9th December, 1989

There's something about Los Bukis that makes it hard for me to even want to grapple with their music. Not hard to listen to their music — it goes down easy, just like it was made to — but to pay attention to it and consider it and give it due weight and render a fair and sober judgement. This isn't even about how I don't like it. I like it fine! Or I would if I had any thoughts about it at all. Instead I spent their last appearance talking about them (not the song) and now I'm spending this one talking about me (not the song).

As has become my habit, I translated the lyrics into English in a Notepad document before opening this post, just so I could make sure I wasn't missing anything important. I wasn't — they're standard bleeding-heart lyrics about the anguish of unrequited love, with one or two nice images and a whole lot of standard lines. I bet this is a great song to blast at full volume in your room or your car when la única chica no te quiera, but without that motivating emotional hook, it only rings bombastic and faintly ridiculous to me now.

This is the third ballad in a row with an electric guitar solo, which means I'm pretty dumb, but it also means that we're definitely turning into the 90s now. I remember early-90s ballads as being chock full of pointless electric guitar solos (most egregiously on the Vanessa Williams/Brian McKnight duet "Love Is"), and at least as far as Latin Pop goes, that's looking like a trustworthy memory.

And I think that's all I have to say. Next time I'll try to talk about the actual music; I just have to post this so I can get past it and jump-start this blog again.

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