Reggaeton is everywhere. On a recent trip to Spain, I planned to escape it for a while and listen to some, oh I don’t know, music that doesn’t repeatedly sing the praises of the canine sexual position. I don’t know why I was surprised to find that there was no escaping Reggaeton. It was all over Spain as well. In the smallish city of Zaragoza, in a small village in the middle of nowhere, on a rural bus headed towards some rural destination.

I martyrize myself thinking that it’s following me. The same song is following me everywhere.

This morning I read a review of Don Omar’s concert in the Philadelphia Inquirer and I find that it’s not the same song. It’s a lot of different songs that just sound the same:

The problem with music like reggaetón, which is similar to the problems its ancestors – rap and dancehall reggae – faced in their early years, is that its beat, one of its strengths, is also one of its weaknesses.

At least 50 percent of all reggaetón singles share one of two basic beats, with variations. But after hearing just two beats for hours, even the most devoted dancers and listeners can get bored.

I was surprised to find that Reggaeton has also taken over the ears and mind of buttoned-up Spanish language journalist Jorge Ramos. From his web site:

But when I discovered the music of Don Omar and Ivy Queen and Daddy Yankee and Tego Calderón, their their infectious rhythm tore into my ears and their irreverent lyrics throttled me by the neck. And now I can’t get them out of my head.

Somehow I can’t imagine good old Jorge grinding it out to Don Omar on a dancefloor somewhere, neck throttled and all. But I’m happy to find out I’m not the only one it’s following.

Via / The Philadelphia Inquirer and JorgeRamos.com