Loyal Lobos Promotes Communal Vulnerability in 'Loba Vol. 2' EP
Photo: Elias Lopez
Loyal Lobos is part of season two of the Mastercard x OnesToWatch Artist Accelerator program. To learn more about the Mastercard x OnesToWatch Artist Accelerator program, visit here.
Reggaeton is often defined by its high-velocity rhythms and, at times, bombastic themes that don't require deep reflection—just plug-and-play party fun. Loyal Lobos looks to add a bit of mysticism to the genre, meticulously weaving introspective themes of identity and vulnerability into her new record Loba Vol. 2 EP. The new album, a short six-track collection, feels like a call of the wild, beckoning us to dig into primal instincts.
That journey toward the inner self begins with the aptly-titled opening song “Luna Llena,” which, with an ambiance befitting a tranquil full moon evening, steps into a beat with leaden piano keys that contrast with the sharp vocals of Lobos, who howls about broken promises and broken hearts. The song, drenched in trap pop, holds just enough enchantment of Latin rhythms to keep it within Lobos’ signature style.
The melancholic reggaeton continues in “Museo,” this time with more bravado in each verse and rhythmic transition, but still parading themes of love and betrayal, and the healing and remembrance of both. Almost as if submerged and coming up for air, the basslines and kick drums asymmetrically co-exist to jolt the body into movement, while the mind lapses into a trance of sensual imagery driven by Lobos’ descriptive lyrics.
“Limón,” with its a cappella beginning, catches the listener’s attention, hitting the heart with a beat drop into a dreamy soundscape. The airy, ascending sounds create a bed on which the song’s theme rests uncomfortably, since it is once again about a very primitive feeling: pain. “Es un dolor el más cabrón / Como si le echaras limón / A una cortada en el pulmón,” loosely translates to pain akin to a lemon squeeze on a wounded lung.
These very instinctive feelings of sadness and pain, in this case deriving from a broken heart, are clearly at the center of Lobos’ songs. They are treated as the most universal of experiences, even when viewed through rose-colored glasses, as is the case in “Summer En París,” where we dance our way into independence, to a disco beat and a marshmallowy bassline worth noting.
In each chorus of the track, the hands are up, the eyes are closed, and nothing else really matters in that alt-pop dream. We wake up again with “Muak Muak (Suéltame),” which again sees Lobos reflecting on someone who wronged her, backed by a spitfire rap verse from Anto <3 that would char the heart of the wrongdoer with the same velocity. The ambiance in the song creeps through each verse and chorus, preying.
Washed away by sounds of rain, “Llorar x Ti” closes the record, with a new Loyal Lobos, reborn from hurt, having shed her last tear for a love belonging to a distant yesterday. The visceral vulnerability is a refreshing theme for reggaeton, daring us to explore primal feelings that are less superficial in nature. If you focus on the pain-driven lyrics of Lobos, you may recognize, among the sounds and words, your own unison howls.
Listen to Loba Vol. 2 below:
