The 50 Best Latin Albums of 2024

Puerto Rican indie band, Los Rarxs, allow their individuality to take the lead as they masterfully wade through reggaeton, alt-rock, reggae, electro-jazz, hip-hop, pop, and everything in between. In Fruta Prohibida, the band playfully traverses themes of forbidden love, hookups, situationships, and heartbreak. All the while, the group also incorporates folkloric sounds of the Caribbean, teleporting listeners to serene balmy nights in the streets of San Juan. Fruta Prohibida reflects their extensive sonic repertoire while pushing them somewhere new. —R.A.

Since busting out of the gate as a member of Argentina’s Rip Gang collective, the relentlessly imaginative artist Saramalacara has been putting together all kinds of post-modern inventions, slashed with hyperpop, noise metal, and grunge. Her stunningly dark album Heráldica is the best kind of mayhem, bursting at the seams with textures and new ideas. With its give-no-fucks production and touches of heartbroken vulnerability, it feels a little like the goth-y, more rebellious kid sister to the brat enthusiasts out there. —J.L.

Two decades into their career, the reggaeton veterans Jowell & Randy have continued releasing raucous new albums that reinvent the genre while preserving the energy they’re known for. Their latest album, Mazorkeo.com, is no different, packed to the brim with club-ready perreo on songs like “X-100,” which blends a percussive beat with the duo’s sing-song flow. “It has that spirit that makes us who we are,” Jowell explains. —J.L.

Kamixlo exploded back onto the music scene with his most extreme album to date, using noise to splatter-paint a new approach to experimental dance music. As the British-Chilean producer mangles together industrial fuzz, dembow, techno, hip-hop, and more, he can sometimes sound like Skinny Puppy collaborating with Luny Tunes (“Pitch Black” with Isabella Lovestory is one good example of that.) Elsewhere, like on “Death Forever,” it can feel like pairing Bladee with a perreo pulse, offering a peek at the future of black leather Latin dance music. —M.H.

On Toda La Verdad Sobre Dame Área, the Barcelona duo turns out a no-skips album that finds sophistication even in the most cacophonous arrangements. They somehow blend together the sharpest edges of industrial music, synth-punk, and electronic music, resulting in songs with catchy riffs and clanking percussion — “Sempre Cambiare,” “Tú Me Hiciste Creer,” and “Esto Es Nuestro Ruido,” among the standouts. The whole album is a prime example of the best kind of noise rock, whether you’re enjoying it on the dance floor or screaming along at the top of your lungs at home.  —M.H.

After a year of headlining festivals and working with everyone from DJ Snake to Kali Uchis, it’s become clear that Peso Pluma is trying to transcend música mexicana. This couldn’t be more obvious on Éxodo, a two-disc behemoth that bridges two worlds: his roots in corridos tumbados with the allure of American rap music. He’s equally as comfortable collaborating with Jasiel Nuñez and Chino Pacas as he is with Quavo and Cardi B — a highlight is the latter’s track with Pluma, “Put ‘Em in the Fridge,” where the two trade off lines in both English and Spanish over a mariachi-trap beat. —R.C.

In an extraordinary year for Colombian rap, El Kalvo delivered the most cinematic album of the bunch with Los Tres Golpes. Instrumentals shuffle between warped vallenato and tango samples, while his bars flesh out Bogotá’s culinary (“Los Tres Golpes”) and diasporic (“Jesucristo de Maracay”) richness. Each song mythologizes the jagged Andean metropolis with imagery of neighborhood altars and overflowing chicharron carts, with El Kalvo shining at the center as a dashing urban saint. —R.V. 

