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On Friday night at the SoFi Stadium, there was nothing random about the songs that played just before Karol G took the stage for the first of three evenings at the venue. We can safely assume that the Colombian superstar selected the cuts herself — the perfect tropicoqueta mix to set up the mood.
First, a shadowy “Bésame Mucho”; Elvis Crespo’s merengue smash “Suavemente”; the Afro-Cuban nugget “El Manisero”; and two life-affirming hits by the Queen of Salsa herself, Celia Cruz: “La Vida Es Un Carnaval” and “La Negra Tiene Tumbao.”
These carefully curated gems share a common element: They managed to transcend the stylistic contours of their respective genres and become something bigger — the kind of irresistible, it-takes-a-village anthems that will lure everyone to the dance floor, even if they don’t understand the lyrics.
And that is exactly what Karol G — la bichota, the South American Cleopatra, the woman with the billion-dollar smile — has been doing for global pop since the release of “Tusa,” her imperial duet with Nicki Minaj, back in 2019.
Karol is currently the 42nd-most-streamed artist on Spotify, and her albums “Mañana Será Bonito” (2023) and “Tropicoqueta” (2025) helped reinvent the sound of contemporary Latin. She emerged from the reggaeton thunderstorm that hijacked the planet, but then guided it smoothly into a different aesthetic territory, far away from the movement’s misogynistic toxicity. Her ongoing collaboration with producer Ovy On The Drums — they’re the same age, 35, both from MedellĂn — was transformative, combining clanging, tribal beats with liquid textures and a refined, champagne-like lightness.
Part of the massive “Viajando Por El Mundo Tropitour,” Friday’s performance confirmed the singer’s stature as one of the most vital and charismatic Latin artists of the 21st century. More than a conventional concert, it felt like a stark, delirious fantasia, a relentless cinematic mosaic of decadent dance numbers and hyper-popped fragmentation presented in five acts, unified by a tropical visual motif: lush vegetation; a blue lagoon where cleansing erotic rituals take place; plumes of purifying fire to expiate the aftertaste of all those failed romances.
Beginning with the wicked reggaeton beat of “Latina Foreva” — an existential jam about curves and pleasure, the freedom of the flesh — Karol ignited a deafening roar of adoration from the full-capacity crowd. For a moment, I got a taste of what Beatlemania must have sounded like in the 1960s.
As the cameras followed her closely, projecting every playful grimace and flirtatious wink onto the giant video screens, the complexity of her artistic persona became increasingly transparent: an indomitable woman who is deeply connected with primal joy and sensuality, but also vulnerable enough to get her heart broken on the way to the red carpet (and still embrace the experience). In the world of Karol G, what doesn’t kill you makes for an international hit.
Admittedly, it was the aggressive, in-your-face numbers that worked best. Karol sounds even better when surrounded by half-naked dancers — “Gatúbela” and “Ojos Ferrari” were highlights in that respect — and the choreography evoked the sweaty rapture of a full-blown Roman orgy.
But she’s also smart enough to alternate the futurism of neo-reggaeton (the cutting-edge territory where her work with producers like Ovy On The Drums and Tainy has given us some astonishing records) with an affectionate nod to the past glories of Afro-Caribbean lore: the 20th century cultural bubble where Colombian families listened to the “14 Cañonazos Bailables” compilations during the Christmas season.
On the title track of “Tropicoqueta,” she draws an imaginary line that connects her current sexual emancipation to the frisky downbeats of 1950s mambo and the early 2000s movement that jazzed up the Afro-Caribbean classics with a digital bounce. On Friday, she salsified “Provenza” and added the riff of Willie Colón’s “La Murga” as an intro to “Tusa.” Her visual recreation of the “Tropicoqueta” album cover onstage was one of the show’s wittiest moments.
At one point after the success of “Mañana Será Bonito,” Karol must have realized that her newly acquired diva status gave her the chance to voice some valuable thoughts on the merits of Latin American culture.
In between songs, Karol spoke with compassion about the recent earthquakes affecting Colombia and Venezuela — the latter of which is where her poised opening act, Elena Rose, also hails from — but her pan-Latino ideology seeped into the music as well. Her face was covered in tears after she performed “Ese Hombre Es Malo” backed by female mariachi players. At the end of the show, a stunning reading of “Si Antes Te Hubiera Conocido” revealed the instinctive ease with which she can navigate the sweet, syncopated phrasing of Dominican merengue.
