It’s increasingly rare for an album to exist on its own terms. Even the most acclaimed releases today seem destined for sequels, prequels, or companion projects. Artists remix their own ideas, repackage familiar motifs, and extend narratives until the concept runs thin. The album, once a standalone statement, now lingers in its own afterglow—reborn, reframed, and resold.
Rauw Alejandro has embraced this pattern wholeheartedly. Fans will remember his Trap Cake duology, the follow-up Playa Saturno to his intergalactic Saturno, and now Capítulo 0, the “chapter zero” prelude to last year’s Cosa Nuestra. Though billed as a prequel, Capítulo 0 stands as a full-fledged album—shorter in length but rich in texture, and surprisingly distinct in sound. Where Cosa Nuestra channeled the suave elegance of salsa romántica legends, Capítulo 0 digs deeper into ancestry, spirituality, and Puerto Rican folk traditions.
The album opens with “Carita Linda,” a luminous invocation built around the deep pulse of bomba—the Afro–Puerto Rican rhythm that forms the heart of several tracks. Its shakers and call-and-response vocals feel ceremonial, like a song meant to summon the divine. Across Capítulo 0, Rauw honors his heritage not just as ornamentation but as foundation, weaving drums and chants into modern pop production.
While salsa was more a stylistic nod on Cosa Nuestra, here it takes center stage in the album’s final trilogy. “Callejón de los Secretos,” a duet with Mon Laferte, channels the smoky intimacy of an old-world lounge, while “FALSEDAD” bursts with heartbreak and conga fire, recalling the emotional force of Frankie Ruiz. On closer “Mirando al Cielo,” Rauw turns inward and upward, offering a spiritual hymn to Puerto Rico—“Mary is taking care of me / Yemayá is opening the seas.” It’s one of his most vocally assured performances to date, closing this creative cycle with poise and reverence.
Yet not every experiment lands. “Caribeño,” intended as a tribute to Caribbean identity, overreaches. Bronx rapper Saso (of rock-reggaeton duo Planta Industrial) launches the track with ferocious energy, invoking the islands, ancestors, and Orishas over thunderous bomba drums. But when Rauw enters, the song deflates into well-meaning clichés about fire, hips, and heritage. What begins as a powerful moment of reclamation dissolves into poetic overkill—a reminder that identity is best expressed through feeling, not exposition.
Where Rauw’s intellectual ambitions sometimes falter, his sensual instincts never miss. “Silencio” turns bachata into a private ritual, a whispered request for closeness and release. “Santa,” featuring Ayra Starr and producer Rvssian, builds a shimmering Afrobeat confession that exalts desire as devotion. And “Contrabando,” a riotous perreo alongside Wisin and Ñengo Flow, reminds listeners of Rauw’s roots in reggaeton—a genre he navigates with effortless precision and unabashed lust. Even dressed in a tailored suit, he’s still the island’s restless playboy, performing seduction as second nature.
If Capítulo 0 falters anywhere, it’s in its cohesion. The album plays more like a suite of finely crafted singles than a unified statement. But within its patchwork lies a promising vision for what comes next. Rauw seems caught between looking back—to his ancestors, to the sounds that raised him—and leaping forward into new stylistic territory. Should he choose to explore one of these paths more deeply, he could discover something even greater than his current orbit.
Because the search for identity, much like the search for love or rhythm, can’t be finished in one album. Capítulo 0 isn’t just a prequel—it’s a prelude to transformation.
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