The more reggaeton has evolved over the last decade, the more some fans have felt it’s lost some of its sexier edge. Omar Courtz understood the assignment and infused his debut album, Primera Musa, with the hip-grinding energy that made the genre a club mainstay. Tracks like “PIENSO EN SEXXXO,” “UNA NOTI,” and “ALOCA-T” shine because of Courtz’s catchy cadence, but they also channel the playful, seductive vibes of OG reggaeton. “DRIPPEO KBRON,” “SI TE GUSTAN LAS GATAS” and “SEX PLAYLIST1,” meanwhile, remind us that there’s no substitute for having swag and charisma, and Courtz demonstrates he has the juice to win over listeners looking for new takes on perreo. —J.A.

2024 was a banner year for mad scientists out there who wanted to fuse together experimental music and reggaeton, and few made it sound as fun or as thrilling as Mexico City’s Meth Math. Chupetones was a perfect blend of low and high brow inclinations: The core of the album is a breakneck combo of dembow and hyperpop, but it goes plenty of other directions as well. The trio dabbles with techno beats (“Cyberia”), horny pop (“Trenzas”), and slow perreo (“MySpace”), proving just how good they are at packing a sonic sucker punch and surprising their listeners. —M.H.

For Mau Y Ricky, making Hotel Caracas was a healing process more than anything. The brothers were in search of creative inspiration when they decided to venture to Venezuela, a country they hadn’t visited since they’d left as children. The trip — which  they detailed in a documentary shot alongside the album — opened a well of emotions that you can hear even when listening to the most upbeat cuts on the project: There’s resilience on the electro-sheen of “Gran Día,” endless heartache on “Vas a Destrozarme,” and tons of nostalgia, especially on the Illegales-assisted cut “Espectacular.” —J.L.

At the risk of failing the Bechdel Test, Mexican singer-songwriter Luisa Almaguer poured all her love and anguish into Weyes, an album about her many complex relationships to men. Unspooling crumbling romances (“Wey”), institutional violence (“María”), and familial rejection (“Tío Hugo”), Almaguer’s trans experience and activism inject her poetry with harrowing depth, made visceral with a throbbing alt-rock canvas crafted alongside Santiago Mijares. —R.V. 

J Noa, the 19-year-old breakout rapper from the Dominican Republic, made sure her debut project was a sharp-tongued rebuke to her haters and non-believers. In Matense Por La Corona, she brings out her undeniable pen game and signature rapid-fire verse delivery to weave together narratives that are often as vulnerable as they are tenacious. She pulls from Black American music of the past century: The LP features booming percussion, odes to Sixties soul, Nineties East Coast hip hop, plus trap, jazz, and gritty rock and roll guitar riffs. Throughout all of it, J Noa comes out swinging. —R.A.

Among a wellspring of excellent 2024 releases from Colombian label In-Correcto, La Dosis Máxima takes the cake as the most unabashedly fun. On this clash of the indie titans, folky singer-songwriter Gato e’ Monte and cumbia scientist Felipe Orjuela conceived a Latin American cornucopia of rancheras, cumbia villera, and merengue. But more surprises abound: Come for murga soccer anthems like “Promesa de Monserrate” and stay for the hungover punk pandemonium of “Pal Mercado.” —R.V. 

El Malilla has quickly become one of the leaders of the rising reggaeton scene out of Mexico — and his debut album Ñerostars further solidified the country’s unexpected musical export. Led by the catchy and viral “Dime” and “B de Bellakeo” and inspired by Arcangel and J Alvarez, El Malilla delivered lyrics brightened up with Mexican slang over classic reggaeton beats, and traded lines with other rising stars of the space, like Yng Lvcas and Ezya. This summer, Ñerostars became a club staple across Mexico City, earning him co-signs from Puerto Rican OGs Jowell y Randy and Sir Speedy, who joined him on the record. —T.M.

Each album that Roberto Carlos Lange Helado Negro makes seems to reveal a new side of him, offering a glimpse into his expansive imagination. Phasor, his eighth album, is among his most carefree and playful, allowing plenty of space for ideas and melodies to frolic. The excellent opener “LFO,” inspired by electronic pioneer Pauline Oliveros and amp master Lupe Lopez, is a subtle firework of a song and a statement in itself. Toward the end, he leaves a quiet declaration: “Y ya sé quién soy.” (“And now I know who I am.”) —J.L.

