Residente Asks, Bad Bunny Answers: A Wide-Ranging Chat About Puerto Rican Identity, Acting & A ‘Surprise’ Musical Project

On the penultimate night of his sold-out 31-show residency in San Juan, a visibly emotional Bad Bunny stood in front of the towering “mountain” he had ordered erected on the floor of the Coliseo de Puerto Rico José Miguel Agrelot and delivered a message of love.

“Value every minute, every second that life and God gifts us,” he told the crowd of 15,000, his voice shaking at times. “Thank you, thank you. And to those who one day left Puerto Rico dreaming of coming back, and to those of us who are still here, I don’t want to leave!”

“I don’t want to leave” — No Me Quiero Ir de Aquí — the name Bad Bunny gave his Puerto Rican residency, is intrinsically tied to his album DeBÍ TiRAR Más FOToS (I Should Have Taken More Photos), a love letter to Puerto Rico and the island’s music that Bad Bunny dedicated on its back cover “to all the Puerto Ricans around the world.”

It may as well have said, “To all the world around Puerto Rico.” Since the album’s Jan. 5 release (on the eve of Three Kings’ Day, a significant holiday on the island) and since the July 11 launch of the residency, “No me quiero ir de aquí” has become a rallying cry of pride for both Puerto Ricans and the multicultural global diaspora that has seen itself reflected in Bad Bunny’s most autochthonous songs.

Just nine months after its release, the success of DeBÍ TiRAR MáS FOToS — which spent four nonconsecutive weeks at No. 1 on the Billboard 200 — has been breathtaking, particularly for an album that delves into styles like plena and salsa and that Bad Bunny describes as a labor of love with “zero” commercial expectations. Globally, it’s a phenomenon, a unifier of cultures, an incentive to dance, an enraptured call for love and celebration. It all boils down to Bad Bunny’s island, with its dichotomy of stunning natural beauty and miasma of economical issues, the place he calls home and says he “always returns to.” As his star has risen, the performer born Benito Antonio Martínez Ocasio has become the most passionate and effective ambassador in Puerto Rican history. Come February, he’ll have his biggest platform yet when he headlines the Super Bowl LX halftime show in Santa Clara, Calif.

Hundreds of thousands of fans — who can now distinguish between a plena and a salsa and know that the old man in Bad Bunny’s videos is 90-year-old Puerto Rican actor Jacobo Morales — flocked to Puerto Rico to see the residency, which ran from July to September. Once there, audiences experienced a “party de marquesina” (backyard party) set to the backdrop of the production’s massive mountain and its now-iconic casita (little house) ­— designed to resemble the houses found in a typical Puerto Rican neighborhood — built inside the Coliseo. A host of celebrities, from LeBron James to Jon Hamm, partied at the casita, and dozens of artists — including Young Miko, Arcángel, Ricky Martin and Rubén Blades — performed as guests at the show.

Among them was longtime pal Residente (real name: René Pérez Joglar), the irreverent Puerto Rican rapper known for incisive lyrics, social pronouncements and his passion for the island’s politics. In Bad Bunny, he found a similar, though gentler, iconoclast. The two became fast friends after meeting for dinner at a San Juan restaurant in December 2017 and collaborated musically on the 2019 singles “Bellacoso” and “Afilando los Cuchillos,” the latter an incendiary anti-government track released after Bunny and Residente paid a surprise nighttime visit to then-­governor Ricky Rosselló.

Rosselló would resign his post that same year, but the friendship between the two musicians has endured. After performing once at Bad Bunny’s residency and attending as a guest a second time, Residente sat down to interview his friend for Billboard. The wide-ranging conversation — which took place the day after the engagement’s penultimate show, weeks before Bad Bunny’s Super Bowl announcement — spanned nostalgia, music, film and, of course, Puerto Rican pride.

Residente: Man, I’m so pumped to be interviewing you right now. First off, I wanted to ask about your creative process behind this concert’s concept — like the mountain, the little house, flamboyán tree, the space where the cuatrista plays. Where does all that come from?

Bad Bunny: The way I work is kind of messy, but it works for me. I start with one idea, and as I go, other things pop up, and somehow everything fits together. For this show, the first thing I envisioned was the mountain. I had this fantasy of putting an actual mountain in the middle of the Choli [the Coliseo] — like someone took a chunk of the island’s center and dropped it in the Choli.

Since concerts usually need a screen, I thought of using a billboard on the mountain — a kind of ironic take on nature being disrupted. Then the team working on the mountain brought in ideas like the flamboyán tree and the banana plants. I love when people surprise me with ideas I didn’t think of.

