The Singles Jukebox

In which Maxwell is the highest score… and it isn’t even Opposite Day!

[Video]
[6.14]Micha Cavaseno: This is the saddest, baddest song I think I’ll ever hear. It’s a maroon filter and VHS grain on a windswept gunfight in the wastes of the desert, with Bad Bunny and Karol G sounding like the kind of tragic sexiness that billions of dollars have been spent trying to make Rihanna and Travis Scott pull off either together or with separate reflecting pools of languishing glamour. Karol manages to sound effortlessly noble, refusing to commit to human emotions such as lust or sorrow, while the harsh scrapings of the tunnel’s edge of reverb and echo for Bunny’s ad-libs make his already stark baritone sound like alien retchings. Whether it’s hands at your throat or arms in embrace, the tension and endless plunging of dread overwhelms the record and devours not only the performers but the listener. I don’t have any joy in mentioning the trap influences or the way the human voice becomes a series of altered drones that’d make La Monte Young falter and weep. There’s little point in discussing the trappy or the Latin influences for the song. A request or demand or plea or beg, there is no mistaking a song that conjures floating of suspension in being left hanging. It is that unmistakeable, immeasurable, unbearable glide here: pinned and mounted like a butterfly who’s never allowed to land.
[10]

Thomas Inskeep: Karol G oozes sex when she sings, and trap star Bad Bunny is like a Puerto Rican version of Future. Together they hit hard on this dark, moody, pleasantly claustrophobic track.
[7]

Ryo Miyauchi: To project stony, unaffected swagger, trap-pop is your friend, which Karol G knows. She sounds self-satisfied certainly without a hint of loneliness in her preaching of the single life. But whatever fun she finds in that lifestyle, I don’t hear it from her too much. That murky cloud of trap sure neutralizes any sense of joy it comes in contact with, and it’s no different here.
[5]

Katie Gill: It’s beautifully laid back and Karol G does a wonderful job. She’s got amazing flow and effortlessly lilts over the fast bits in a way that puts other female rappers to shame. The problem here is Bad Bunny, who sounds like every other rapper out there in the game right now who’s vaguely mumblecore. When half your song brings nothing new to the table, it’s only fitting that it just gets a half score.
[5]

Will Adams: Karol G’s energy is impressive, and she elevates an otherwise gloomy trap-pop template to something with a bit more spark. I just wish Bad Bunny had hopped off sooner.
[5]

Alex Clifton: This song could be interesting, but stays so one-note throughout that it has nowhere to go (both in terms of melodic line and delivery). “I don’t care what you say,” Karol G sings as a kiss-off to an ex, but it feels like she doesn’t particularly care about the song — it feels phoned in more than anything else.
[3]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: There’s something so satisfying about hearing an artist who primarily makes reggaeton release a solid, contemporary rap song that could stand up to (if not above) stuff from America. It happened earlier this year with Argentinian artist Cazzu, but “Ahora Me Llama” is even more exciting. It’s familiar, sure, but it’s as if the neon-lit, sadboy-posturing of Travis Scott’s discography was more austere, didn’t include mood-killing ad-libs and featured an artist that didn’t rely on vocal processing and instrumentation to convey any and all emotion. Karol G sounds completely comfortable, shifting from effortlessly cool singing to triplet flows that end in self-assured drawls. Bad Bunny’s low register is a bit unusual, but he’s certainly more than competent here. And if anything, it allows the song to stand out even further.
[8]