Exactly a month after unveiling the merengue-metal dystopia of El Precio de la Yuca, the ever confounding Mediopicky decided to one-up himself with a follow-up LP titled Bexaco y rico. Leaning heavily into SoundCloud genre-bleeds, the Dominican rapper-producer concocted an uproarious cocktail of techno, speed dembow, ambient, and new age wind chimes echoing the meme-fueled raving of Latin Core while leaving surprising room for dance floor introspection. —R.V.

“They don’t know how much I fought to get here,” sings Luis. R Conriquez over the strums of requinto on “Las Dos R.” The corrido bélico pioneer sings from the perspective of a cartel kingpin on the track, but the lyric also fit the overall sentiment of Corridos Bélicos, Vol. IV, a victory lap for the genre. Over a whopping 32 tracks, Conriquez effortlessly toggles between new wave corridos on “Pixelados” with Peso Pluma and “Fresas con Crema” with Fuerza Regida, adding in collaborations with favorites for the older crowd, including Gerardo Ortiz and Lenin Ramirez. —T.M.

Shortly after the death of a close friend, the veteran rapper Residente started seeing the number “313” everywhere. He began to think of it as a sign from the other side, and it inspired him to write a swelling orchestral ode to the cycles of life and a call to live in the present. The resulting track, “313,” was how Residente announced Las Letras Ya No Importan, his second solo LP that dives into other heady ideas: “Rene” is a biographical ballad that examines mental health, while “Artificial Inteligente” interrogates the intersection of technology and humanity. But across the album, what’s most impressive is Residente’s acrobatic rhymes and wordplay, showing he gets sharper with each evolution. —J.L

The singer-songwriter Elsa Y Elmar named her latest LP Palacio because she thought of the record as her own “little palace,” constructed with her deepest thoughts and feelings. Her goal was to keep the whole project breezy and carefree, like someone casually walking in and hearing her at her most vulnerable. That formula resulted in brilliantly rendered pop songs, like the soaring ballad “Drogada de Emociones,” about those first giddy moments of catching feelings, and the grunge power banger “Ké MaL,” which captures the end of a romance, when you’re ready to just be done with someone.—J.L.

Hailing from the idyllic beach town of Las Terrenas, in the Dominican Republic, Yendruy Aquinx created a masterclass in sound design and world building on the voracious, Soul. The sonic palette ebbs and flows like the ocean rush, mutating from vibe-y yacht pop through IDM and even delightful ambient breathers. Glitchy features from Diego Raposo, NMNL, and Adriel.sfx also exult the island’s ebullient electronic underground. —R.V.

Sleepless nights inspired Quevedo’s second album Buenas Noches, a starry compendium of songs that tell stories of late-night celebrations and late-night longing. With his booming voice and throaty delivery, Quevedo amps up on the energy on dancefloor bangers like the glittering “Duro”, and even adds hints of humor on “Halo,” which plays with the idea of tough-talking malianteo. But part of what makes Quevedo’s music so charming is how he balances a sense of quiet sincerity, and it works on this project as well: The title track, for example, is a tender look at how much he misses his life before fame, and it’s easily one of the best songs in his catalogue. —J.L.

If Young Miko’s debut album, Trap Kitty, made her a promising Latin trap act, Att. cemented her as a pop star here to stay and thrive. Over the album’s 16 tracks, Miko delivers smooth rap verses on “Arcoiris” and “Wiggy,” reintroduces the “Ketchup Song” to a new generation on “Wiggy,” and delivers the housey “Madre” with Villano Antillano, the perfect getting-ready soundtrack for a night out. Att. is diverse, queer love-infused perfection with hints of Y2K. —T.M.

