Kali Uchis Trades English R&B for Reggaeton, Cumbia and Boleros on Sin Miedo

Kali Uchis makes her boldest move yet on Sin miedo (del amor y otros demonios) ∞, a 13-track album that abandons the English-language R&B of her debut for a Spanish-language journey through reggaeton, cumbia and boleros. The record runs just 34 minutes, a tight, restless collection that never sits still long enough to become comfortable. This is not a retreat into familiar territory; it is an expansion, and mostly it works.

Opening With the Moon and a Breakup

The record begins softly with “la luna enamorada,” a 1:51 intro that sets a dreamy, romantic tone before the real action starts. “fue mejor” follows, a sleek reggaeton-pop cut about a breakup that was for the best. It is one of the strongest tracks here, pairing a sharp hook with a cool, unhurried delivery. Uchis sounds in control even when she is singing about letting go.

“//aguardiente y limón %ᵕ‿‿ᵕ%” shifts the mood with its odd title and a cumbia-inflected bounce. The track is playful, a little chaotic, and it shows Uchis having fun with rhythm in ways her debut rarely attempted. “¡aquí yo mando!” is the album’s clearest statement of intent. It is a swaggering, assertive number where Uchis takes charge over a driving beat, and critics were right to single it out. It is the sound of an artist declaring her own rules.

“vaya con dios” slows things down, a bolero-tinged ballad that lets Uchis stretch her voice over warmer, more traditional instrumentation. It is elegant and slightly mournful, a reminder that this album is not all club-ready energy. “que te pedí//” is brief — just 1:44 — and functions as an interlude, a breath before the record’s commercial peak. It does not overstay its welcome, which is precisely the point.

Telepatía and the Record’s Peak

“quiero sentirme bien” picks the pace back up with a smooth, melodic R&B groove. It is pleasant but not essential, the kind of track that keeps the album moving without demanding much attention. Then comes “telepatía,” the undeniable centerpiece. The song — a slinky, minimalist meditation on long-distance desire — became Uchis’s biggest hit, and hearing it in sequence makes clear why. It is the most fully realized track on the album: the production is spare, the melody is sticky, and Uchis’s vocal floats over it all with effortless command. This is the moment where Sin Miedo fully justifies itself.

“de nadie” returns to a sharper, more rhythmic energy, a song about belonging to no one. It is confident and direct, though it does not quite reach the heights of the album’s best moments. “no eres tu(soy yo)” is a clever title and a short, punchy track that leans into its own wit. It is over in two minutes, a quick jab rather than a knockout.

Back Half Energy and the Quiet Closer

“te pongo mal(prendelo)” brings back the party energy with a more aggressive reggaeton pulse. It is functional and fun, but it lacks the personality of “¡aquí yo mando!” or “telepatía.” “la luz(fín)” closes the main body of the record with a collaboration that adds texture and a sense of finale. It is a strong ending, though “ángel sin cielo” — the actual final track — is the one that lingers. At 2:03, it is a quiet, aching closer that frames the album’s emotional arc: fearless, yes, but not without feeling.

“Uchis is fearless in stretching her sound past funky breaks, slippery R&B, and spaced-out jazz tropes to offer bracing evolutionary conceptions of reggaeton, cumbia, and boleros.”

Where the Album Stumbles

Not every experiment lands. The middle of the record, from “quiero sentirme bien” through “de nadie,” has moments that feel like filler rather than evolution. These tracks are competently made but forgettable, and they dilute the impact of the stronger material around them. The interludes — “que te pedí//” and the odd “//aguardiente y limón %ᵕ‿‿ᵕ%” — are charming but slight, and they make an already short album feel even more fragmented.

The comparison to Isolation, Uchis’s 2018 debut, is unavoidable. That record was a dense, ambitious fusion of soul, funk and pop that felt like a statement. Sin Miedo is leaner and more focused, but it also lacks some of that debut’s richness. Pitchfork noted that the album “isn’t as impactful as Isolation, but there are plenty of moments on this record where Kali shows great potential.” That assessment holds.

The potential is visible in nearly every track, but the consistency is not quite there.

The Verdict

Sin miedo (del amor y otros demonios) ∞ is a confident, eclectic step forward that does not fully break through. It is a record of strong singles and promising ideas, anchored by “telepatía” and “fue mejor,” but it never quite coheres into a complete artistic statement. Uchis proves she can command Spanish-language pop with ease, and her fearlessness is real — she stretches into reggaeton, cumbia and boleros without ever sounding like she is imitating anyone.

The album earns a 7.8 out of 10. It is a good record with flashes of greatness, a stepping stone rather than a destination. For an artist this talented, that is enough for now — but the next one needs to go further.

album review · Kali Uchis · Latin pop · reggaeton · Sin Miedo