted in racist and classist mythology.”

(University of Illinois Press)

They then go on to offer an electric, eclectic collection of essays on the sweet science that showcases the sport as a metaphor for the struggles and triumphs of those that have practiced it for over 150 years in the United States. Unsurprisingly, California Latinos earn a starring role. Cal State Channel Islands professor José M. Alamillo digs up the case of two Mexican boxers denied entry in the United States during the 1930s, because of the racism of the times, digging up a letter to the Department of Labor that reads like a Stephen Miller rant: “California right now has a surplus of cheap boxers from Mexico, and something should be done to prevent the entry of others.”

Roberto José Andrade Franco retells the saga of Oscar De La Hoya versus Julio Cesar Chávez, landing less on the side of the former than pointing out the assimilationist façade of the Golden Boy. Mondragón talks about the political activism of Central Valley light welterweight José Carlos Ramírez both inside and outside the ring. Despite the verve and love each “Rings of Dissent” contributors have in their essays, they don’t romanticize it. No one is more clear-eyed about its beauty and sadness than Mondragón’s fellow Loyola Marymount Latino studies profe, Priscilla Leiva. She examines the role of boxing gyms in Los Angeles, focusing on three — Broadway Boxing Gym and City of Angels Boxing in South L.A, and the since-shuttered Barrio Boxing in El Sereno.

“Efforts to envision a different future for oneself, for one’s community, and for the city are not guaranteed unequivocal success,” she writes. “Rather, like the sport of boxing, dissent requires struggle.”

If those aren’t the wisest words for Latinos to embrace for the coming year, I’m not sure what is.

De Los recently did a team huddle to determine our personal list of best albums, as well as our favorite songs released in 2025. This is not another garden variety Latin genre list, but a highlight reel of 2025 releases that showcases artists from Latin America and the diaspora.

20. Selena Gomez and Benny Blanco feat. the Marías, “Ojos Tristes”
Released months before their highly-publicized wedding in September, “I Said I Love You First,” the album by multi-hyphenate superstar Selena Gomez and hit songwriter-producer Benny Blanco, was first conceived from nights spent perusing each other’s vintage record collections. Gomez resonated with the spectral 1982 ballad “El Muchacho de Los Ojos Tristes,” as originally recorded by the O.G. sad girl en español, Jeanette. After seeing the Marías in concert, the couple hit up the band to further maximize their joint slay — and revamp the classic as a bilingual dream-pop track, simply named “Ojos Tristes.” It not only topped the Billboard Hot Latin Songs chart, but it introduced a new generation to Jeanette’s timeless allure. —Suzy Exposito

19. JR Torres, “Desde Abajo Vengo”
It never fails: True to its ever reliable, unassuming ethos, the genre of música mexicana invariably delivers some of the year’s most gorgeous tunes. The melody on this two-minute single by Culiacán, Sinaloa, native JR Torres is a pearl of astounding purity, a theme developed alternately by the accordion and vocal line, and one that — like so many norteño hits — conveys an ocean of longing. The lyrics belong to the himnos de superación canon: a self-taught man outlines his road to success, paved with honesty, resilience and hard work. But it is the music itself that cements “Desde Abajo Vengo” as a Mexican classic for the ages. —Ernesto Lechner

18. Juana Rozas, “WANNA HOTEL”
Juana Rozas understands the emerging queer Latin underground, in all of its swirling genre hodgepodge, better than most. Her album “TANYA” is an unrestrained porteña whirlwind, rapidly shifting between industrial, electroclash, and doom metal, with all of these disparate influences coalescing on the highlight track “WANNA HOTEL.” The song splits the difference between atmospheric trap heaven and hardstyle hell, placing you squarely in a warehouse mosh pit. It’s vertigo-inducing sonic whiplash, complete with thumping techno and copious nose drugs. You can try to head to the hallways for a breather, but it feels better to be in the depths of Rozas’ debauchery. —Reanna Cruz