Anchored by the massive back-to-back hits “La Víctima” and “La Diabla,” Next cemented Xavi as a innovator in an already-packed corrido scene. The album continues the 20-year-old’s mission of staying true to the genre’s roots while incorporating new sounds and skipping predictable chains and money lyrics to tell stories of love and heartbreak. “Tu Casi Algo” weaves classic corrido instrumentation with a darker vibe for an almost ska-tumbado alongside his brother Fabio Capri, and earworm “La Diabla” became an instant classic thanks to his raspy vocals and slight lisp. —T.M.

“Hot gays listen to Akriila,” moans a distorted voice on the intro to “POPPER!,” the Chilean trap star’s glitchy perreo crossover with Argentina’s Taichu. But this hedonistic mission statement runs throughout her debut LP Epistolares, swerving into shimmering K-pop on “superficial” and pummeling drum ‘n bass on “teoría del tiempo,” alongside Gianluca. Balancing excess with sober confessionals, like on the acoustic “Carta a Mi Papá,” Akriila manages to escape genre confines and deliver so much more than what’s expected. —R.V.

After expanding his sound on the 2021 LP eduardo, the brooding crooner Ed Maverick returned to what seemed like a simplified guitar and voice approach. However, this time around, he used a stripped-back sound to explore nuanced feelings and a richer vocabulary, both lyrically and musically, showing just how much he’s grown since starting out as a teen sensation. La Nube En El Jardín ends up being a one-track experiment that finds lessons in the basic, loaded with wisdom in the exquisite writing on “Valor De Más” and sonic maturity on the guitar strums of “Violento.” All of it reinforces Maverick’s place as a poet who constantly levels up. —M.H.

This ambitious debut from Puerto Rican singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist RaiNao finds the budding artist creating a refreshing blend of genres that’s all her own. RaiNao expertly moves from hyperpop (“Navel Point”) to sleek, club-ready reggaeton (“Roadhead” and “F*ck$”) before diving into R&B-infused tracks and finally landing on jazz-inflected songs filled with funky percussive rhythms like “Gualero REFF12.31.” Meanwhile, RaiNao’s strong, smooth voice carries each song to the next level. —M.G.

Since the Nineties, Latin rock has been hyper-fixated on the concept of fusion. Diamante Eléctrico’s eighth album pushes those considerations aside in favor of a lo-fi, rough-around-the-edges session of uncomplicated rock & roll, seeped in the pleasures of vocal falsetto and jagged guitars. It’s a lazy record in the best possible sense of the word, and you can hear its late-summer night vibes on the dirty rhythm loop that propels “Algo Bueno Tenía Que Tener (Bogotá)” and the influence of vintage Afrobeats on the brassy “Cargamerca.” Malhablado confirms Diamante’s standing as the hardest working band in Colombian rock.—E.L.

He’s not just worshipping at the altar of a chica tóxica; sad sierreño pioneer Ivan Cornejo is staging an emotional coup within música mexicana’s new class. Following the success of his sophomore LP, Dañado, and stellar collaborations with Becky G and Peso Pluma, the Californian star imbues his rootsy corta venas with more contrasting tones on his major label debut, Mirada. The spectral ballad “Intercambio Injusto” calls to mind the lovelorn baby blues of Billie Eilish; while the psychedelic Western romance of “Aquí Te Espero” crescendos with a rare burst of warmth, like rays of sunlight breaking through the clouds. —S.E.

What do you get when you cross rage music with sonic cacophony? The raucously sinister energy of Murió La Música, the joint mixtape between Argentinian rappers Stiffy and AgusFortnite2008. The two rappers, together making up the duo Swaggerboyz, use this project to assert themselves as the forebears of an exciting wave of underground Latin trap music, one that is both a breakneck run through regional American scenes — plugg, jerk, ringtone rap – and something entirely new. It’s not just music, but as they say on “MEJORALITO,” musica 2. —R.C.

