music video

The Chicago Bears didn’t want to seem cocky.

They didn’t want to jinx themselves.

They certainly didn’t want to provide opponents with bulletin board fodder during their attempt to bring a Super Bowl championship to their home city after the 1985 season.

As a large group of players from that team — billed as the Chicago Bears Shufflin’ Crew — said in the lyrics to one of the most unlikely hit songs and music videos of the 1980s: “We’re not here to start no trouble. We’re just here to do ‘The Super Bowl Shuffle.’”

All of those thoughts weighed on the minds of the 30 or so players who recorded “The Super Bowl Shuffle” four decades ago this month, several weeks before the NFL regular season even ended.

“If we don’t go to the Super Bowl, we’re gonna be the biggest idiots ever,” former Bears linebacker and Pro Football Hall of Famer Mike Singletary says in “The Shuffle,” an NFL Films production presented by HBO Documentary Films. “We gotta win this thing, man.’”

Singletary is one of several of people who share their thoughts and memories about their participation in what has become a beloved relic during the 40-minute documentary that premieres Tuesday at 9 p.m. PST on HBO and streaming on HBO Max. Director Jeff Cameron told The Times that it’s no coincidence that “The Shuffle” is dropping during the 40th anniversary season of the Bears’ only Super Bowl title.

“Outside of some print media or some articles, no one had really chronicled the entire genesis, development and production of ‘The Super Bowl Shuffle,’ which is so intertwined with that team,“ Cameron said.

The song was the brainchild of Chicago businessman Dick Meyer, who had formed Red Label Records the previous year. With the Bears off to a strong start to the 1985 season, Meyer thought a hip-hop record featuring many of the already beloved personalities from that team might have some success in Chicago.

Many players agreed to participate after learning that part of the proceeds were going toward the Chicago Community Trust. “We’re not doin’ this because we’re greedy,” running back Walter Payton rapped during his verse, “the Bears are doin’ it to feed the needy.”

Other featured Bears players included Singletary, Gary Fencik, Willie Gault, Otis Wilson, Steve Fuller, Mike Richardson, Richard Dent, William “Refrigerator” Perry and Jim McMahon.

The vocal tracks were recorded on Nov. 21, 1985. The Bears were 11-0 at the time, coming off a 44-0 rout of the Dallas Cowboys. They continued to roll the following weekend with a 36-0 victory against the Atlanta Falcons.

But their run of perfection came to an end Dec. 2, 1985, with an ugly 38-24 loss to the Dolphins in Miami on “Monday Night Football.” It just so happened that the music video shoot for “The Super Bowl Shuffle” was scheduled for the next morning in Chicago.

Suddenly, Gault said in the documentary, “Guys don’t want to do the video.”

Two of the team’s biggest stars, Payton and McMahon, didn’t show up. They were added into the video after shooting their parts one day after practice.

“It was pretty audacious of us to talk about going to the Super Bowl, winning it, you know?” McMahon said in the documentary. “We still got games to play, and we just lost.”

Chicago Bears players Mike Singletary (left) and Gary Fencik take part in the filming of ‘The Super Bowl Shuffle’ music video Dec. 3, 1985, at the Park West in Chicago.

(Paul Natkin / HBO / Getty Images)

But the video shoot may have had unexpected benefits for the players who participated.

“If not for ‘The Shuffle,’ they probably don’t even get together” that day, Cameron told The Times. “They probably don’t see each other until Wednesday because they have Tuesdays off after Monday night, and they’re right back in the film room or the practice field. They don’t properly get to just forget about the loss for a second, get together as a group of guys who like playing with each other and just who love each other.”

In behind-the-scenes footage provided to Cameron’s team by Meyer’s widow, Julia Meyer, the players are seen laughing and joking around as they attempt to learn a few dance moves and lip-sync their parts, all with varying degrees of success.

“We bonded in a way that we could never have bonded in any other way,” Singletary said in the documentary. “That was the fun part of working together in a totally different realm. There were guys that were backups teaching guys that were starters. We mixed in a way that we had never had a chance to do before. And it became a rallying point that brought us together, got us refocused. ‘This is what we said we were gonna do, let’s go get it done.’”

The Bears didn’t lose another game on their way to defeating the New England Patriots 46-10 in Super Bowl XX. And “The Super Bowl Shuffle” was a success in its own right, with popularity that extended well beyond Chicago.

The single spent nine weeks on the Billboard Hot 100, peaking at No. 41, and was certified gold by the Recording Industry Assn. of America (500,000 units moved). The music video, released commercially on VHS and Betamax, was certified platinum (one million units moved).

The song was even nominated for a Grammy in the category of “Best R&B Performance by a Duo or a Group with Vocals,” eventually losing to Prince and the Revolution for the song “Kiss.”

“I think it was the perfect marriage of that cast of characters from the top down … and the fact that, outside of the Miami game, of course, they just kept winning,” Cameron said. “And it wasn’t close. I think that certainly helps propel this video, along with the rise of MTV. It was a perfect storm of a pop cultural phenomenon.”

To get it out of the way: Yes, Tobias Jesso Jr. has heard about gooning.

