Daddy Yankee and Play-N-Skillz “Not a Crime (No es ilegal)”
begins with a phrase that is both mundane and radical. Daddy Yankee sings: “Todo
el mundo se puede enamorar/ Esto que sentimos no es ilegal.” That everyone can
fall in love is not a very controversial or original idea. But by using the
term “ilegal,” the song evokes issues that are driving not only the upcoming presidential
election but also major social and political dilemmas that can be seen on the
horizon. The movement of people throughout the world in search of a better life
has made them “illegals” and by framing love as global phenomenon and claiming
that love is not illegal, Daddy Yankee seems to suggest, indirectly and
displaced onto safer rhetorical ground, that no one is illegal: “Todo el mundo
. . . no es ilegal.” (That being said, someone whose thinking I respect wondered
whether the song might be advocating for the legitimacy of same sex desire. I
don’t really see it that way, but this was also the same person who pointed
out that when Demi Lovato sang “I got a taste for the cherry/I just need to
take a bite” in “Cool for the Summer” she was making reference to Lesbian sex,
an idea that had NEVER occurred to me, so.)
Associating love and the law has been a common theme in contemporary
Latin American pop music. Maná’s “Amor clandestino” figures love in terms of a
fugitive. This fugitive love hides, travels in unexpected ways, and is inevitable.
If in “Not a Crime” love cannot be illegal, in “Amor Clandestino” love does not
need to be sanctioned in order to be. Love is furtive and patient and not bound
by conventions. Ricardo Arjona’s “Duele verte” makes a very similar point,
though the poetry of the feeling is a little undercut in that song because it’s
about fucking a married lady on the sly. My favorite song on this theme is
Julieta Venegas’ cover of Los RodrÃguez’ “Sin documentos.” The first verse of
this song always makes my heart jump: “Let me cross the air without any
documents/ I will do it for the time we had/ Because there is no way out/ Because
you seem asleep/ Because I would spend all of my life looking for your smile.” Here
love must transgress borders in order to fulfill itself. Love depends on performing
an illegal act because only by breaking laws can it meet its object. The original of this song is incredible, perfect almost, but I prefer Venegas’
cover because she sounds so resigned to doing what she has to do. In the
original the breaking of the law for love sounds like an act of defiance, while
in her cover it has to be done simply because there is no other choice.
The historical substratum for these songs is pretty clear. Latin
Americans have for generations followed their dreams with or without official sanction.
They have crossed borders in the light of day and in the night, with permission
and without. Fences and walls have not stopped them and probably never will. I
love how these songs take this sociological phenomenon and render it in artistic
terms, not as a political issue as such, but as a question of love. These songs
are fascinating because they illustrate how art works: art emerges from and
responds to social and historical forces without being reducible to them. Love
is never illegal and people are never illegal, but love and the law, these
songs tell us, are not the same thing.