Sexualisation of women impossible to ignore

After a few years of releasing pop in English, she turned to the Spanish-speaking urban market, a space that has long been mired in misogyny. But after years of backlash, reggaeton rappers have cleaned up their act to appeal to radio listeners, which has, at least marginally, created a cultural consciousness around the treatment of women in urban music. (Puerto Rican reggaeton star Don Omar even called out Latin trap for being too explicit.) When Gomez started working with male rappers, she says she found a surprisingly welcoming group that, post-“Despacito,” wanted to collaborate and root for Latino success.

“I’m friends with Balvin and Maluma, and when I’m hanging out with Bad Bunny, I’m not looked down upon,” she said. “The industry already does that — there’s this double standard where guys can and girls can’t. But to see artistes support each other, male or female, is a big step.”

This sense of camaraderie is still not regularly reflected in the music itself, where the sexualisation of women remains impossible to ignore, especially in songs where female artistes feature with men. Becky G had to reckon with fans alarmed by her risque image in the video for “Mayores” while Karol G faced criticism because Bad Bunny’s explicit verses in “Ahora Me Llama” seemed to be a brutal contradiction to her empowering message.

For Karol G, the song was about representing a woman’s perspective and standing toe to toe with a man — something rarely done in Latin urban music, apart from the masterful efforts of the inimitable Puerto Rican reggaeton icon Ivy Queen.

“I wanted to make a trap song where a guy was talking about the men’s viewpoint, and I could raise up the women and talk about theirs,” Karol G said. “You hear me, despite what he’s saying, telling him that I’m a free woman, I have my own squad and I’m moving up.”

But artistes such as Danay Suarez say there won’t be a true shift in the industry until women push for new narratives in music. Suarez has worked quietly in her native Havana for 10 years, writing socially conscious rap that reflects personal stories about life in Cuba. She was an underground sensation until her album “Palabras Manuales” helped her score four Latin Grammy nominations in 2017, kindling hope that women creating political and polemical work — like the perennially beloved Spanish rapper Mala Rodriguez and the up-and-coming Mexican emcee Nia Dioz — could achieve more commercial attention.

“Everyone expects certain things from a young artiste — nudity, more sensual songs, more sexuality — and I think what’s missing sometimes, that I try to show, is music that goes into your emotions and your spirit, and goes against what people are used to,” she said.

One tactic artistes have used to change the script: joining forces with other women. Nina Dioz partnered with Polaris Music Prize-winning musician Lido Pimienta and Tijuanaborn singer Ceci Bastida for “Tambalea,” a song that discusses Mexico’s “femicidios” (massacres of women) and the experiences of queer women.

Becky G, who teamed up with Karol G and the singers Leslie Grace and Lali for a recent remix, has dreams of large-scale, girlpower collaborations (“A ‘Lady Marmalade’ or something like that would be so cool,” she says.)

Karol G, who extols the talents of such contemporaries as Natti Natasha, Farina and Becky G, says that a stronger sisterhood is a sign of changing times.

“The music is evolving, the mentalities are evolving,” she said. “Machistas are out of style.” — WP-Bloomberg