“Somebody put me up on it and said it was about masturbation?” says the 40-year-old singer and songwriter, which is about half-right: As detailed in an essay in Harper’s that went viral last month, to goon — a term heretofore associated with Jesso thanks to his cult-fave 2015 album “Goon” — means in Gen Z parlance to masturbate at such great lengths that the act leads to a kind of trance state.

“Well, I’ve never done that,” Jesso says. “‘Goon’ I got from ‘The Goonies’ — it’s just a brilliant movie.” He laughs. “But I don’t care. If it sells more records, sure.”

That Jesso has a record to sell at all might take some by surprise. Though “Goon” thoroughly charmed critics and fellow musicians with its early-’70s-balladeer vibe — many said he evoked the glory days of Randy Newman, Harry Nilsson and beard-and-shearling-coat-era Paul McCartney — Jesso didn’t cotton to the life of a sort-of-famous performer and almost immediately walked away from his solo career to write songs for other singers instead.

He’s thrived in that role, penning hits for the likes of Adele, Niall Horan, Harry Styles and Dua Lipa. In 2023, he was named songwriter of the year at the Grammy Awards; this month he was nominated for that prize for a second time, with the Recording Academy citing his work with Justin Bieber (“Daisies”), Haim (“Relationships”) and Olivia Dean (“Man I Need”), among others.

Yet now he’s back with an unexpected follow-up to his debut called “Shine,” which came out Friday. Stripped back for the most part to just voice and piano, it’s an earnest work of introspection from a guy who knows how to make tenderness feel like strength.

Jesso, who grew up in Vancouver and lives in Los Angeles, announced the album just last week with a music video for his song “I Love You” that features the actors Riley Keough and Dakota Johnson, with whom he’s been close since he first touched down here around 2008.

“I hit them up and was like, ‘You girls think it’s about time I use your fame to get some extra clicks?’” he says on a recent morning at his place in Silver Lake. “The video opens up on them, then it pans away and it goes to me and you never see them again.”

Says Keough, a former girlfriend: “It was a very Tobias ask.”

So why return to the spotlight? According to Jesso, he wouldn’t have had it not been for a breakup that left him “the most depressed I’ve ever been in my life, by far.” We’re sitting in a cozy den that looks out over a lush hillside garden; a bowl of persimmons sits on a coffee table while a copy of “McCartney II” peeks out from a stack of LPs.

Jesso, whose mop of curly hair has begun ever so slightly to gray, says that when he enters a songwriting session with another artist, “I leave my worries and woes outside the door. I’m there to serve you — to write the song you want to write.” It’s an approach that’s endeared him to his star collaborators and yielded songs as deep as Adele’s “To Be Loved,” a stunning meditation on the costs of divorce from her 2021 album “30.”

But earlier this year, for the first time in Jesso’s decade of behind-the-scenes work, he found himself struggling to deliver. “I was feeling so in the dumps that I’d be choking on a line that I didn’t even want to say because if I say it, I’ll start crying,” he recalls.

He cleared six weeks from his busy schedule to process his emotions; the result was a set of songs for himself about heartache — “I can see the love leaving from your eyes in the form of a tear,” he sings in “Rain” — but also about his mom’s experience with dementia and about the young son he shares with his ex-wife.

To record the music, Jesso’s instinct was to go big. “I’m a dreamer, so I was like, ‘Imagine all the people I could have help me now that I didn’t have 10 years ago,’” he says. “I went from so-and-so to so-and-so, trying out studios, making promises I couldn’t keep. But all that stuff over the weeks just kind of flaked away.”

What remained was the beautifully mellow sound of a vintage Steinway piano he’d had restored after buying it on Craiglist for $800. He keeps the piano in a small, uncluttered studio upstairs from the den at his house; that’s where he cut “Shine,” singing live as he accompanied himself in real time.

A small handful of other players appear on the album, most prominently in “I Love You,” which erupts near the end with a wild drum fill performed by Jesso’s old pal Kane Ritchotte. The idea for the percussive outburst came to Jesso after he’d consumed “a s— ton of mushrooms,” he says. “I turned to my assistant at the time — I wonder if I have it — and I said, ‘Record me right now.’ She started recording me, and what came out was that fill.”

He picks up his phone and scrolls for a moment. “Look at this,” he says, turning the screen my way: There’s Jesso in the same room we’re in right now, staring wide-eyed into the camera as he mouths the drum sounds Ritchotte would later replicate exactly.

“That song is about somebody’s inner child being in the middle of a labyrinth, and you’re trying to find them so you can convince them that you’re in love,” Jesso tells me. “You can’t get there and you’re wishing that the whole labyrinth would just be destroyed. So when it gets to that part — ‘Shatter the cracks wide open / And say, “I love you”’ — the drums are the walls coming down. That’s the shattering.”

Tobias Jesso Jr. at the 65th Grammy Awards in 2023.

(Jay L. Clendenin / Los Angeles Times)

Drum theatrics aside, Jesso’s singing is the album’s clear focal point; his pleading, slightly unsteady tone gives the music an emotional intimacy that makes you feel as though you’re sitting right next to him on the piano bench.

