songs

This Saturday will mark five years since Juan Gabriel died.

Of course, the iconic singer songwriter — real name Alberto Aguilera Valadez — isn’t really dead.

His body may no longer be with us, but how can someone who meant so much to people of Mexican heritage on both sides of the border cease to exist?

It’s impossible to sum up the full impact that Gabriel has had on generations of Mexicans and Mexican Americans. It’s more than the songs or the stage persona or the me vale attitude to what you thought about his sexuality. It’s the fact that for many of us he’s a connection to our families (raise your hand if your mom made you clean the house while blasting his music), to our homeland and to our culture. He gave us a shared language that affords us the opportunity to rejoice or grieve as a community.

There are profiles written about the man that are worth your time — I recommend this one published in The Times in 1999 — but for this newsletter we turned it over to our community to tell us how El Divo de Juárez forever changed their lives.

Juan Gabriel and the LGBTQ community

Juan Gabriel when asked if he was gay: “Lo que se ve no se pregunta”

(Julio Salgado / For The Times)

Luis Octavio remembers the first time he saw Gabriel. He was sitting with his family and the singer was about to perform on the weekly Mexican variety show “Siempre en Domingo.”

But all he could focus on was the sequins Gabriel was wearing.

“It gave me a little bit of hope that maybe my jotería would be accepted just the way my abuela, my abuelo, the tíos and everybody else who saw him on that screen accepted his and saw past his flamboyance,” said Octavio, co-founder of the drag bar El Place and one of the organizers of Boyle Heights’ first pride event.

Gabriel’s sexual orientation has always been an open secret. It has always been assumed that he was gay, but it was rarely discussed, with one glaring exception.

During a 2002 interview with news program “Primer Impacto,” reporter Fernando del Rincón asked Juanga point-blank if he was gay. With daggers in his eyes, Gabriel responded with “Lo que se ve, no se pregunta.” What is seen is not asked.

Octavio told me this interview always stood out for him — he described it as iconic, which, yeah, it is — because it told Mexican queer people that being who they were was more than enough and that you didn’t owe anything to anyone.

It’s a sentiment that Nomi B, a drag queen who hosts “Noche de Gringaderas” at El Place, certainly relates to.

“We all knew he was a sister,” she said.

“I admire that he kept his life private and he was like, ‘I don’t care what you think or say about me. I’m going to keep my life private and you’re going to enjoy my music no matter what.’”

‘Abrázame que el tiempo es malo y muy cruel amigo’

In 2000, Juan Gabriel released “Abrazame Muy Fuerte,” an operatic banger that makes the case that time is cruel, unforgiving and finite for humans. Because of this, he begs his subject to pend much of that time embraced in each other’s arms. The song was a huge hit and was used as the theme song for a telenovela that shared the same name.

A few years later, it also became my parents’ song.

Around that time, my mom developed a brain tumor. The doctors didn’t know yet if it was malignant, but my family assumed the worst. The prospect of losing our anchor became very real. My dad took it the hardest, and because he is the embodiment of the closed-off macho who tries very hard not to emote, he didn’t have an outlet to let out what he was going through.

So he did what any Mexican would do: He turned to Juan Gabriel.

I was away at college when this happened, but my sister would tell me that he’d play the song nonstop, sometimes sitting next to my mom on the couch with his eyes closed in prayer. It must’ve worked because the tumor ended up benign. Decades later, my mom is the healthiest she’s ever been.

During the pandemic, that song took on an added meaning for me. It was late last year and my parents and I decided to take a road trip. “Abrazame Muy Fuerte” came on. All three of us started singing along, and it wasn’t long before we started bawling. The painful memory came back, but with it came the realization that we still had time and we were spending it together.

That’s the thing about Juan Gabriel’s music. These aren’t just songs. They’re memories. They’re feelings we can’t express, and even if we could, why would we when Juanga’s already done it better?

When I decided to write about Gabriel, I knew that I wanted others to share some of their favorite songs. I asked friends and colleagues to contribute a song for this Spotify playlist and to write a few lines about why they picked that tune.

Artist Julio Salgado: “I wanted to illustrate a mom teaching her son to clean while listening to Juan Gabriel. I totally took this from my own experience as my mom had no tolerance for boys just sitting around and not cleaning when we were growing up.”

(Julio Salgado / For The Times)

“Querida”— He’s just so dramatic! Like, “Yes, b—!” (Nomi B, drag queen)

“Amor Eterno” — If there’s a song that defines who Juan Gabriel is, it’s “Amor Eterno.” Since he wrote the song for Rocio Durcal, it’s Juan Gabriel as a song writer. As a singer, his emotion has made it the quintessential Mexican song about heartbreak, regret, and ultimately, trying to make sense out those emotions. With the song’s lyrics and emotions — along with Juan Gabriel being from the Juárez-El Paso borderland — it’s little wonder why “Amor Eterno” was played and sang everywhere in the days following the El Paso massacre. (Roberto José Andrade Franco, writer-at-large at Texas Highways)

“La Frontera” — When I first moved to the U.S. I felt like I didn’t belong here because I didn’t speak perfect English and nobody could pronounce my name. Listening to that song and how he talked about how everybody’s happy at the border and how everyone’s different, it made me feel safe. (Luis Octavio, co-founder of Boyle Heights drag bar “El Place”)

“Inocente Pobre Amigo” — Juan Gabriel was the first poet in my life, a staple at my parents’ home in South Gate, California. My mother owned all of his albums. And when I went away to study literature at the University of Chicago, I took them with me.

I was back in California, walking around in Boyle Heights, when he passed. I got the news alert. Then, all along César E. Chávez Avenue, shop owners blasted his songs. Juan Gabriel wrote hundreds. I know all of them.

