The Feminine Musique: “Brujería” by El Gran Combo de Puerto Rico
When dancing to the contagious beats of cumbia, bachata, salsa, and merengue, it’s easy to forget the sometimes negative messages this music emits into the Latinx community. But what is two steps too many when it comes to supporting music that oppresses women?
The Feminine Musique is a series where writers analyze portrayals of women in music.
Written by Samantha Paradiso
A sweltering heat that visibly ondulates on the horizon, street vendors yelling their lowest prices yet, the faint odor of empanadas being sold in the panadería. Then, the tune of El Gran Combo de Puerto Rico’s “Brujeria” can be heard playing from the store front speakers. A couple of lottery ticket sellers get up and casually dance to the beat while singing along. It’s a seemingly innocent moment, but you can’t help but wonder: why are we so quick to accept music that demeans women just for the sake of a contagious beat?
Although the great giants of salsa such as Willie Colon, Hector Lavoe, and Joe Arroyo sang about important topics such as slavery and transgender identity, they do not overshadow the blatant misogyny often portrayed in Latinx music. In this particular case, El Gran Combo de Puerto Rico’s hit salsa song, “Brujeríia [Witchcraft],” reiterates time and time again that women are to blame for how a man feels. The song goes even further than that, though. By claiming that the woman is a witch who has cast a spell on the singer, the group demonizes female sexuality.
The song’s opening lyrics demonstrate the Grupo’s stance on women right off the bat. “Que me habrá echado esa chica [What has that girl done to me],” immediately insinuates the idea that women are responsible for a man’s emotions and sexual prowess. The rest of the verse goes as follows: “que me tiene arrebatado / que me tiene medio loco / que ya estoy enamorado [that has me flushed / that has me half crazy / that has me in love].”
The repetition of “que me tiene [that has me]” reiterates the singer’s idea that the woman he’s fallen for has forced him into this situation, that she is responsible –– not him, impeding the possibility of assuming any kind of responsibility. In doing so, he transforms love from an innocent, beautiful feeling to a negative emotion that the woman should feel guilty for. Additionally, the singer generalizes the woman by calling her “esa chica [that girl],” thus diminishing her worth. Later in the song, he similarly sings “chacal y bruja, marigua, Maria [weasel and witch, weed, Maria]” when describing his lover.
This negative and objectifying description of the woman is pushed even further by the use of words such as “bruja [witch],” “demonio [demon],” and “vampira [vampire].” This name-calling perpetuates the idea of women as supernatural, with beauty that incites terror and danger, reinforcing the perception of the feminine as an untamable and unruly entity. The supernatural overwhelms human emotion and reason, often leaving one bewildered. Because the singer cannot comprehend the woman’s beauty and his consequent feelings for her, he chooses to cast blame on her. Since roles are reversed from the typical patriarchal order, “Brujeria” insinuates that the only reasonable explanation must be supernatural beings at work.
However, the song contradicts itself, unable to determine whether “Maria” truly wields power over the singer. The opening verse goes “quizá serán sus ojitos / o tal vez su caminado / o quizás esas cositas / que en su casa ella me ha dado. [maybe it’s her eyes / or maybe her walk / or maybe the little things / that she gave me in her house]” In this line, the singer blames Maria’s looks for how he feels and reiterates that she does things to him –– not the other way around. Contrastingly, right after listing her physical characteristics, the singer implies she practices witchcraft, as if that’s the only explanation for his attraction to her. Further along in the song he sings: “me echaste, no se que, en la comida [you put, i don’t know what, in the food]” suggesting his beloved may have practiced brujeria by sprinkling something in his food and thus manipulating his feelings for her.
Even when expressing his anguish and dismay over his undying love for Maria, the singer’s focus is on his lover’s responsibility over his emotions rather than on his own culpability — or even his viewpoint — in the situation. However, there is no concrete evidence for her role in his current moribund condition. All of the singer’s claims are prefaced by qualifiers such as “quizá [perhaps],” “tal vez [maybe],” and “no se que [I don’t know what].” All of these descriptors only further dwindle his authority and credibility, demonstrating the capacity of definite action depicted in the song, which is not saying much.
There is no denying that the Grupo’s catchy song leaves you tapping your foot and singing along by the end of it. However, it is important to remain wary of such music as it is songs like these that perpetuate a culture that holds women accountable for men’s sexuality — two completely unrelated topics. Women in the Latinx community know these double standards all too well. They must conform to the nurturing and caretaking role of a mother while also fulfilling men’s insatiable desire. Similarly, they must appeal to men’s sexual prowess by being sex vixens while also remaining chaste. Because the singer cannot differentiate between these polarizing roles, he consequently demonizes his lover. Though this song may seem catchy and harmless, it is important to recognize its connotations and implications, or else we’ll keep dancing and jiving to the tune of our oppression.