17. Macario Martinez, “Sueña Lindo, Corazón”
There isn’t a better feel-good story this year than Macario Martínez’s unexpected rise to fame. The Mexico City native and now former street sweeper went viral in January after uploading a TikTok video that showed him riding in the back of a sanitation truck at night. Soundtracking it is a snippet of “Sueña Lindo, Corazón,” a tender, stripped-down folk lullaby for a wounded heart. The clip included the following caption: “Life asks for a lot and I’m just a street sweeper who wants you to listen to his music.” Listen they did. The video has been viewed tens of millions of times and was shared by the likes of Harry Styles. turning Martínez into one of the most promising rising talents in Latin music. —Fidel Martinez

16. Dareyes de la Sierra, “Frecuencia”
The opening line of “Frecuencia” — “Yo sé que voy a morirme por eso bien loco vivo” (“I know I’m going to die, that’s why I live crazily”) — hits a little bit different once you learn that singer José Darey Castro survived an attempt on his life in 2004. Don’t let the usage of traditional música Mexicana instruments fool you; the cadence of this braggadocious track about hedonistic excess and indulgence is closer to hip-hop. With “Frecuencia,” and the album it comes from (“Redención,” which translates to “Redemption”), the regional veteran with more than two decades of experience under his belt proves that it’s never too late to reinvent yourself. —F.M.

15. Cuco, “Ridin’”
For his third studio album, “Ridin’,” Cuco said he wanted to embody the timelessness of Chicano soul without being derivative. “I wanted to go for more natural sounds with the soul sound, but I think it’s just inevitable for me sometimes,” the 27-year-old multi-instrumentalist from Hawthorne told De Los this summer. “I’m just going to end up doing some psychedelic parts with the music because that’s what I’ve always been.” This happy marriage of influences is most apparent in the LP’s titular track, which starts off feeling like you’re cruising with your sweetheart down a Southern California highway in a 1964 Chevy Impala before taking off into space. —F.M.

14. Mon Laferte, “Las Flores Que Dejaste En La Mesa”
Recently, Mon Laferte told me that she was especially proud of a verse in this song where she rhymed the description of a former lover’s erection with the word architecture. The juxtaposition of poetic wordplay with graphic sexuality is one of the Chilean singer’s favorite devices — here, it adds a frisson of decadence to a lush orchestration reminiscent of John Barry’s 007 themes. A key track off Laferte’s noirish “Femme Fatale,” “Las Flores Que Dejaste En La Mesa” takes off with the quiet longing of bossa nova, boils into unhinged bolero territory, then incorporates the icy electro loops of trip-hop icons Portishead. Still, the heart of the song is Laferte’s vocal performance — wounded and incandescent. —E.L.

13. Planta Industrial, “Oi”
Hilariously named “Punkwave Sin Barreras” — a nod to the ESL learning series “Inglés Sin Barreras” — the debut EP by the Bronx Dominican duo Planta Industrial is a generous helping of punk rock, darkwave and dembow fusion. The project is powered by high school friends turned rappers, who go by the names A.K.A. The Darknight and Saso (recently featured on the song “Caribeño” with Rauw Alejandro). On “Oi,” a clever stand-in for the word “hoy,” the duo deploy frenetic breakbeats, Ramones-style gang vocals and a touch of Toño Rosario freakness to demand their dues from a cheapskate boss. “F— you, pay me, “ chant the MCs. “Mañana, no — oi oi oi!” —S.E.

12. Six Sex feat. MCR-T, “Bitches Like Me”
This year, Argentina established itself as the Latin rave epicenter, with Six Sex leading the charge. Alongside Berlin-based club DJ MCR-T, and a propulsive synth line from Kylie Minogue’s “Can’t Get You Out of My Head,” the Buenos Aires baddie crafts one of the chicest earworms of the year. The beauty of using one of the best pop melodies of all time is that it’s already engineered for success, so MCR-T keeps it simple and silly with the addition of a thumping, four-to-the-floor beat. It plays out like a drunken freestyling session in your coolest friend’s apartment — with lines like “you are not that bitch” delivered with a heavily-accented affectation that feels seductive, but more importantly, unbothered. —R.C.