Las Mujeres Ya No Lloran is a testament to Shakira’s relevance and dominance. She uses the album to share her massive spotlight with a diverse slate of artists, songwriters, and producers who studied from her playbook — Tainy and Albert Hype, Fuerza Regida, Grupo Frontera, and others. Opening with an assist from Cardi B, Shakira gets straight to the point with the nu-disco radio candy of “Puntería.” It kicks off a grab bag of pop genre fusions, yet Shakira manages to hold court in every song with her incisive and enduring songcraft. —S.E.

Mexican American artist NSQK’s second project is a showcase for his unbridled imagination. Structured like a late-night radio show, the LP goes through the highs and lows of trying to get over heartbreak. The excellent first track “Aún Te Pienso” sets everything up as NSQK lets out bruised rap verses about someone he’s still thinking about years later. From there, he unleashes a torrent of colors and feelings, reflecting on bad fights over hyper-cosmic beats on “Blame Game,” narrating nights with someone new on the endlessly bright “Tarde o Temprano,” and proving throughout just how much promise he has. — J.L.

The undeniable rise of Chilean reggaeton received its finest entry from beyond the gates of Santiago’s nu-Medellín hit factory with Sinaka’s Kema, a banger-stuffed study in old-school perreo that registered like a long lost Jowell & Randy project. Hailing from the small town of Quilpué, the rapper-producer’s bars double down on Chilean slang while nodding to Panamanian dancehall on “Caguama” and Boricua mixtape storytelling on “Sus Padres,” making classic codes feel new again. —R.V.

The Argentine rapper’s previous album, 2022’s Bien O Mal, was a sprawling, orchestral affair overflowing with high-profile guests. In contrast, El Último Baile is a 30-minute party record meant to keep you on the dancefloor — a brisk summation and elegy to 50 years of hip-hop culture with Trueno’s agile flow as the evening’s sole protagonist. “CUANDO EL BAJO SUENA” evokes Pitbull’s stadium-sized anthems, while “TRANKY FUNKY” reiterates Trueno’s notion of classic Nineties hip-hop as comfort for the soul. At 22, this rising star continues to rewrite the rules. —E.L.

Alchemizing grief into resilience is a tall order, but Chilean rap icon Ana Tijoux has long since proven she can do anything. On Vida, her first album in a decade, she eulogizes the untimely passing of her sister on the stirring cumbia, “Tania,” later tapping iLe for “Busco Mi Nombre,” a soaring hymn of solidarity for souls extinguished under tyranny. Enriching Tijoux’s instrumentals with reggaeton, afrobeats, and salsa, Vida is an ever necessary reminder that hope springs eternal. —R.V.

Kali Uchis has a few things in mind on Orquídeas. First of all, she wants the world to know there’s no box or category to limit Latinas sonically. She bounces from icy R&B to bright merengue to liquefied dream pop. Second, the album balances a careful mix of power and vulnerability, adding complexity to notions of Latinas beyond stereotypes as lusty sirens or spicy firebrands. But Orquídeas is also loaded with sexual agency and bad-bitch energy. She’s bolder and more forthright than ever, diving deeper into new sounds and flourishing the entire way. —J.L.

There’s been zero doubt about PJ Sin Suela’s talent, and over the last decade, the perennial fan favorite has shown how good he is at expanding his range. Still, he blew the doors off all expectations with Toda Época Tiene Su Encanto, a concept album that does a lot with just 12 tracks. PJ meditates on love — towards others, himself, and his country — and offers fans the best version of his songwriting skills and willingness to be vulnerable. Featured guests like Jorge Drexler, Ana Tijoux, Elena Rose, and Chuwi brighten the LP with their varied contributions, making Toda Época not just PJ’s greatest effort, but one of the best and most earnest albums of the year. —J.A.

