With Las Mujeres Ya No Lloran, her first album almost entirely in Spanish since 2005, Shakira signals a deliberate and timely return to her roots. When the Barranquilla native catapulted into the Anglophone pop scene with Laundry Service in 2001, she modeled a version of bilingual international stardom that opened doors for other Latine singers. Today, a new generation of Spanish-speaking stars like Bad Bunny, Rosalía, and Karol G have helped loosen the English language’s long-held grip on commercial pop. And while Shakira has always preached that music transcends language, her new album—saturated with bold-name cameos and dabbling in trending sounds—is poised to ride the latest wave.
But you’re probably here to hear about her divorce. Las Mujeres Ya No Lloran obsesses over the demise of Shakira’s 11-year relationship with Gerard Piqué, the former Spanish soccer player she now calls “Voldemort.” The album title originates from a lyric in the standout “Bzrp Music Sessions, Vol.53,” the diss track originally recorded for Argentine DJ Bizarrap’s popular video series, and Shakira’s first all-Spanish song to reach the Hot 100. More than a year later, her digs still sting, from belittling her ex as a rookie to comparing his new girlfriend to a Twingo. Even when she’s not saying Piqué’s name, she kind of is: Imaginative, shady wordplay like “Yo solo hago música, perdón que te salpique” (roughly, “I only make music, sorry if it bothers you”) turned the song into a viral sensation. Then there’s the Kill Bill moment when Shakira reveals her intentions for this track, and perhaps to some extent, this album: “Esto es pa’ que te mortifique’/Mastique’ y trague’, trague’ y mastique’” (“This is for you to be mortified/To chew and swallow, swallow and chew”). Beneath her visceral rage is the heartbroken lover who simply wants to hurt her ex like he hurt her, to guarantee this record follows him forever.
Breakups are hard, and the balance of the album offers a brutally honest glimpse into the aftermath. With her personal business already in the press, Shakira sings through the stages of grief, notably focusing on acceptance—as defined by vengeance and still-got-it sex appeal. The saga begins as a fantasy on flirty nu-disco opener “Puntería,” with Cardi B, where women are goddesses and men are horny centaurs with washboard abs. Bizarrap appears again on the squelchy electro-pop track “La Fuerte,” which pulses with 2 a.m. club heat as a post-breakup Shaki seeks refuge on the dancefloor. But as the chorus swells and the tempo quickens, it sounds as if she’s on the brink of calling her ex. “Dime dónde, cuándo y cómo,” she repeats (“Tell me where, when, and how”), her voice breaking into the high-pitched plea of romantic anguish that first defined Shakira’s music—good thing she deleted his number.