11. Rosalía feat. Yahritza Y Su Esencia, “La Perla”
Although the Spanish singer would be ineligible for this list on her own, Rosalía’s diss track “La Perla” — a scathing, ranchera-style ballad dedicated to a certain pretty boy ex with a sizable collection of other women’s bras — shines bright among her otherwise sparkling collection of orchestral pop songs in “Lux.” Rosalía wisely recruited the swooning Mexican American sierreña trio, Yahritza Y Su Esencia, to help her better emulate a Paquita La Del Barrio dress-down of a lover gone astray. The spirit of “La Perla” articulates not what it sounds like to be loved Mexicanly, but to be loathed Mexicanly — á la Catalana. —S.E.

10. Netón Vega, “Me Ha Costado”
Netón Vega’s sprawling debut album “Mi Vida Mi Muerte” makes a formidable attempt to define the rapidly-shifting sound of corridos tumbados, courtesy of one of the genre’s eminent songwriters. On “Me Ha Costado,” Vega, who hails from Baja California Sur, combines blown-out 808s with a G-funk whine to create a pan-Californian posse track. There’s an overload of shot-calling swagger dripping from every section here, from Alemán’s bouncing hook to Victor Mendivil’s shoutouts to San Andrés and Mazamitla. If you close your eyes, you could see the trio’s lowrider rolling down Whittier Blvd, with all three mischief-makers hanging out the windows. —R.C.

9. Cardi B, “Bodega Baddie”
I am tired of celebrities pretending that they go to the bodega for street cred: “if you know, you know.” One thing about Cardi B, though? I believe she remembers where she came from. “Bodega Baddie” is a bilingual ode to the Bronx’s Dominican enclaves where Cardi From The Block spent her childhood. It’s less than two minutes long, but moves at such a breakneck pace that if you close your eyes, you’re transported outside a deli on Dyckman on a hot summer day — where the fire hydrants are open, 808s are shaking storefront windows, and the whole block is outside. It’s some of the most electric mise-en-scène this year, anchored by a sample of Magic Juan’s “Ta Buena (Tipico)” merengue. —R.C.

8. Kali Uchis, “Sugar! Honey! Love!”
The Colombian American soulstress has played many roles in her songs: a baddie, a psychic, a woman adrift at sea in a yellow raincoat. But in the making of her 2025 album “Sincerely,” she explored the profound vulnerability of becoming a mother — and her sighing revelations in “Sugar! Honey! Love!” melt most beautifully into the hazy pop ether. “I was already an emotional person, [but] since my pregnancy I’ve been able to feel a lot deeper,” she told De Los in May. “When your child is born, you’re reborn in a lot of ways. It’s a death and a rebirth of yourself. But I think a lot of joy and hope comes with that.” —S.E.

7. Adrian Quesada feat. Angélica Garica, “No Juego”
At the start of “No Juego,” we hear the sound of tape being rewound, as if to suggest that we’re about to listen to something from a different era. Sure enough, the psychedelia of the keyboard, guitar and drums transports us to the late 1960s, only to be brought back to the present by the self-assured delivery of vocalist (and El Monte’s own) Angélica Garcia. “No vine pa’ pedir permiso,” she briefly raps (“I’m not here to ask for permission”), before throwing theatrical vocal daggers at a former lover who couldn’t stay true. She’s letting us know that we’re in her world and she’s not playing around. “No Juego” is easily the crown jewel of “Boleros Psicodélicos II.”—F.M.

6. Ca7riel y Paco Amoroso, “#TETAS”
Sometimes a song is only as successful as its concept. On “#TETAS,” the Argentine trickster gods Ca7riel y Paco Amoroso try to reverse-engineer a pop anthem, ChatGPT buzzwords and all. A flippant listener could dismiss “#TETAS” as just a winking novelty song — after all, what “serious” track contains a character named Gymbaland, the lyrics “let me be your Chad,” and a post-chorus counting dabs? The thing is, though, between the slinking bass line, the massive 80’s Yamaha pianos, and a final key change that soars through the ceiling, the song becomes the exact pop anthem that they’re trying to satirize. “This is a f— smash,” go the final lines of the song. We’re inclined to agree. —R.C.

5. Silvana Estrada, “Como Un Pájaro”
As we compiled the songs for this list, we struggled selecting just one track off Silvana Estrada’s stunning second album. At 28, the singer-songwriter from Veracruz informs her work with a level of maturity that most artists won’t achieve in a lifetime. Like most of the cuts in “Vendrán Suaves Lluvias,” “Como Un Pájaro” draws from the wisdom of the trova movement; enamored with the immediacy of stringed instruments, chronicling the process of healing using metaphors from the natural world. The song’s climax — Estrada’s lustrous voice intertwined with a swelling orchestral arrangement — will probably bring tears to your eyes. Fun fact: In concert, she reproduces the lilting whistled interlude to perfection. —E.L.

4. Astropical, “Fogata (Leo)”
Following a memorable performance at the Hollywood Bowl last summer, it became apparent that Astropical, the supergroup formed by members of Colombia’s Bomba Estéreo and Venezuela’s Rawayana, will probably never reconvene again. We’ll always have “Fogata,” though — a song about holding on to the precious moments of bliss when confronted with the ephemeral nature of… well, everything. The track combines the warmth of a beachside bonfire with slick, Afrobeats-soaked grooves. The stars of the show? The honeyed harmonies of Li Saumet and Beto Montenegro, now intertwined until the end of time. —E.L.

3. Isabella Lovestory, “Telenovela”
Who among us hasn’t thought — whether it be ironically or authentically — “my life is a movie?” Isabella Lovestory takes it one further: her sexcapades, in all their glamour and drama, are worthy of their own telenovela. Much of her sophomore album “Vanity” has main character energy, and Lovestory’s “Telenovela,” with its extended metaphors of Barbarella bad bitches, “tragica erotica,” and using “su lengua pa cambiar el canal” is the descriptive centerpiece. If it doesn’t bring a flush to your cheeks, you’re not listening hard enough; the way she coos “uy-uy-uy” will linger the next time things get a little hot and heavy. —R.C.

2. Fuerza Regida, “Marlboro Rojo”
If I sit on the porch of my Boyle Heights home for 15 minutes, I guarantee you that a pickup truck will eventually drive by playing a corrido at a window-rattling volume. For the last six months, the song of choice blasting from the blown out speakers of these mamalonas has been “Marlboro Rojo.” I get it. The track is so unapologetically — ugh, cringe word, I know — Mexican. What better way to announce your presence than with the boom boom of the sousaphone? 2025 was a marquee year for música Mexicana and no one was more on top of their game than Fuerza Regida. My personal favorite version of this song is from the Apple Music Live concert taped earlier this summer at Mexico City’s GNP Stadium. Hearing the tens of thousands of fans singing the chorus back to JOP gives me chills. — F.M.

1. Bad Bunny, “Baile Inolvidable”
Is there a Bad Bunny record that’s not a love letter to his native Puerto Rico? His 2025 juggernaut, “Debí Tirar Más Fotos,” however, goes far beyond the usual motherland worship; the album’s greatest takeaway is to cherish not just the place, but the people you call home, too. Invoking the feverish, tropical melodrama of salsa titans past and present, Bad Bunny delivers one of his most tremendous vocal performances — powered by his enduring love for a woman he used to know, comparing her to an unforgettable dance. But it’s just like Benito to cut through the gravitas of his own song by lauding an ex for her sexual prowess — namely, her boquita — but his magic as a hit songwriter is most potent in verses that oscillate between the sacred and profane. —S.E.

Throughout 2025, De Los has championed the rise of the Latino artists from their respective musical silos and into the broader global pop stratosphere. The 2026 Super Bowl halftime show headliner Bad Bunny and Inland Empire corrido kings Fuerza Regida scaled new commercial and cultural heights this year, as emerging acts like Silvana Estrada, Ela Minus and Netón Vega took exciting new detours in their sounds.

De Los recently did a team huddle to determine our personal best releases of 2025 — this is no garden variety Latin genre list, but a highlight reel of our favorite works by artists from Latin America and the diaspora.

10. Cazzu, “Latinaje”
Reeling from a romantic disappointment of mythological proportions and the lackluster reception of her previous album, Argentine trap queen Cazzu fired back with a maximalist travelogue that draws from salsa and cumbia, Argentine folk and electro-pop. Cazzu hails from the province of Jujuy, miles away from the musical snobbery that plagues much of Buenos Aires, and her genuine investment in a pan-Latino idiom is contagious. A sumptuous corrido tumbado about a red dress that went viral (“Dolce”) and an Andean-flavored ode to her daughter (“Inti”) are the emotional cornerstones of an album that refuses to harbor resentment and instead chooses to embrace plurality. Her absence from the main categories in this year’s Latin Grammys was nothing short of criminal. —Ernesto Lechner

9. Netón Vega, “Mi Vida Mi Muerte”
As one of música mexicana’s most in-demand songwriters, Netón Vega has crafted hits for every big crossover artist, from Xavi to Peso Pluma. Naturally, it’s about time that he delivered a full-length project of his own. Vega’s debut album, “Mi Vida Mi Muerte,” takes stock of the current sound of corridos tumbados and pushes it to its limits alongside the very collaborators that he helped top the charts. Vega’s chameleonic qualities as a songwriter allow him to bend the rules of what counts as “Mexican” music, and over 21 songs, he establishes that his vision includes Californian G-funk, blissed-out boom bap and even Caribbean reggaeton. Vega sounds equally as comfortable on the radio smash “Loco” as he does wailing over a bajo sexto, proving that the future of corridos, with him at the helm, can be more expansive than ever before. —Reanna Cruz

8. Juana Aguirre, “Anónimo”
If the music business thing doesn’t quite pan out for Juana Aguirre, Argentina’s newly anointed resident genius could find success as a film director — such is the palpable cinematic gravity of “Anónimo,” a stark masterpiece of digital mood conjuring. Aguirre builds her tracks slowly, armed with an unerring instinct for beauty and a ruthless, try-and-discard methodology. The results are childlike at times — parts of “La Noche” and “Lo_Divino” sound like nursery rhymes — while the nakedness of “Volvieron” brims with a solemn, ageless kind of grace. Her sonic spectrum is panoramic, from esoteric folktronica murmurs and camouflaged industrial noise to the cosmic stillness of “Un Nombre Propio” and the ritualistic piano of “Las Ramas.” Until “Anónimo,” the Argentine avant-garde had never sounded so intoxicatingly sensuous. —E.L.

7. Adrian Quesada, “Boleros Psicodélicos II”
At the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, multi-instrumentalist and producer Adrian Quesada enlisted some of the most enthralling vocalists in Latin music to record “Boleros Psicodélicos,” a love letter to Latin American psychedelic ballads from the ’60s and ’70s. The album, which featured original compositions alongside kaleidoscopic covers of the genre, was hailed as an instant classic after its 2022 release. Three years later, Quesada improved upon the winning formula by actually being in the same room as his collaborators — the first album was made in isolation. “There’s a little bit more life, energy to some of the songs,” Quesada told De Los of “Boleros Psicodélicos II.” That vibrancy is certainly felt in tracks like “Bravo” — Puerto Rican singer iLe’s voice is laced with plenty of venom to do justice to Luis Demetrio’s spiteful lyrics (“Te odio tanto / Que yo misma me espanto / De mi forma de odiar”) — and “Primos,” which has Quesada pair up with guitar vibemasters Hermanos Gutiérrez for the album’s only instrumental track. Here’s hoping that we get another installment of this brilliant series three years from now. —Fidel Martinez

6. Nick León, “A Tropical Entropy”
Hailing from Fort Lauderdale, Fla., just a hop, skip and a jump north of Miami, the electronic mixmaster Nick León broke through a busy pop music landscape this year as a producer with a distinctly Floridian point of view. In his latest album, “A Tropical Entropy” — the title harks back to a phrase from Joan Didion’s 1987 book, “Miami” — León crafted his moody “beach noir” sound by blanketing his dynamic assemblages of dembow, dancehall and other Afro-Caribbean rhythms with a foamy, oceanic ambience that flows and hisses throughout the record. Featuring the vocal talents of Ela Minus (“Ghost Orchid”), Erika De Casier (“Bikini”) and Esty (“Millennium Freak” with Mediopicky), it’s an audible feast for club kids whose afters entail collapsing on the sand and watching dolphins traverse the horizon at sunrise. —Suzy Exposito

