The 22 Best Songs by Latinx Artists in 2020

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Latin American and U.S. Latinx music is constantly evolving through migration, displacement, and globalization, and in 2020, it was clear that a catch-all term for genre and identity could never capture that multiplicity. The year gifted us Natanael Cano’s experiments in trap corrido, Dominican dembow courtesy of El Alfa and Haraca Kiko, electronic music from Arca and Lucrecia Dalt, and beyond—sounds that reflect the intricacy and creativity emerging from our complicated communities. Here, we’ve put together a collection of these songs in alphabetical order, drawing from our main songs list and also including a pool of additional favorites. These are the 22 best songs of 2020 by Latinx artists.

Check out all of Pitchfork’s 2020 wrap-up coverage here.

070 Shake: “Guilty Conscience”

070 Shake’s hypnotic voice makes hard things go down easier. In 2018, it was her verse on Kanye West’s “Ghost Town” that saved ye from complete, disaffected gloom. Now, on her debut LP, the GOOD Music/Def Jam recruit pours a spacey sheen over her own battles with substance abuse, heartbreak, and suicidal ideation to self-soothe, rather than self-destruct. And she does it best on “Guilty Conscience,” a big, ambient pop record that tells of a lover’s remorse after catching their partner cheating, only to reveal that they cheated first. With the sound of her vocals soaring over gauzy ’80s synths, even guilt gets its moment of grace. –Jenzia Burgos

Listen: 070 Shake, “Guilty Conscience”

Ambar Lucid: “Fantasmas”

We all live with ghosts. There’s a strange kind of accompaniment that comes with them, even when they haunt us with disquieting endurance. On “Fantasmas,” Ambar Lucid considers the tricky feelings that come with these lingering spirits. We don’t know whether it’s a past relationship or family trauma that haunts her, but a simple, doo wop-style chord progression sets the stage for Ambar to unburden herself. The tender melancholia of the teenager’s lyrics bloom with aching beauty under the command of her sweeping voice, turning what seems like a plea for relief into a recognition of the wounds she must learn to heal from. –Isabelia Herrera

Listen: Ambar Lucid, “Fantasmas”

Arca: “Mequetrefe”

Arca’s music has always challenged listeners to free themselves from the constructs of pop, embrace bedlam, and find melodies in the noise. While her earlier releases were sometimes marked by nearly impenetrable abstractions, KiCK i feels just accessible enough to draw listeners into its maelstrom of chaos. Few tracks exemplify this duality as well as “Mequetrefe,” an ode to self-expression sans shame. Losing none of the aggression and confrontation that make her records so arresting, “Mequetrefe” is buoyed by a sweet and tender string melody that’s at odds with its twitchy surroundings but at peace with itself. –Matthew Ismael Ruiz

Listen: Arca, “Mequetrefe”

Bad Bunny: “Safaera” [ft. Jowell & Randy and Ñengo Flow]

There isn’t a single wasted moment on “Safaera,” Bad Bunny’s epic homage to old-school perreo culture. The five-minute song is an all-consuming aesthetic maelstrom that is continually transforming; each beat change connects another link in a chain of references, establishing a masterful reggaetón timeline. With the energy of an intuitive DJ mix, producers Tainy and DJ Orma pieced together a whirlwind of a track as evocative for longtime fans of the genre as it is educational for newcomers. Standing confidently at the center of the saga is Bad Bunny himself. Amid the near-constant chaos of the song’s sonic shifts, he is resolute, moored firmly by his commitment to the music that he loves and the history held within it. –Sheldon Pearce

Listen: Bad Bunny, “Safaera” [ft. Jowell & Randy and Ñengo Flow]

Bad Bunny: “Yo Perreo Sola”

Perreo, as a genre, dance, and movement, has always been about power. And with “Yo Perreo Sola,” Bad Bunny offers a consent-driven treatise centering a woman’s independence on the dancefloor. The video even features the superstar donning the chains, latex, and thigh-high boots of the song’s narrator, as he exhibits a genuine desire to play with gender expression in a genre often catered to the male gaze. But “Yo Perreo Sola” also repeated reggaetón’s long-standing pattern of relegating female vocalists to anonymity; Puerto Rican rapper Nesi, who delivers its chorus with a passionate drawl, was uncredited upon the song’s release. The oversight was later rectified with a remix featuring her (this time with a credit) alongside pioneer Ivy Queen—whose legendary “Quiero Bailar” set the terms for this track—providing vindication for the caballotas who just want to dance in peace. –Stefanie Fernández

Listen: Bad Bunny, “Yo Perreo Sola”

Beatriz Ferreyra: “Echos”

Argentine composer Beatriz Ferreyra is renowned for the disorienting spatiality and shape-shifting abstraction of her electronic and tape-based work, but it’s the human scale and raw intimacy of “Echos” that startle. Recorded in 1978 but released for the first time this year, the piece is woven entirely from the voice of Ferreyra’s niece Mercedes Cornu, who died in a car accident prior to its composition. In places, the young woman’s voice flickers and trembles with playful delight, sounding impossibly alive. At other points, the melted murmurs and shimmered syllables feel soothing and psalm-like, as though the girl’s ghost is mourning herself. Listening to “Echos” is as poignant as stumbling upon a roadside shrine of flowers, candles, and photos, but Ferreyra goes beyond creating a memorial to Mercedes: She defies death itself and resurrects her niece as an aural apparition. Heard at any time in the four decades since its making, “Echos” would be touching. But in a year like this one, it breaks your heart. –Simon Reynolds