Jesso describes his voice as something of a liability, which Keough says has been true since he was ducking the frontman’s job in the various bands he played in when he was in his early 20s. “I always loved his voice, and he just didn’t feel that way for whatever reason,” she recalls. “I don’t know if he felt a sort of shyness, which is really interesting because as a person he’s not shy whatsoever.”

Asked whether Jesso’s decision to follow up “Goon” surprised her, she says, “I was surprised he released ‘Goon’ to begin with.”

The way Jesso sees it, “My voice isn’t good enough for the songs I write, which is why I’ve chosen to work with all these other people.” What he’s comes to realize, though, is that “my voice is perfect for my songs.”

Which doesn’t mean it’s easy for him to hear it. Once he’d finished recording, Jesso asked his friend Shawn Everett to mix “Shine”; what he got back — with every imperfection of his voice under a virtual magnifying glass — terrified him. “It felt way, way, way too vulnerable,” Jesso says.

He texted Everett and said he was sorry but that he couldn’t put out the record like this. “I told him, ‘You just brought out more of me than I’m willing to share,’” he says now. “Then I got home, I smoked a big fat joint and I sat on the couch. I was like, I’m gonna wait until I’m high enough that I can press play and pretend this isn’t me.” He laughs. “I put on the headphones, and I have never in my life had such a profound experience with music.”

Who’d you imagine was singing?
I don’t know — like a 50-year-old dude or maybe a 20-year-old girl who’s got a low voice? It didn’t matter — it wasn’t me, so I wasn’t listening with judgmental ears.

The paradox is that “Shine” feels like the you-est possible album.
There’s no tricks. I didn’t auto-tune, I didn’t cut anything together, I didn’t do any of that. It’s me singing a take, and it’s the best take I got. Whereas with “Goon,” there were a lot of elements that maybe weren’t possible for me to do.

“Goon” was a little more elaborate — more players and producers.
Which was tortuous because I’m like, “How do I recreate this thing that I didn’t even fully make myself?”

Given the unhappiness of your experience after “Goon” came out, I wondered whether this time you’d put certain restrictions on what you’re willing to do.
I’ll say right off the bat: I’m not touring — no way. I’ve met enough artists who say, “I feel totally myself onstage,” to know that there’s a natural state in which people feel comfortable up there. And I’ve tried every which way — by which I mean drinking and not drinking — and I just can’t. It’s not me.

Maybe this is something I still need to work on in therapy, but by being onstage and singing, I’m basically saying, “I’m a singer,” and I’m not comfortable saying that. I’m comfortable saying, “I’m a songwriter.” So there’s this weird shame that comes in where I’m presenting myself beyond what I know my ability to be.

One of the benchmarks I needed to hit on this record was to be comfortable that I’m not misrepresenting myself, which is why I’m OK if there’s an out-of-tune note here and there or if it’s a little bit fast or slow. But even knowing that I can perform it exactly like it is on the record, there’s nothing drawing me to the stage. I don’t really want to have a relationship with fans in that way. I feel very privileged that this is not my main job.

Between “Goon” and now, songwriting became your main job.
So I don’t have to take this as seriously. The parts I do take seriously — the art — I’m willing to put in the work for.

But not for success per se.
Exactly. This is weird to say, but there were moments where I was toiling over this record — listening to Take No. 73 and being like, “Wait, what was the other one?” — and the thought would occur to me: I could go to work today instead of do this and potentially create much more wealth for myself than this album could ever do.

I mean, that’s almost certainly the case.
In comparison, “Shine” is meaningless in terms of success and potential. And yet I was still drawn to doing it, which made me feel like I was making the right choice for myself. But when it comes to the stuff I don’t think is important, just try to get me to do it. It ain’t happening.

I went back and looked at something I wrote about a show you played at South by Southwest in 2015 where you had to start your song “True Love” five times.
Oh God.

But it’s not like anybody in the crowd was mad about it. People thought it was cute.
I feel like if I was onstage now — and everything’s pointing to I probably should play a show or two — I’d be able to see the value in vulnerability. It’s human, and I like that about it. But at the time I wasn’t able to cope with the people who wouldn’t see it that way. Because I wasn’t seeing it that way. I was seeing it as: I’m trying to pretend I’m OK with this, but I’m actually forgetting my song because I’m such a s— performer. Yeah, the crowd loves it, but I go offstage and I’m not looking for the comments saying, “It was so funny.” I’m looking for the ones that are like, “This guy’s a joke.” And I’m like, f—, I knew it.

Keough shares Jesso’s assessment of what’s put him in a different position today versus 10 years ago.

“With ‘Goon,’ he would have put pressure on himself” to jump through the hoops required of a performer, she says. “He was a barista straight out of the coffee shop. ‘Shine’ is straight off all his Grammys and his big songwriting career. He’s able to be more free as an artist now because the stakes are lower.”

Yet not so long ago Jesso reckoned he might be close to burning out in the pop realm. “I was kind of getting ready to dip,” he says, “because I don’t like going into a room and saying, ‘Oh, this song is blowing up — let’s do the same thing.’”