5. Not For Radio, “Melt”
Released in October, “Melt” is the frosty solo album by María Zardoya, lead singer of Grammy-nominated L.A. band the Marías, who wrote and recorded 10 of her most soul-baring songs yet during a haunted winter sabbatical in the Catskills. Imbued with brooding elements of chamber pop à la Beach House, Broadcast and the Carpenters, there is much enchantment to be found in the details of Zardoya’s electric drama; like how the warm fuzz of an organ meets frosty chimes on opening track “Puddles,” or in the restless, skittish pulse of “Swan.” Zardoya’s yearning for a love lost crescendoes, and is most devastating, in the piano ballad “Back to You”; but it seems as though even her darkest, most melancholic moments are touched by the fae. —S.E.

4. Isabella Lovestory, “Vanity”
With 2022’s “Amor Hardcore,” Isabella Lovestory established herself as a neoperreo princess — the Ivy Queen for the Instagram era. The Honduran pop star’s follow-up album “Vanity” takes a different approach, trading sleazy sexcapades for campy vulnerability. As in her name, Lovestory is inherently a storyteller. Her lyrics are pulled from half-remembered dreams, speaking of herself in immersive, surreal contradiction. She’s a perfume bottle made of foam, or a strawberry made of metal. It’s a deceptively saccharine world, one that she sees as, in her words, a “poisonous lollipop.” And when the production falls somewhere between RedOne productions and Plan B deep cuts, that world becomes a post-cultural, hazy pop dystopia of both the past and a far-off, distant future. —R.C.

3. Fuerza Regida “111XPantia”
In summer 2024, while promoting the band’s previous album, “Pero No Te Enamores,” Fuerza Regida frontman Jesús Ortiz Paz assured me that the San Bernardino quintet was not abandoning the sound that made it one of the biggest acts in the música mexicana space. Simply put, JOP was scratching a creative itch by flirting with Jersey club, drill and house music. True to his word, the charchetas and tololoche are now back and on full display in “111xPantia.” Yet the band’s 9th studio album is by no means a rehash of their past work; Fuerza Regida is as experimental as ever, whether by incorporating a banjo on “Peliculeando” (what’s next, a collab with Mumford & Sons?) or sampling Nino Rota’s iconic theme song on “GodFather” (given the focus on excess, the lyrics are more Tony Montana than Michael Corleone). This year, JOP & Co. set a new benchmark for the ever-evolving genre, all while becoming the biggest band in the world; Fuerza Regida was notably the only non-solo act to crack Spotify’s end-of-year top global artist list. —F.M.

2. Silvana Estrada, “Vendrán Suaves Lluvias”
Estrada’s second full-length album is a musical masterclass in maintaining serenity through loss. With her head held high, the Latin Grammy-winning Mexican singer-songwriter soldiered through an extended period of grief to write “Vendrán Suaves Lluvias,” including a harrowing heartbreak and the shocking murder of a friend. The bones of songs like “Como Un Pájaro” and “Un Rayo de Luz” are folk ballads, which she initially wrote using her trusty cuatro; but with the mighty backing of an orchestra, Estrada’s compositions swell with a symphonic grandeur that bolster the songbird’s more empowered and optimistic stance in the face of disappointment. “¿Cuál еra la idea de aventartе sin dejarte caer? Qué manera tan desoladora de querer,” she sings with an arid, jazzy inflection on “Dime” — a plea to a half-hearted lover who cowers at the force of her integrity. —S.E.

