💡 Get Philly smart 💡
with BP’s free daily newsletter
Read the news of the day in less than 10 minutes — not that we’re counting.
💌 Love Philly? Sign up for the free Billy Penn newsletter to get everything you need to know about Philadelphia, every day.
On Monday I told my roommate we were going to see Bad Bunny.
With no seats and no preconceived plan, I was on a mission. You might call it manifesting. I saw myself at the Puerto Rican trap star’s concert, and was going to do everything possible to make it happen.
One scalper scam and several phone calls later, I was officially Bad Bunny bound. Walking to the BSL, part of me didn’t believe it was true. I held my breath as the security guard at the Wells Fargo Center scanned our tickets. Once we walked into the arena, it finally sunk in — we made it!
For many, Bad Bunny needs no introduction. The Grammy-award winning artist, known for his outspoken politics and nonconformist style nearly as much as his music, is currently on tour for his third studio album.
“El Último Tour del Mundo” — which currently has the top box office gross worldwide — travels across North America from February to April, and the stop in Philadelphia had fans perreando toda la noche.
In advance of the show, local nonprofit Walls For Justice partnered with Rumba 106.1 and iHeartMedia to commission artist Jamee Grigsby to create a Bad Bunny x Philly mural. It highlights Philadelphia faves, like the Love Park sculpture, and draws from Puerto Rican influence, including the flag and national flower, the Flor de Maga.
Even if you missed the concert, you can still use the Bad Bunny virtual photo booth with frames inspired by the original Walls for Justice artwork.
DJ Orma, who tours with Bad Bunny on the regular, opened the show with a mix of reggaeton classics and new songs, playing everything from “Yo Quiero Bailar” and “Bandoleros” to “Medallo” and “La Mamá de la Mamá.” He also plugged the tour’s concert after party at The Ave Live on Delaware Avenue.
Singing along, I calmed down from my initial excitement. An hour and a half passed, and I was more than ready for Bad Bunny.
The lights turned off, my bracelet started shining a bright red color, and a black semi-truck appeared on stage, blasting fire. I held onto my roommate as we waited for the show to start.
I was rewarded when the man of the hour burst on to the scene singing “Booker T,” one of my favorites.
The only way I can describe the next two hours of my life is perreando hasta la muerte. Mesmerizing visual effects, the loud roar of a crowd, and ass-shaking so violent it could start an earthquake. This really did feel like it was el último tour del mundo.
In between songs, Bad Bunny talked with the crowd, and even though about 75% of the time I couldn’t hear what he was saying, I understood he was grateful to all of us for being there. He reminded us that “para sonreír tienes que llorar,” but said tonight was about being happy and enjoying ourselves.
It didn’t feel like I was seeing an artist; it felt like I was supporting a family member. The crowd of more than 19,000, including people from their teens to their thirties, felt like we were part of a family that came together to support someone we love, and who loved us back.
I didn’t think the night could get any better, but then — with what I believe was divine timing, at 11:11 he ended the night with the iconic trio: “Yo Perreo Sola,” “Safaera,” and “Dakiti.”
I still don’t entirely have my voice back, my ears were ringing, and I fell and scraped my knee, ruining my new leather jeans, but without hesitation I would do it again. Some friends doubted I could get into a sold out show, and all I have to say is yo hago lo que me da la gana.