Tobias Jesso Jr. at home in Silver Lake.

(Ian Spanier / For The Times)

He clarifies that he’s not talking about working with an artist like Dua Lipa, who recruited him as a writer for her 2024 “Radical Optimism” LP. “Dua was great,” he says. “I’m talking about going into pitch sessions and sitting with a bunch of writers and figuring out how to get a song pitched. That’s never really worked for me, and the higher you get with producers, the more into that formula you’re putting yourself.”

What he found with Bieber earlier this year was nothing like that. “It was balls to the wall, ideas just flying around,” Jesso says of the roving sessions for the pop superstar’s experimental “Swag” and “Swag II” albums, which took Jesso and the rest of Bieber’s crew to France and the Bahamas and Iceland before Jesso began work on “Shine.”

“I nearly wept on more than one occasion because of how moved I felt about what Justin was doing,” Jesso says. “It was raw emotion without any tricks, without any wordplay, without any of the stuff that I’d been so jaded by in the industry.” The experience, he adds, “reinvigorated my belief in pop music.”

Which makes it an interesting time to move to Australia, as Jesso plans to do soon in order to be close to his son, Ellsworth, who’s there with Jesso’s ex-wife, the Australian singer and songwriter Emma Louise.

“D-I-V-O-R-C-E, you know — it’s always give and take to meet each other’s needs,” he says. “And one of the things was Australia. She really wants Ellsworth to go to school there, which makes sense in one sense — and professionally makes no sense at all. But I committed to it, and I want to at least give it a try and see it through.

“This album coming out and moving to Australia within the same couple months — it feels like a big moment of change,” Jesso continues. “Maybe I’m letting go of some old things, like music being scary, and embracing some new scary things. I don’t know what the hell I’m gonna do over there. Hopefully I get busy doing something. Otherwise I’ll be pitching the groundskeeper ideas for TV shows the whole time.”

Before FKA Twigs could discuss her upcoming album, “Afterglow,” she needed a matcha.

The British singer-songwriter had first answered a Zoom call from the backseat of a dimly lit car in New York, where she confessed to running on “2% personality.” She explained that she had flown in that morning from London and had spent the day promoting her upcoming movie, “The Carpenter’s Son,” a biblical horror co-starring Nicolas Cage.

Luckily, only a few minutes into the interview, the singer born Tahliah Debrett Barnett spotted a familiar matcha spot coming up on her route. In a split-second decision, she runs into the cafe, eager for a caffeine boost, and orders everything matcha she could get her hands on — a hot lavender matcha latte, a matcha soft serve and matcha-flavored pudding.

“Oh, we’re gonna be buzzing,” said Twigs, who laughs a bit about how she hasn’t eaten much that day and decided to exclusively consume matcha desserts. After making it back to the car and indulging in a few sips, she declares, “It feels like I have my personality back. That was quite an authentic experience.”

With a revived glint in her eyes, she was ready to debrief “Afterglow,” the unexpected continuation of her third studio album, “Eusexua.” The 37-year-old singer released “Eusexua” in January as both the namesake of her record and a term she coined to describe a transcendent state of being.

Now, less than a year later and set to be released the same day as “The Carpenter’s Son,” her latest album is meant to “beautifully unravel” the questions of humanity she presents on “Eusexua.”

From the start, she says, she knew that “Eusexua” was something bigger than a singular album — equating it to an era. Inspired by Prague’s underground rave culture, the record itself is centered around life’s purest experiences. Over tattered drum and bass patterns, retro-futuristic crescendos and ephemeral melodies, Twigs attempts to bottle the way dance music makes her feel. Lyrically, she embraces a childlike wonder, shares her vulnerabilities and indulges in sweet nothings — all with the intention of capturing what it means to be a person.

Where “Eusexua” is “the bird’s eye view of the human experience,” Twigs says, “Afterglow” is meant to capture humanity through a more direct lens, where feelings are unfiltered and instantaneous. Changing this viewpoint was something that came to her with ease.

“Sometimes when you’re creating something, it feels like you’re rubbing against something or you’re pushing something uphill. But with this project, it didn’t feel like that. It was flowing naturally,” said Twigs.

Most of “Afterglow” was made post-“Eusexua” from the comfort of her home studio in Hackney, London. Despite “Eusexua’s” successful release, she couldn’t shake the feeling of still having more to give.

“I can’t explain it. Sometimes you put out an album, and then it feels like you need to stop for a while,” said Twigs. “But with ‘Eusexua,’ it felt like it was still growing. The message was still spreading, and people still wanted a deeper understanding of what it was.”

For over a decade, Twigs has been known to cushion her albums with a few years between each release. Her debut, “LP1,” released in 2014, was followed by “Magdalene” in 2019 and “Eusexua” in 2025. She also released a mixtape, called “Caprisongs,” in 2022. On each project, she bears a new side to herself, often diving headfirst into the depths of her identity, love life and womanhood. Uncovering raw emotions, like loss, lust and jealousy, she’s able to capture their complexities through erratic rhythms, unorthodox mechanics and a trance-like ambiance.

FKA Twigs performs at Camp Flog Gnaw in November 2019.