1. Bad Bunny, “Debí Tirar Mas Fotós”
“Debí Tirar Mas Fotós” has managed to dominate conversation all year — from its No. 1 debut in January to this summer’s blockbuster residency and subsequent world tour. Much has been said already about Bad Bunny’s magnum opus; the album is a generation-spanning, full-throated celebration of boricua resilience, and simultaneously a pointed warning about the ongoing neocolonization of La Isla del Encanto. But perhaps, in the spirit of its title, its best function is as a series of timeless musical snapshots: There’s the sweeping voice of the jíbaro calling down from the mountains on “Lo Que Le Pasó A Hawaii.” Sweat from rum-soaked nights in Brickell and La Placita lingers on “Voy a LLevarte Pa PR” and “Eoo.” Hands fold together on “Weltita” as waves ebb and flow, and the warmth of a grandparent’s final forehead kiss lingers on “DTMF.” It’s a record that is designed to be intimately understood by Latinos, with Bad Bunny’s personal ethos of Puerto Rican independence managing to build a bridge between the island and those displaced from it. And with Benito’s Super Bowl victory lap right around the corner, “Debí Tirar Mas Fotós” is poised to dominate not just 2025, but the coming months as well, cementing him as — to paraphrase “Nuevayol” — el rey de pop, reggaetón y dembow.

Honorable mentions:

Reanna’s pick: Corridos Ketamina, “Corridos Ketamina”
There’s one night at the start of every Los Angeles autumn when you can begin to feel the chill of loneliness in the air. When I heard “V-Neno,” the opening track on Corridos Ketamina’s self-titled debut EP, I was taken back to the first time I felt it: walking around at 3 AM alone and moody as hell. The 14-minute EP is like if Lil Peep and Lil Tracy went down to Sinaloa for the weekend. Triple-tracked vocals drenched in reverb drift over sluggish guitar loops, all struggling to claw out of the K-hole. Yes, technically Corridos Ketamina are making narcocorridos (what you see is what you get: in an interview with the Fader, they put it simply, “Let’s make the first corrido about doing K”), but there’s something still warm and inviting at the core of these seven songs. Maybe it’s the familiar blend of emo, rap, shoegaze and corridos — or it’s the fact that this is a record that could only come out of Los Angeles, born out of late nights on empty freeways and in seedy apartments. —R.C.

Ernesto’s pick: Amor Elefante, “Amigas”
I dare you not to smile when you listen to “Hipnótico,” the synth-pop fantasia that kicks off “Amigas,” a welcome return to action for Buenos Aires quartet Amor Elefante. The band moves in the fertile periphery where sunshine pop meets dream rock, channeling the Police on the reggae vibe of “Universal Hit” and diving into Cocteau Twins ether on “La Vuelta.” If anything, “Amigas” illustrates the band’s bloom as composers of potential singles: drummer Rocío Fernández goes funky on the folk-driven “La Vuelta,” while keyboardist Inés Copertino flexes her disco diva status on the outro line to “Foto de una Coreografía.” In lead singer Rocío Bernardiner, Amor boasts one of South America’s most radiant voices. —E.L.

Suzy’s pick: Ela Minus, “Día”
Born in Bogotá, Colombia, and now based in Brooklyn, electronic artist-producer Gabriela Jimeno, or Ela Minus, first bonded with beats as a tween drummer in a hardcore band. That rugged punk rock intensity would later unify the vast, synth-laden sprawl that is her second album, “Día”: a chronicle of her displacement during the COVID-19 pandemic and subsequent ego death. She lets her listeners in with the vulnerable yet galvanizing dance track “I Want to Be Better,” which she has described as her “only love song” — but icily calls for the world’s end on the Latin Grammy-nominated club cut “QQQQ,” and rejects the parasocial worship of pop stars in “Idols,” chanting: “Chasing after phantoms / Bowing down to someone else’s idols.” Indeed — how embarrassing! —S.E.

Fidel’s pick: Cuco, “Ridin’”
Hawthorne’s own Cuco (real name Omar Banos) tapped into the soundtrack of Southern California’s lowrider culture — soul and R&B — to make “Ridin’” one of the best neo-Chicano soul albums in recent years. Tracks like “My 45” and “ICNBYH” (“I Could Never Break Your Heart”) are perfect accompaniments for slow drives down Whittier Boulevard. “Para Ti,” the only Spanish song on the LP, sounds like it could come out of one of your abuelo’s bolero albums. —F.M.