On a steamy, rain-swept Saturday night in August, as Hurricane Erin blustered offshore, the show started with dozens of dancers and drummers in traditional Puerto Rican dress. Bad Bunny emerged wearing something less traditional: a shearling hat, which made him look as if he had just arrived from someplace cold and was happy to be home. This was, of course, a celebration, but one made sweeter and more memorable by an underlying sense of ambivalence. The name of the residency is “No Me Quiero Ir de Aquí,” or “I Don’t Want to Leave Here,” a sentiment often expressed by peripatetic celebrities. (A few albums ago, Bad Bunny taunted an unnamed rival with a couplet that translates as “Nobody knows you, not even in your barrio / Yesterday I was with LeBron, and also DiCaprio.”) In this arena, “here” was actually two places. There was a main stage covered in greenery and mist, to evoke an unspoiled hillside. And, toward the back of the arena, there was a squat pink casita that was hosting a raucous house party. During a thunderous track called “Safaera,” Bad Bunny delivered the lyrics from the casita roof, while one of the revellers below danced so vigorously with a decorative plant that he seemed to be trying to pollinate it.journey-inline-newsletterinline-newsletter