Ask any young Puerto Rican where they were and who they were with when Bad Bunny dropped his first album back in 2018. It was Christmas Eve, and to many, it was a gift to his island.

I was in a car in Puerto Rico when I listened to X 100PRE for the first time, vibrating with a childlike excitement. Within seconds, my friend who was driving stopped at a parking lot so we could fully enjoy the rhythm of each song, diving into the lyrics that appeared coded specifically for those from the island.

Since then, its become a ritual to listen to his albums on the night they drop. I listened to Un Verano Sin Ti alone in bed. YHLQMDLG was more of a community event; I hosted a listening party in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, so my Puerto Rican friends and I could devour the album together and evaluate all the tracks in detail. Despite Bad Bunnys colossal crossover into the mainstream, these memories resonate because his work will always signify something different to our community.

For those of us in the diaspora, his music is a way to connect to home. Its comforting to listen to him refer to places I used to go to when I was living on the island, said Aurora Santiago Ortiz, assistant professor of Latinx studies at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. Scholars and teenage TikTokers alike express a sense of intimacy with the music, which speaks to us as only a local can.

One line in particular from one of his early hits, T No Metes Cabra, serves as a prophecy of sorts: la nueva religin, yo soy la nueva era (the new religion, I am the new era). For Puerto Ricans, Bad Bunny has served as a cultural touchstone, but to the world now, he is a ubiquitous pop icon. The man is everywhere you look: billboards, award ceremonies, magazine covers and Hollywood . Hundreds of fans of all ethnicities inked his signature heart on their bodies to celebrate a new album.