For beginners, I recommend “Inocente Pobre Amigo,” which recounts a heartbreaking disillusion but, above all, is a song about valuing yourself. Go on YouTube. Find the version that was recorded during Juan Gabriel’s first concert in Mexico City’s Palace of Fine Arts. Watch him perform with his hands on his hips, glistening in black and gold sequins. Hear him crack jokes with the audience and watch the mariachis on stage try to muffle their laugh. Recall that some elitists thought his work was too lowbrow for the venue.

When Juan Gabriel passed in 2016, his ashes were taken to that same place. For hours on end, hundreds of thousands of people poured in to pay their last respects. I wish I’d been one of them. (Julia Barajas, Los Angeles Times staff writer)

“El Noa Noa”— It’s a song about a place where you can go and be who you are. The ambience of the bar might be different than what people are used to, but it’s about everyone being welcomed and letting them feel like they can be happy. (Melissa Befierce, Mother of Haus of Befierce and events coordinator at El Place)

“No Tengo Dinero”— For me, Juan Gabriel’s songs are tied to memories of me riding on my grandfather’s truck with my aunt and my grandmother on the roads of Campeche where we lived for a few years. Juan Gabriel’s “No Tengo Dinero” is one of his iconic songs because for many it’s always a struggle to have money, but if at least we have love, we know we’ll be alright. (Denise Florez, Los Angeles Times multiplatform editor)

“Have You Ever Seen the Rain? (Gracias al Sol)” — My mom and tías have always been huge Juan Gabriel fans. I grew up in El Paso and he of course has immensely close ties to Juárez, where his career took off. His music is the soundtrack of my childhood. There was a brief time when it was around so much, it annoyed me. But when I moved away from home, that soundtrack became so powerful and comforting. It instantly connected me with my family. My sister, mom and I have sung (poorly) along to “Querida” hundreds of times at this point. But that’s going to be almost everyone’s favorite song. It’s just kind of perfect JuanGa. But the one I’ll choose for this playlist is what I believe is the only cover he ever did: “Have You Ever Seen the Rain? (Gracias al Sol).” In the video, he’s wearing amazing rainbow-colored pants and having so much fun. He brings joy to his work and it’s infectious. He’s also a great singer, so it stays on my playlist along with the much older hits. (Iliana Limón Romero, Los Angeles Times deputy sports editor)

“Hasta Que Te Conocí” — Later brilliantly covered by Ana Gabriel, it is the perfect song about love gone sour, heightened by lyrics that are pure melodrama. (Carolina Miranda, Los Angeles Times columnist)

“Así Fue” — He was never more brilliant, more heartbreaking, more JuanGa than in that song. (Gustavo Arellano, Los Angeles Times columnist)

“Costumbres” — Here’s an extremely on brand story: During one of my family’s chaotic Christmas parties, we were all doing what we usually do⁠—drinking tequila and singing along to a playlist of Juan Gabriel, Rocío Durcal, Alejandro Fernández and, well, you know the vibes. As always, “Costumbres” comes on, the Rocío version, and my trash-talking sister starts to sing loudly, drunkenly, and off-key: No cabe duda que es verdad que la costumbre es más grande que el amor. She looks at me and says, “That’s f— real, dude. La costumbre really is más grande que el amor.” She then scowls at her husband across the room and screams over the music, “F— you, [name redacted]!”

That is the power of “Costumbres.” That’s actually the power of 99.9% of songs written by Juan Gabriel. However, “Costumbres” is god-tier in his canon of songs that have an unbelievable ability to drag your soul. We dance to “Noa Noa,” weep to “Amor Eterno,” raise our arms up to “Querida,” and strongly consider divorce to “Costumbres.”

“Costumbres” is sung from the perspective of a person telling their partner their love has been replaced by resentment, but habit and the comfort of a warm, familiar body keeps them together no matter how many times they try to walk away. Juan Gabriel’s love songs have an uncanny ability to swim in the thick nuances of romance, its brutal pains and exhilarating joys, and as is the case with “Costumbres” the harsh realities of committing your life to someone. He seemingly had a direct line to our deepest fears about love, and expressed poetically something even as mundane as being over it but staying anyway. To quote my sister, that’s f— real, dude. And it’s why “Costumbres” along with so many other songs he penned are elevated to a place of cultural veneration and soundtrack of the most affecting moments of our lives. (Alex Zaragoza, senior culture writer at Vice)

Fernandomania @ 40: El Campeón.

The latest installment of our multi-part documentary series “Fernandomania @ 40” is out today. You can watch here.

When Fernando Valenzuela took the mound in Game 3 of the 1981 World Series, the New York Yankees had a commanding 2-0 lead over the Dodgers and Tommy Lasorda’s crew was facing the real possibility of a third World Series loss in five years to their East Coast rivals. In the end, the Dodgers won the game, 5-4, largely due to the gritty performance of their rookie left-hander. Valenzuela gave up nine hits and seven walks in a 146-pitch complete-game, spurring the team to a World Series victory and cementing his pitching legacy in Los Angeles.

Missed an episode of “Fernandomania @ 40”? You can find them all here.

Yesterday was the MLS vs. Liga MX All Star Game at the Banc of California Stadium near downtown Los Angeles, but the most important soccer match that took place that day happened hours earlier at a park in Pasadena. That’s where members of the #LigaMXEng community got together to celebrate the beautiful game (and come to terms with how out of shape many of us actually are).

What’s #LigaMXEng? It’s a Twitter hashtag where podcasters, reporters, and fans from around the country congregate to talk about Liga MX, the most popular soccer league in the United States. More importantly, it’s entirely in English, the primary language for many of us. It’s that last part that does it for me.

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.