The casita came later. You know how VIP sections are sometimes awkward, with all the celebrity stuff? I wanted to flip that and make it fun, interactive and cool. So the VIP became Stage B — the house from the album, Jacobo’s house, with a kitchen, a sofa, everything. It was like a party de marquesina. People could hang out, be part of the show, and I could share moments with them.

Residente: If the casita is a dream party de marquesina, who would you have loved to have there but didn’t?

Bad Bunny: I grew up with backyard parties: Christmas, birthdays, family reunions. And the vibe in the house felt just like that. The energy in the casita when [boxer Félix] Tito [Trinidad] came — it felt like the whole family was celebrating. Tito brought his entire crew — his dad, his kids, his siblings. It was like a family gathering.

Who would I have loved to have there? [Rapper] Tego Calderón, without a doubt. Not even performing — just being there, soaking in the vibe. And maybe Drake. That would’ve been crazy. Honestly, I wasn’t always aware of who was going to show up at the house. Sometimes I’d walk in and be surprised. But I loved how everyone forgot this was a show and just enjoyed the moment.

Residente: After you finish singing [DeBÍ TiRAR MáS FOToS track] “Lo Que Le Pasó a Hawaii,” the words “No me quiero ir de aquí” pop up on the screen. What does Puerto Rico need to do to keep people here — to stop them from leaving?

Bad Bunny: The long titles of my albums always have meaning. “No me quiero ir de aquí” is about not wanting to leave Puerto Rico, not wanting to leave the stage and not wanting to leave my home. People from all over the world came here; Latinos who live in the U.S. and who had to leave their countries, or their parents had to leave. It resonates with anyone who had to leave their country or even those who never want to leave.

Residente: It’s interesting how the concept of leaving and returning plays into it. It’s not just about leaving. It’s also about traveling, growing and coming back to impact your home.

Bad Bunny: Exactly. It’s not the same to leave for growth or exploration versus leaving because you have no choice.

Residente: It also connects with the concept of “Boricua en la Luna” [a poem of Puerto Rican longing by Juan Antonio Corretjer adapted into a song by Roy Brown]. Even if people are physically away, they’re still here — they’re eating arroz con habichuelas, keeping Puerto Rican traditions alive wherever they are.

Bad Bunny: Yeah, exactly. In the first visual of the show, Jacobo says, “Wherever we are, this is home. Wherever I go, I’ll always be Puerto Rican.” That’s where the deeper meaning of “No me quiero ir de aquí” starts to click.

Residente: People talk about how your residency boosted Puerto Rico’s economy, but beyond the money, the cultural, intangible value of what you’ve created is immeasurable. What do you think about the cultural impact this residency had on the island’s identity?

Bad Bunny: That’s something you can’t buy or steal. It’s one of the things that fulfills me the most. I’ve always done things from the heart, and the cultural impact is a natural consequence of that. Seeing people of all ages at the show was incredible — young kids, adults, seniors, even people in their 80s and 90s. Some of them dressed up, feeling young again, proud of their Puerto Rican identity. That’s the kind of seed this residency planted. It’s something that’ll stay with people forever, whether they’re from here or came from abroad.

Residente: OK, switching gears: When you dropped DeBÍ TiRAR MáS FOToS, it made me feel guilty for not documenting moments.

Bad Bunny: The title of that song applies to me, too. I don’t take many photos, but the meaning isn’t 100% literal. It’s about living in the moment. That’s why I give a speech in the concert where I tell people to put their phones down and take the photo in their heart. That’s the one that matters.

Residente: Yeah, sometimes the memory of a moment feels even bigger and more magical than a photo could capture.

Bad Bunny: Exactly. There’s this balance between capturing the moment and just living it. The other day, I was interacting with a fan and I went to blow her a kiss, but she missed it because she was trying to grab her phone. She lost the moment! I hope someone else saw it and told her.

Residente: You sang with Gilberto Santa Rosa and Rubén Blades. Which other salsa artist would you have loved to share the stage with? And can you give me your top five salsa legends?

Bad Bunny: Man, I would’ve loved to perform with Víctor Manuelle. We reached out to him, but his schedule was packed, so it didn’t work out. He was the first salsa artist I collaborated with back when I was just starting in trap. It meant so much to me because I was still finding my footing and he believed in me.

As for my top five? Living or passed, I’d say Héctor Lavoe, Frankie Ruiz, Cheo Feliciano, Ismael Rivera, Celia Cruz, Tito Rojas. Tito Rodríguez, too — I love listening to his voice.

Residente: And the orchestra of young musicians you worked with on the album [and who played at the residency], how did that come together?

