Living off grid w jake nicole driver#

Horndoggery is a hallmark of the Bad Bunny brand. His 2020 El Último Tour del Mundo became the first Spanish-speaking album ever to reach number one on the Billboard global chart, a feat he repeated with the ubiquitous Un Verano Sin Ti. His mounting success sent the essential message that “crossing over” should not demand the compromise of his native Spanish-specifically, in his consonant-cutting Puerto Rican dialect.

Martínez has built his solo career on the idea that Latin music is limitless-he pays homage to mambo, merengue, bomba, and bachata while creating provocative mixes with punk, grunge, EDM, and dembow his 2018 debut album, x100pre, a stylized expression of por siempre (“forever”), featured both Ricky Martin and Drake. He rapped 99 percent en español, a choice that would become more potent with time. He first left when he was 17, and he says “it was like crossing a frontier.” By 2018, a baby-faced Bad Bunny was rendezvousing with Cardi B and J Balvin on “I Like It,” which hit number one in America. When Martínez was growing up, traveling to the capital of San Juan from his hometown, almost 30 miles east, was a special occasion. “God is everywhere,” he told me, “so why do I need to go to church?” He landed his first record deal. His origin story carries a hint of the divine, though Martínez doesn’t attend Mass anymore. What happened next is legend: While enrolled at the University of Puerto Rico at Arecibo, where he studied communications and bagged groceries at Econo on the side, one of his songs-“Diles” (“Tell Them”), a braggadocious track about his sexual prowess with a reverent nod to female pleasure-caught fire. He anointed himself Bad Bunny after an infamous-among-his-family Easter photo. Influenced by his mother’s penchant for pop, his father’s traditional taste for salsa and merengue, and his personal pull to Latin trap, in 2016, he began uploading his own songs to SoundCloud. “He was always a very smart kid, too-super funny and outspoken.” “Benito was the class clown,” says Jomar Dávila, his personal photographer and friend since age 11. Those neon briefs and bedazzled belts laid the groundwork for Bad Bunny’s eventual ascent of the Met Gala steps in a Burberry boiler dress, or in backless Jacquemus, his white rosette cape scraping the carpet. “I liked everything-the creativity, the characters, the fact that each wrestler has his own entrance song, like a soundtrack that identifies you,” Martínez explains. Lucha libre captivated all three boys, perhaps explaining why, even now, Martínez does not consider himself too prestigious to moonlight as a WWE star, appearing to slam a guitar into Mike “The Miz” Mizanin at Wrestlemania. “I am a person who always liked to live in my own world,” he says. The son of Ocasio, a teacher, and Tito Martínez, a truck driver, Benito Antonio eschewed sports, preferring to play-wrestle with action figures his little brothers, Bernie and Bysael, hatched storylines for each toy. “God is everywhere, so why do I need to go to church?” Even the seemingly offhand “ eys” that punctuate his songs are filled with pathos. Though he’s popularly known for spitting staccato beats, listen closely and his discography reveals an expansive, confident range. Church was hot and boring, but it affirmed his passion for music at a foundational age. “I learned that I was the best in the choir and I worked the hardest,” he says, laughing, though he’s not kidding. There are days where I feel like I can’t handle my own life, you know what I mean?”ī efore Bad Bunny was Bad Bunny, he was actually a very good bunny: choirboy in the Catholic church where his mother, Lysaurie Ocasio, served as a devout congregant. “There are days where I feel strong and powerful,” but from time to time, he says, “I feel vulnerable. “It is too much and your mental health can be impacted,” Martínez says when I ask about his well-being. His trademark septum piercing is conspicuously missing-he wanted to change it up, he said, to be more relaxed.

Living off grid w jake nicole driver#

The only stealth hints at his global superstardom-other than the fact that my cab driver just declared his fealty-are a few diamonds here and there, including on the face of what looks like a women’s Chanel watch on his wrist.

He has piano fingers, a cropped circle beard, and pristine teeth. His thicket of curls is topped with a backward snapback. He’s been wearing the same outfit every day for days-a striped polo, moisture-wicking shorts, and squishy slides, all in buttery shades of beige. “I’ve eaten about 70 croquetas,” he tells me in Spanish as still more plates arrive. On this tropically humid Monday in July, however, it is still his so-called year of relaxation.