We rock critics are a trendwhorish lot, our enthusiasms fickle and fleeting. We regard hot new genres as merely so many entries in an Aural Pudding of the Month Club, dance punk's tapioca going stale just as freak folk's butterscotch arrives. And so it was that a beloved colleague remarked recently that what we needed to find now was "the next reggaetón." The dancehall/salsa/hip-hop hybrid has, evidently, played itself out, that hypnotic (if you dug it) or mindlessly repetitive (if you didn't) beat—derisively described in some corners as BOOM deBOOMde BOOM deBOOMde BOOM deBOOMde BOOM deBOOMde ad infinitum—fading out and... More >>>