Inspired by “bodhi,” the Sanskrit word for “enlightenment,” Judeline’s full-length debut Bodhiria is a dance with the divine. Endorsed by Rosalía and Tainy, the Cádiz-born newcomer brings together her Spanish and Venezuelan ancestral ties, transmuting flamenco rhythms and the flutter of joropo guitars into gossamer works of electro-pop. The percussive Maghreb influence on “INRI” speaks to the Muslim and Catholic syncretism of Andalusia, where faith and love eclipse division; and the sparkling “Brujeria!” harnesses a mystical feminine power that preceded all gods. —S.E.

Growing up in Havana, Daymé Arocena treasured the moments she spent with her father listening to the Sade cassette tapes that he kept hidden in a shoebox. Not surprisingly, her Afro-Cuban soundscapes are nurtured by neo-soul and jazzy R&B. A studious academic and virtuoso choral arranger, the Puerto Rico-based Arocena chose Alkemi as a vehicle for freeing her mainstream tendencies, dancing on the sand like a pop goddess. The result is a gorgeous mixture of body and soul, from the rumba-infused funk of “American Boy” to the healing coolness of “Suave y Pegao,” a duet with her frequent partner-in-crime Rafa Pabön. —E.L.

After finding the perfect formula for música mexicana-meets-country on last year’s Colmillo de Leche, León chose to experiment even more on Boca Chueca, Vol. 1 — and it worked brilliantly. León opted for electric guitars over acoustics on “Frené mis pies,” dabbled in ska-cumbia on “No sé,” exchanged bilingual verses with Kane Brown and Leon Bridges, and stripped things back with legend Pepe Aguilar on the emotional “Lamentablemente.” Boca Chueca highlights the vocalist’s versatility and with huge sets at Stagecoach and the Grand Ole Opry this year, he continued his mission of bringing Mexican music to everyone willing to listen. —T.M.

The world wasn’t quite ready for the international culture shock that ensued when Ca7riel and Paco Amoroso landed their funk-fueled brand of progressive trap on an unsuspecting Tiny Desk. This devilish studio debut details the Argentine duo’s sonic recipe. Ca7riel and Paco spent years honing their craft in a rock band, and their technical acumen shines on the drum ‘n bass propulsion of “Baby Gangsta” and the tall tale of sexual prowess and misfortune of “El Único.” An elaborate prank, or a work of visionary genius? Probably a bit of both. —E.L.

Beyond his reputation as a suave reggaeton star, Rauw Alejandro has proven how good he is at the art of reinvention with each album. With this year’s Cosa Nuestra, he channeled bygone eras of Puerto Rican musicians living in New York, channeling salseros of the Seventies. The buzziest example is, of course, his cover of Frankie Ruiz’s “Tú Con Él,” but Rauw brings classic energy to the rest of the project, like when he infuses bolero with R&B on the dreamy cut “Amar de Nuevo.” Whether he’s getting frisky on “2:12 AM” with Latin Mafia or speeding up BPMs with Bad Bunny on “Qué Pasaría…,” the sound here is an artist writing new chapters. —L.V.

With Por Cesárea, Dillom completed his evolution from Argentine trap troll to full blown rock-n-roll auteur. Plunging his fans into a psychological thriller of trauma (“Últimamente”), drug-addled excess (“Buenos Tiempos”), and even a jarring femicide (“Muñecas”), the result is an unflinching tour-de-force that holds a mirror to post-empathy society. Pointed parallels between gendered abuse and Latin America’s far-right upswing also made headlines, resonating across borders and class strata and engaging with poignant conversations on normalized violence. —R.V.

One of the year’s most uplifting albums, Undesastre finds the veteran Chilean singer-songwriter Gepe betting on the redeeming beauty of ethereal folktronica. He channels Paul McCartney on “Desastre,” and cherishes the sonic purity of acoustic string instruments on “Bandera de Arena” and “Paloma.” The spoken-word outros and impressive guest list — Café Tacvba’s Rubén Albarrán, Mon Laferte, Monsieur Periné — add an impressionistic sheen to an album that captures the most haunting qualities of Chile’s booming music scene. —E.L.