(Allen J. Schaben / Los Angeles Times)

Before becoming a musician, she found success at an early age as a professional dancer. In her late teens and early 20s, she appeared as a dancer in music videos for artists like Ed Sheeran, Jessie J and Kylie Minogue. To this day, she relies on dancing and bodily movement as an essential part of how she understands music.

“When you dance, it’s really good to know the rules and the fundamentals, like with ballet. But once you know ballet, then you can mess it up and let go. You can dance with more freedom,” said Twigs, in between bites of her matcha pudding. “That’s kind of what ‘Afterglow’ is. It’s ‘Eusexua,’ but it’s wild, sensual and irresistible. It’s meant to quench a thirst.”

Since she’d laid out the groundwork with her previous release, she approached its follow-up with a carefree sense of freedom. The 11-track album is meant to be a concept album of sorts, detailing the aftermath of a night out. From the feeling of fresh air after leaving a sweaty dance floor to the drunken temptations of texting an ex-lover and the inevitable rush of not wanting the night to end, Twigs proves she has the “afters” down to a formula.

Leaning into a slightly less alien soundscape than the one heard on “Eusexua,” the singer indulges in a masterful form of electronic edging — never going the predictable route. On songs like “Slushy” and “Predictable Girl,” she intertwines a menagerie of robotic, spacey sirens with tinges of Jersey club beats and ’90s-influenced R&B chords. While on equally hypnotic tracks like “Cheap Hotel” and “Sushi,” she commands the heavily-layered soundscape with an intoxicating sense of recklessness.

“Sometimes I go out to reset my brain a little bit. Obviously, I love what I do so much. I love being an artist. But sometimes, it just gets unnecessarily stressful,” explains Twigs, who touches on the complications of fame with the track “Wild and Alone,” alongside fellow British pop music innovator PinkPantheress.

“So when I go out, it makes me put everything into perspective and realize what’s really important in my life, who I want to be and who I want to be around.”

Powered by these realizations, she’ll continue to lose herself in foggy nightclub dance floors, masses of sweaty bodies and blinding strobe lights. But she says, when it comes to making art, there’s one thing she’ll never lose sight of.

The only thing that can affect her creative output, she says, is “whether you’re telling the truth or not, and how honest you’re being.”

Alfredo Flores is always moving, but you wouldn’t know it from the precise stills he takes of Sabrina Carpenter emerging onstage, her cheekiness and sparkly go-go boots shining through his images.

The portfolio of 36-year-old Flores, Carpenter’s tour photographer, is already familiar to most. Those photos of Carpenter posed with the tour stop’s city labeled on a mug and sealed with a kiss — that’s Flores’ work.

He has captured Carpenter’s rise from her “Emails I Can’t Send” era to the dazzlingly successful Short n’ Sweet tour, the work from which earned Flores the iHeart Radio Award for favorite tour photographer and puts him back on the road next week for an additional North American leg, including her six-night run at Crypto.com Arena next week.

But Carpenter’s towel reveals, set changes and winks won’t look exactly the same.

“Creatively, I just try my best to figure out different ways to shoot the same show,” said Flores, fresh off VMAs adrenaline and the release buzz of Carpenter’s latest album, “Man’s Best Friend.”

He constantly alters angles and lenses, including long, short and fish-eye, all with his Canon — the camera brand he’s been loyal to his entire career. However, that doesn’t make his first forays into photography any less impactful.

Alfredo Flores smiling with Sabrina Carpenter.

(Courtesy of Alfredo Flores)

Flores’ trajectory as a live music photographer is informed by the era he grew up in, one of disposable cameras, 24-hour photo labs, VHS camcorders, photo books full of family vacation pictures and the visionaries behind the hits that made us press the replay button on CD players.

He recalls his path was charted before him one afternoon in his native Belleview, N.J., on a sick day home from school in the form of the VH1 show “Pop-Up Video,” which featured music videos accompanied by trivia-filled text bubbles.

“It was Mariah Carey’s music video for ‘Honey,’ and it said, ‘This video is directed by Paul Hunter. The location is Puerto Rico. This is an extra. This is a body double,’ ” said Flores, who added, “And it clicked in my brain, ‘Oh, this is something that people create’ … and that’s where my interest really peaked in a more professional way.”

In 2008, when the ultimate music video platform was no longer VH1, but YouTube, Flores moved to Los Angeles and sought out the minds who inspired him — the directors and producers who shaped his camcorder and disposable days, before he ever strapped a Canon around his neck.

“I went to the [Geffen Records] offices every day until I got a yes,” said Flores.

He spent his initial internship days showcasing his perceptive eye by compiling magazine photos for music video storyboards. It was this eye that quickly put Flores on set, shooting bonus footage for a 2009 Nickelodeon production, “School Gyrls.” The made-for-TV movie featured a certain Canadian teen who benefited from the YouTube boom.

The Justin Bieber cameo would develop into a working relationship, allowing Flores to pursue the art form that prompted his move to Los Angeles: directing music videos.