Bad Bunny: I had the idea for “Baile Inolvidable” and knew I needed the right team to make it happen. I’m secretive when I make music and I like to challenge myself. I could’ve gone to big-name arrangers, but I had the arrangement in my head and I needed someone to bring it to life. I met Big Jay [producer Jay Anthony Núñez], who plays bongos and campana, and he helped me craft the arrangement on the computer. Then I saw this TikTok of a kid, Julito Gastón, directing an orchestra of other young musicians. He had so much energy, like a mini-Roberto Roena [the famed Puerto Rican salsa musician].

It was an old video and I thought it would be interesting to find him. Turned out Julito was available, and he brought together the musicians I needed. The funny thing is, the names Julito gave me matched the ones Big Jay suggested. These musicians had the hunger and heart I was looking for.

Residente: Would you consider making a full album with them?

Bad Bunny: It’s supposed to be a surprise, but yeah. It’s pretty obvious it can’t end here.

Residente: Are there songs in your setlist that hit you emotionally, where you have to control your feelings?

Bad Bunny: Definitely. It depends on the day and my mood. The first time I performed “La Mudanza,” it hit me hard because I was talking about my parents and knew my mom was in the audience. [“DtMF”] gets me sometimes, too, especially the line about playing dominoes with my grandpa. “Lo Que Le Pasó a Hawaii” also gets me — it’s such an emotional song.

Residente: “Lo Que Le Pasó a Hawaii” is such a special song. Now, let’s talk about acting, which is something you’ve begun to do. In my experience, acting has allowed me to be more honest onstage.

Bad Bunny: It’s different, but I’ve told you before, acting is something I’ve wanted to take on carefully. I’ve approached it with respect, learning and gaining experience little by little. I’ve always respected the craft, and I’ve used acting techniques in my own projects. Wrestling, also. I love wrestling and there’s elements of wrestling that I’ve used during my whole career.

But I’ve loved the experience of acting so far, especially the most recent films. I’ve always loved comedy — it’s the genre I consume the most, and I’ve always enjoyed making people laugh. So getting the chance to do something lighthearted and fun, like Happy Gilmore [2], was a dream. And then, at the same time, I was working on Caught Stealing, which was a totally different vibe.

Residente: Do you ever watch playback on set, or do you just trust the process?

Bad Bunny: When I’m making my music videos, I’m all over the playback. But with films, it depends. For Happy Gilmore, Adam Sandler trusted me to check it out and see how I was doing. After almost a month of working together, I felt comfortable enough to take a look. With Darren Aronofsky, though, I knew if I messed something up, he’d tell me. Sometimes he’d show me the playback and say, “This is great,” and that gave me a lot of reassurance. He wasn’t going to let me mess up his movie.

Residente: The guest lineup for your residency was so unexpected, like Luis Fonsi singing “Lo Que Le Pasó a Hawaii.” It’s something you wouldn’t imagine because of the genre differences.

Bad Bunny: That was the vision from the start. I wanted everyone to feel like they were part of this [residency], no matter their background. It didn’t matter your musical taste, your political views or anything else. This was for everyone. I wanted people to look back and say, “I was part of that.” The whole concept was about respecting and loving each other and also taking care of our home and our culture. Everyone was welcome.

Residente: It felt like a Puerto Rican Christmas celebration. It had that warmth and sense of community.

Bad Bunny: Totally. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: This residency was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. The word that keeps coming to mind for me is “harmony.” Across 30 shows, there wasn’t a single viral video of people fighting or arguing. Everyone was just happy, dancing and showing love.

Residente: That has a lot to do with the music and your growth as an artist. You’re at the top of your game right now. Creatively, how do you outdo yourself?

Bad Bunny: That’s what I love most about what I do: thinking about what’s next. I’m not focused on reaching some higher level of greatness. I just want to create from the heart and let life, the world and the people decide what it becomes. The other day, we were talking about how artists get into a funk after having everything. I remember a conversation I had with my mom when I started to sing. I told Mami, “I’m afraid of dying out.” And she said, “Don’t. Just enjoy it.” When I had my very first hit, I really thought that was it. All that success that came afterward was crazy to me.

Then, when I released Un Verano Sin Ti, I knew it was so big, I made a decision: I didn’t want to force myself to top it. I didn’t care about breaking records or being No. 1. I wanted to make music for Puerto Rico. This project reminded me that you must trust your vision and sing from the heart.

Residente: When you’re a creative person — writing, composing, directing, performing — that spark doesn’t go away. What you created here, man, was so special. Seeing what you’ve done, it teaches me, it inspires me and it makes me so proud to be Puerto Rican.

Bad Bunny: Thank you, man. That means a lot coming from you. [Univision host] Don Francisco better watch out, man. You’re killing it.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

This story appears in the Oct. 4, 2025, issue of Billboard.