The weight of representing the place where you grew up can be crushing, but on Joyas del Barrio, Colombian soul singer Junior Zamora carries the responsibility with dazzling aplomb. “Salsa y Clase” praises the innate musicality of his native Cali, while “EL DIABLO VIENE X TI” recounts the gritty perils of living on the block. Adventurous forays into trap and R&B, as well as features from J NOA and N. Hardem, prove Zamora is backed by the streets and the music community at large. —R.V.

Nathy Peluso scrapped an entire album’s worth of material before recording Grasa, and this triumphant comeback rattles with the barely restrained adrenaline of an artist connecting with her true vision. Grasa gives free reign to Peluso’s maximalism: Across the album, the 29-year-old diva born in Argentina, raised in Spain, shows that she’s equally at home with hip-hop, bolero fever and Latin rock. She sounds tender on “Envidia,” downright delirious on the self-love anthem “Aprender a Amar,” then enlists the backup vocalists of El Gran Combo for a symphonic salsa revival on “La Presa,” letting her imagination transcends genres and styles. —E.L.

Since 2018, Mabe Fratti has been exploring and redefining her music, twisting it into unpredictable forms. This trend continues on the excellent Sentir Que No Sabes, an album that found a near-perfect balance between melodic composition and experimental edge. Fratti  never fears trying new things, whether its the groove on “Kravitz,” vocoder harmonies on “Quieras O No,” or trip-hop-like atmosphere in “Enfrente,” No matter the proposition, Fratti and collaborators managed to evoke sophistication, vulnerability, and excitement into one neat—yet completely inventive — package. —M.H.

On their ambitious second album, The Marias warp fuzzy synths, electric guitar, and reggaeton rhythms into emotive break-up songs that leave listeners submerged in the band’s ocean of heartbreak. Every gut-punch song and rueful meditation stings harder when you realize the subject is an inner-band break-up between lead singer María Zardoya and producer-drummer Josh Conway. The two swim around each other, trading perspectives and resentments between the vocals and production. It’s almost like a Rumours for the synth-pop internet age. —M.G.

Latin Mafia evolved from indie underdogs into Latin pop luminaries with their debut album Todos Los Días Todo El Día. The trio of brothers from Mexico City pushed their out-of-the-box thinking to new extremes in the angsty LP, chronicling their hopes, fears, and anxieties about fame into frenetic, unpredictable songs. Latin Mafia owned their subversive swagger in the punk rock of “Sentado Aquí” and the progressive trap “Qué Vamos a Hacer?” They also went for flamenco-infused reflections on “Siento Que Merezco Más” and meditative R&B of the soulful “Me Estoy Cayendo,” redefining multiple different genres on their own terms. —L.V.

Fetch your candles and palo santo: Angélica Garcia’s first Spanish-language album doubles as a rock & roll seance. Wielding her guitar and a righteous fire in her solar plexus, she calls upon generations of women before her for guidance — the first being the ancestor who inspired her prickly cumbia tribute, “Juanita.” Garcia soldiers through moments of past losses (“Color de Dolor”) and steels herself for impending heartache (“Mírame”), before thrashing into the elastic art-punk release of “El Grito.” At once a sonic and spiritual experiment, Garcia’s Gemelo is a Latin indie masterpiece. —S.E.

The latest from Puerto Rican artist Álvaro Díaz is a 20-song splurge that bristles with post-genre ambition and heart-on-sleeve intensity. Díaz opens the album with Blink 182-indebted post-breakup moaner “Te Vi En Mis Pesadillas,” and he proceeds to swerve from reggaeton to synth-y emo to hip-hop, ending it all with a rock-guitar ballad. His musical confidence recalls Bad Bunny and Tainy (who appears on the house hallucination “Fatal Fantasy”), turning his anthemic heartbreak into an artistic coming-out party from a star who has spent years working toward this moment. —J.D.