Flores’s music video for Bieber’s song “Love Me” encapsulates the early stages of Bieber’s career. Flores intercut Bieber singing to the camera with footage of fans, behind-the-scenes chats with Usher and numerous angles of Bieber’s signature look — the swoop that inspired hair flips round the world.

Years later, in 2020, when the world stopped, Flores didn’t. He co-directed Bieber once again for the “Stuck with U” music video, a montage of loved ones dancing and embracing in their homes. It was 4 minutes and 17 seconds of celebrated togetherness in the midst of government-enforced close proximity. The song is a duet between Bieber and Ariana Grande, an artist whom Flores defines as a “once-in-a-lifetime kind of talent.”

Flores spent much of the 2010s working with Grande, all angles taken into consideration. From her upside-down album cover for “Thank U, Next” to co-directing her more festive side for the “Santa Tell Me” video to incorporating nostalgia into a Grande-Victoria Monét collaboration, “Monopoly.” Co-directing the friendship anthem’s music video, Flores nodded to a ‘90s upbringing by using a decent amount of camcorder footage.

“Joan [Grande’s mom] probably has so many VHS videos of Ari growing up. And Beth [Carpenter’s mom] has so many VHS recordings of Sabrina,” he said.

The artistic journeys of Carpenter, Grande and Flores are intertwined with the sought-after music video director Dave Meyers. The Grammy winner has bestowed the world with distinct visuals, such as Kendrick Lamar re-creating “The Last Supper” while rapping “HUMBLE.,” Britney Spears accepting an acting award in the midst of belting out “Lucky,” and Grande as an ethereal being singing “God Is a Woman.”

Meyers directed two music videos for Carpenter’s “Short n’ Sweet” album with Flores as the behind-the-scenes photographer. Both videos helped facilitate Carpenter’s catapult into the cultural lexicon with the summer-infused shots in “Espresso” and the “Death Becomes Her” story line in “Taste.”

Alfredo Flores in the photo pit for Sabrina Carpenter.

(Courtesy of Alfredo Flores)

“BTS for me in the hands of Alfredo feels like a living yearbook of the experience we all had. I’m so deep in the creative process that I’m not self-aware of what’s happening, and to re-watch through his work allows me to enjoy the stories being told all around us. The capturing of the actual process, the passion we all share to create — those are the stories he captures over and over,” said Meyers.

Often, Flores takes those candid moments even further with a Polaroid camera — he points, shoots and hopes for the best. The instant photo is at the mercy of light and luck, which are part of the magic, he said.

“It’s the color, the grain, the imperfection of it all,” he said.

By definition, pop music is inextricably tied to its time period, the subject matter and sound speaking to its modern, often younger audiences. This can denote a fleeting quality, a trend to pass us by, not unlike the evolution of photography and videography.

However, the artists of today suggest otherwise. Carpenter covered Abba’s hit “Mamma Mia.” Grande sampled ‘N Sync in her “Thank U, Next” album. Both MTV and VH1 still have something to teach the music video directors of today. There’s lasting power in pop songs as are the mediums we associate with them. Who are we creatively if not an amalgamation of all we’ve seen, the people we know, the ways in which we originally consumed them?

“When I work with an artist we have longevity,” said Flores.

Not a surprising sentiment from the man taking a backstage Polaroid picture of a Gen Z pop star who praises disco.

Director Kacho López Mari’s critically and culturally acclaimed portfolio includes over 40 music videos and short films that, if played at a YouTube watch party, could leave you and your primos feeling as if you just flip-booked through modern Latin music history.

Some of the music videos have captured the trophies of genres, like Tego Calderón’s “Abayarde” and Daddy Yankee’s “Gasolina,” both essentials on any reggaetón playlist. Other visuals were works of activism — like Bad Bunny’s “El Apagón — Aquí Vive Gente,” the 22-minute music video and investigative short that shed light on the economic crisis that Puerto Ricans continued to face after Hurricane Maria.

A music video has the power to capture today’s culture, tomorrow’s stars, and yesterday’s immediacy. And thanks to López Mari’s legendary lens, we’re able to behold many iconic Latin music moments. Here are 15 of his must-see videos.

These interviews have been edited and condensed for clarity.

Tego Calderón, “Abayarde / Gracias” (2003)

Filmed in Manatí, Puerto Rico

Before producing and directing music videos, López Mari produced “underground” parties in Puerto Rico — and commercials at Paradiso Films.

That changed when López Mari’s superior, Sigfredo “Freddy” Bellaflores, heard his young son, Sigfredo Jr. — who would go on to produce videos for Bad Bunny — listening to Tego Calderón’s music in the shower. The next day, Freddy came into the office and threw the Calderón CD at López Mari.

“ ‘If you can reach that guy, we’ll do a video for him for free,’ ” López Mari recalled Freddy telling him. “ And I’m like, OK, I’ll get that guy.”

A few days later, López Mari used his party-producing connections to set up a meeting with Calderón’s team, which told López Mari he could pick the song off Calderón’s debut album, since Paradiso Films was financing the video; the team then asked him to meld another song, “Gracias,” into the visual.

“ That’s why the video is a six-minute piece,” said López Mari. “Back in the day, the reggaetón videos would be two or three songs in each video.”

