Creative Director: Jonathan Anderson
via Dior
This blog appreciates all forms of art. Content on this blog may not be suitable for all readers. Most entries are for 18+ audience and some post are NSFW.
Creative Director: Jonathan Anderson
via Dior
Pardon the interruption
I first learned about Bad Bunny through my mom. Yes — my mom. About eight years ago, she called me, and somewhere in the middle of a conversation about her salsa class, she casually brought him up. “You know Bad Bunny, right?” she asked. “Bad Bunny?” I replied. I could hear the disappointment in her voice when she realized her son had no idea who she was talking about.
In 2020, when Bad Bunny appeared as a guest performer during the Super Bowl LIV halftime show alongside Shakira and Jennifer Lopez, I finally understood what she meant. After that, I started recognizing him in collaborations with Daddy Yankee and other artists. I may not always know the song titles, but I can recognize his voice almost instantly.
Fast forward to 2026, and now he’s headlining the Super Bowl LX halftime show. I have to admit — I loved it. His creative direction told a story about Puerto Rico and its people: their heritage, culture, struggles, and pride in being American. One moment especially stayed with me — when he wakes a boy sleeping across two chairs. That was me at that age, stretched between chairs while my parents socialized and danced late into the night. It felt familiar and deeply personal.
He celebrated the resilience of people who may not have much but live fully, loving every moment and refusing to take life for granted. His closing message on an international stage struck me with hope: “Together, we are America.”
I identify as Mexican American. Others might say I’m American with Mexican heritage. My mom would probably call me Tejano. Sometimes I feel ni de aquí, ni de allá — not fully from here or there. Like many, I learned to assimilate and embrace Anglo culture. For nearly twenty-five years, I voted Republican because it felt like a way to belong. Recently, though, I find myself questioning whether I align with the party’s embrace of Trumpism.
In the past week, I’ve felt unsettled watching political figures call for investigations into Bad Bunny’s halftime lyrics, claiming FCC violations even after they were properly reviewed. To me, it feels less about decency standards and more about shaping fear and division — suggesting that those who speak differently or look different somehow don’t belong in “America,” when what they often mean is the United States.
But America — the broader America — is a collection of cultures, languages, traditions, and music shaped by many histories. We share oceans, time zones, and a hemisphere, but more importantly, we share people.
That’s why his final message resonated with me.
Together, we are America.
Music Appreciation
I first discovered the Icelandic dream pop and indietronica band Vök during the height of the COVID pandemic. Their sound—an atmospheric blend of ethereal synths, ambient textures, and delicate vocals—immediately brought to mind the moody elegance of Portishead.
Vök was formed in Reykjavík in 2013 by singer Margrét Rán Magnúsdóttir and saxophonist Andri Már Enoksson. They rose to prominence after winning Músíktilraunir, Iceland’s annual music competition. Since then, the band has evolved into a trio, now composed of Margrét Rán, Einar Stefánsson, and Bergur Dagbjartsson.
"Waiting" is a single released by Vök in 2016. The song features shimmering synths and Margrét Rán's haunting vocals, creating a dreamy atmosphere. Lyrically, it explores themes of emotional vulnerability and the desire for connection. The composition combines electronic elements with ambient soundscapes, showcasing the band's signature style.
The music video for "Waiting" was directed by Glashier and filmed during a road trip across Iceland. The video complements the song's ethereal quality with visuals that reflect the band's Icelandic roots. The imagery captures the serene and mysterious landscapes of Iceland, enhancing the song's emotional depth.
Sources:
Wikipedia
https://www.stereogum.com/1864365/vok-waiting-video-stereogum-premiere/news/
https://grapevine.is/music/2016/03/10/9946180/
https://www.thelineofbestfit.com/features/track-by-track/track-by-track-vok-on-figure
https://news.northeastern.edu/2016/08/09/a-monster-look-at-one-students-global-co-op-in-icelands-music-scene/
https://atwoodmagazine.com/vok-2017-interview-figure/
https://www.subvrtmag.com/spend-the-love-with-mystical-icelandic-electro-pop-vok/
https://indiepulsemusic.com/2019/02/10/icelandic-electro-dream-pop-band-vok/
https://www.reddit.com/r/Hatari/comments/bvxu52/introduction_to_v%C3%B6k/
https://creative-commission.com/project/david-garrett/music-video/glashier
https://glashier.co/tag/music-video/
https://www.nordicmusiccentral.com/live-review-vok-iceland-the-deaf-institute-manchester-13th-march-2023/
https://www.imdb.com/title/tt18940118/
https://www.kexp.org/read/2016/04/14/song-of-the-day-vok-waiting/
Film Appreciation
Written and directed by Charleen Weiss and Hannes Stolpe, 40 Days is a short film that follows Grace as she mourns the loss of her brother, Finn. Over the course of 40 days, she navigates her grief while his soul searches for refuge. In a final act of closure, Grace writes her brother a letter—knowing that once she burns it, she'll have to let go and begin to move forward.
via Charleen Weiss
Music Appreciation
Alaska y Dinarama solidified their cultural impact with Ni tú ni nadie, a track included on their second studio album Deseo carnal. Although the album was released in 1984, Hispavox and Polydor issued the song as its second single in February 1985.
Written by Carlos Berlanga and Nacho Canut and produced by Nick Patrick, the song later appeared on the compilation Grandes éxitos (1994). Alaska has noted that Canut drew inspiration from 1950s Hollywood film noir, lending the song a dramatic emotional tension beneath its pop surface.
Musically, “Ni tú ni nadie” is rooted in pop but incorporates elements of baroque and progressive pop, marked by elegant melodies and layered arrangements. Alaska sings in a notably low vocal register, reinforcing the song’s mood of restraint and resolve.
The lyrics, delivered in the first person, explore the fallout of a painful relationship and the struggle to survive a breakup, insisting that neither the former partner “nor anyone else” can change the narrator. Structurally, the song follows a verse-chorus format, enriched by ringing bells, Alaska’s audible sighs in the instrumental bridges, and even a French horn—part of Deseo carnal’s broader use of wind instruments.
Commercially and culturally, the song was a major success, becoming Alaska’s second number-one single in Spain. It was proposed as Spain’s entry for the 1985 OTI Song Festival, though the idea was rejected by the selection committee.
Sources:
Wikipedia
https://www.discogs.com/release/216465-Alaska-Y-Dinarama-Deseo-Carnal
https://elpais.com/noticias/alaska-dinarama/
https://www.rtve.es/noticias/20200209/movida-madrilena-cuando-espana-dio-salto-del-blanco-negro-color/2000000.shtml
https://www.hhv.de/en-US/records/item/alaska-y-dinarama-deseo-carnal-pink-and-blue-vinyl-edition-1167982?srsltid=AfmBOop207-A5OxyARRRfE3MhTgk2DaUHMsFdOapE27w2O7P7b6Lm_-D
Dancers: La Catalina, Olga Popova, Natalia Rodikova, Irina Sapozhnikova, and Tanya Zhuravleva
via La Catalina