The young director scouted the location, created the storyline to connect the two songs and presented the treatment to Calderón. Soon afterward, López Mari shot his first music video.

“It was a big phenomenon,” he said. “When that came out, Tego was like a rocket going up to the moon.”

Ricky Martin, “Tal Vez” (2003)

Filmed in Buenos Aires

López Mari co-directed this video with Carlos Pérez, his childhood friend who would later direct the video for Luis Fonsi’s “Despacito.” Both 20-somethings at the time, López Mari and Pérez, recruited a “dream team” to execute it — including Andrzej Sekula, cinematographer for “Pulp Fiction” and “Reservoir Dogs,” as well as Brigitte Broch, Oscar-winning production designer and art director for “Amores Perros” and “Romeo + Juliet.” The editor was Jeff Selis, the most nominated editor in the history of the MTV Video Music Awards.

Ricky Martin needed ample star power for what would be his first Spanish release since “Livin’ La Vida Loca.” Martin liked López Mari’s treatment so much that he would commission the same crew to make the video for 2003’s “Jaleo.”

Daddy Yankee, “Gasolina” (2005)

Filmed in Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic

Released pre-YouTube, the original video for “Gasolina,” the lead single off Daddy Yankee’s 2004 album “Barrio Fino,” maximized MTV’s four-minute allotment by mixing in two additional songs into the same visual: “No Me Dejes Solo” (which featured Wisin y Yandel) and “King Daddy.”

Yet when the song blew up, Daddy Yankee needed a longer video — and fast. However creatively edited, the visual actually loops the minute-and-a-half of material originally shot, making it a controversial piece for the co-directors.

In a phone interview, Pérez said that he values the song’s cultural and historical impact, but the video “never felt reflective of our work.” López Mari agreed it wasn’t his finest piece, but it did introduce the world to reggaetón and helped establish an aesthetic for the genre.

Calle 13, “Adentro” (2014)

Filmed in Arizona and Puerto Rico (Barriada Morales in Caguas and Cantera Roca Dura in Manatí)

From Calle 13’s final album, the video for “Adentro” earned López Mari a Latin Grammy nomination for best short form music video. In it, frontman René Pérez Joglar, or Residente, raps regretfully about buying a Maserati as baseball legend Willie Mays hands him a bat, which he then uses to smash the car. It’s later pushed off a cliff.

“For me, it’s a work of art,” said López Mari. “It’s basically a piece to destroy a half-million-dollar car — that [Residente] bought as an anti-capitalist statement.”

Calle 13, “Multi_Viral” featuring Julian Assange, Kamilya Jubran, Tom Morello (2014)

Filmed in the West Bank

Art is a weapon for López Mari and Calle 13, who sympathized with the Palestinian struggle. López Mari told me he considered the “Multi_Viral” video, which was filmed in the West Bank in 2013, was “one of the most important projects” he’s ever worked on.

The video follows Palestinian children as they build a guitar from parts of a gun. Rage Against the Machine guitarist Tom Morello, who’s featured on the song, joined them onset in the West Bank. López Mari’s brother, Santiago “Chago” Benet Mari, who served as deputy photographer, told me how filmmaking has taken him and his family places he would have likely never otherwise visited.

“Film is a universal language,” said Benet Mari.

Calle 13, “Ojos Color Sol” featuring Silvio Rodríguez (2014)

Filmed in Buenos Aires

“Ojos Color Sol” was filmed the same day as the memorable 2014 World Cup semifinal match in which Germany thrashed Brazil, 7-1, so concentration levels onset were “fragile” among die-hard soccer fans that day, López Mari recalled.

Still, López Mari’s video would go on to win him his first Latin Grammy for best short form music video, alongside Tristana Robles, López Mari’s life partner, as well as the producer and co-founder of Filmes Zapatero. The song featured Cuban musical legend Silvio Rodríguez, and the video starred Golden Globe Award-winning Mexican actor Gael García Bernal and Spanish actress María Valverde, who share a powerful kiss.

Juanes, “Loco de Amor (La Historia)” (2014)

Filmed in Puerto Rico (San Juan, Río Piedras, Bayamón)

The 16th annual Latin Grammy Awards were historic. After “Ojos de Sol” won best short form music video, “Loco de Amor (La Historia)” won best long form music video — a 16-minute project visualizing four of Colombian superstar Juanes’ songs. This made López Mari the winner of both categories in the same night — a feat never accomplished before or repeated since.

“I like the aesthetics of [López Mari]’s work and his way of working,” Juanes told the San Diego Union-Tribune in 2014.

Calle 13, “La Vida (Respira el Momento)” (2015)

Filmed in Salinas, Puerto Rico

“La Vida (Respira el Momento)” was the final video López Mari released with Calle 13 before they disbanded. It featured López Mari’s daughter and nephew, Residente’s nephew, as well as pro boxer Miguel Cotto and MLB player Ángel Pagán. But there’s an even buzzier person who makes an appearance in this video — filmmaker, actor and poet Jacobo Morales, the director behind the 1989 film “Lo Que le Pasó a Santiago,” the only Puerto Rican film to earn an Oscar nomination to date.

Morales sits down in the middle of a road to look through a handful of photos, reflecting on his life’s most precious moments — inadvertently foreshadowing his later role in videos from Bad Bunny’s 2025 album, “Debí Tirar Más Fotos,” such as “Baile Inolvidable,” which were also directed by López Mari.

Juanes, “Mis Planes Son Amarte” (2017)

Filmed in Mexico (Veracruz, Mexico City and its outskirts) and Medellín, Colombia

“Mis Planes Son Amarte” directly translates to “My Plans Are to Love You.” A play on words in Spanish, it could also be heard as “My Plans Are to Mars.” Using that double meaning, Juanes and López Mari innovated what’s considered to be Latin music’s first major visual album (every song has a video): a one-hour film of 12 songs that follows Juanes’ character as an archaeologist and astronaut, exploring the dimensions of life and love.

Chayanne, “Di Qué Sientes Tú” (2018)

Filmed in Mexico City

In 2018, López Mari added the actor and pop balladeer Chayanne to his roster of Puerto Rican icons he’s collaborated with. For the making of Chayanne’s music video for “Di Que Sientes Tú” (Say What You Feel), López Mari took the crew to Mexico City.

“It came at a time when I was falling in love with books again,” said López Mari. “I was surrounded by literature [by Gabriel García Márquez], [Jorge Luis] Borges, Luis Rafael Sánchez — and that literary energy made its way into the set. It all came together in a way that was beautiful and poetic.”

Bad Bunny, “Callaíta” (2019)

Filmed in Puerto Rico (Arecibo, Hato Rey neighborhood of San Juan, Guaynabo)

In the first of many collaborations between Bad Bunny and López Mari, they created a “dream-like atmosphere” of summertime in Puerto Rico. In a 2023 video interview with Vanity Fair, Bad Bunny said it successfully conveyed the feeling of a “hug.” Bad Bunny also said he knew the actress, Natalia L. Garcia, was the right woman for the project as soon as he saw her.

López Mari discovered Garcia on Instagram. “I [loved] her look,” he said. “She reminded me of Uma Thurman in ‘Pulp Fiction’ because of the haircut.”

López Mari’s brother Benet Mari, served as the director of photography — and happened to have the resources to get a carousel on the beach. “Everything was perfect,” said López Mari, calling it a “beautifully executed video” that hit all the notes and goals of marrying image and song.

Don Omar, Residente, “Flow HP” (2021)

Filmed in San Juan, Puerto Rico, and Los Angeles

In the video for their first-time collaboration, “Flow HP,” Don Omar and Residente, both Puerto Rican industry veterans, amplify their pride for the motherland by rapping in front of the island’s flag, resulting in an unforgettably powerful visual. López Mari and Residente actually directed the video together.

Bad Bunny, “El Apagón — Aquí Vive Gente” (2022)

Filmed in Puerto Rico (San Juan, Güajataca, Rincón)

“[Taylor Swift] fills it [her videos] with Easter eggs,” said López Mari. “So, what does Benito do? He fills it with Puerto Rican history.”

In nearly six months, López Mari and his team worked to produce what began as a Bad Bunny video and expanded into a hard-hitting documentary. In collaboration with Puerto Rican investigative journalist Bianca Graulau, the short film shed light on the recurring blackouts in Puerto Rico after 2017’s Hurricane Maria and how the government’s lackluster recovery efforts exacerbated the greater infrastructural crisis — all of which they strongly consider to be byproducts of U.S. colonialism.

(Fun fact: This video also featured clips from López Mari’s directorial debut with Calderón.)

Juanes, “Canción Desaparecida” featuring Mabiland (official video) (2023)

Filmed in Medellín, Colombia, and rural outskirts

In this video, Juanes and singer-MC Mabiland call to mind more than 121,000 people forcibly disappeared between 1985 and 2016 in their native Colombia. After long shying away from political and social content that colored his first album, Juanes knew he wanted to make an impactful video with López Mari, who felt connected to the story because of his own political inheritance.

Bad Bunny, “Baile Inolvidable” (2025)

FILMING LOCATION: San Juan, Puerto Rico

Normally, López Mari listens to a song several times before he writes a treatment for the direction of a music video. Yet for “Baile Inolvidable,” he only got to listen to it once. He happened to be in the room when Bad Bunny presented the album “Debí Tirar Más Fotos” to Apple Music executives and his crew for the first time.

López Mari says he met with Bad Bunny weeks later, in the Río Piedras music studio where the artist had recorded the song. There, López Mari presented his storyboard drawings and location ideas for the video and listened to the song “like 20 times,” he said.

López Mari shot the dance class portion at the Arthur Murray Dance Studios, a famous school for classic salsa in San Juan. The live performance portion of the video was filmed at the University of Puerto Rico’s auditorium, where Robles and López Mari had recently creative directed a Concert for Energy Independence for Casa Pueblo.

“As every artist evolves, the same happens to us directors,” said López Mari. “We keep learning… [And] hopefully, more videos will be made that are more relevant, [that] contribute more to the cultural exchange, [and] that aren’t just a bunch of flashy visuals and bells and whistles.”