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Back then, the desired end point of indie crossover success looked something like Built to Spill, or the Flaming Lips -a cozy major-label deal that would give you some extra cash to live on and the freedom to make your records, and then leave you alone. These were CEO moves, creative-director moves, ones out of proportion with the sorts of modest indie careers of yesteryear. He became part owner of a boutique hotel. He started a music festival in his hometown and launched a bespoke streaming service.

He was something we’d seen before, and then he rapidly became something we hadn’t. He was unquestionably a folk artist, making music with just his spiraling falsetto and a strummed guitar from the relative comfort of his little record label.

Vernon started out as the embodiment of Hipster Rustic: beards, flannels, male heartbreak, seclusion. The results-Bon Iver’s 2007 debut For Emma, Forever Ago-made him an indie star but even more impressively raised the ceiling on what such a thing could entail. In 2006, Justin Vernon spent three months harmonizing with himself in the Wisconsin woods, bending his falsetto over a collection of oddly shaped, impressionistic folk songs. Beyoncé has a cultural sixth sense for finding the busted seams between regions and eras and styles, and the performance saw her stitching those breaks back together in a way that made them new again. In a way, all of it was a prelude to Saturday’s set, which felt like her most definitive statement yet, the kind of show that requires a deep and widely-known catalog, ideological ambition, and a thorough knowledge of history (musical and otherwise). Think about the “Formation” video, in which a Black child dances in front of a line of cops wearing riot gear, or her Super Bowl halftime show, where she paid homage to the Black Panthers, or her Lemonade longform visual, in which she reimagined images of American wealth and power with Black women at the forefront. Increasingly, Beyoncé has used her art-that is, everything: the albums themselves, but also her videos, her tours, Instagram, and so on-to examine power imbalances and to show how people blanch when those imbalances are brought up to the surface for examination. When he says he does whatever he wants, we believe him. He’s a beacon of light in barrios around the world, an example for kids with secret skirts or Smashing Pumpkins CDs of what being yourself can look and sound like.

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Standing on top of the world, with access to abundant fame, wealth, and critical success, he appears free of any pressure to conform, even to previous versions of himself. As Matthew Ismael Ruiz wrote in his review of 2020’s El Último Tour del Mundo:īad Bunny toes the line between rap braggadocio and vulnerable everyman with relative ease-even while crooning about alien sex. He has also proven to be something of a pop progressive, too, whether pushing against received notions of masculinity in his eye-catching dresses, or speaking out against misogyny, homophobia, and gender violence in his songs, videos, and performances. He soon became one of the most visible and versatile figures in Latin pop, fusing reggaetón, bachata, dembow, trap, alt-rock, and more in giddily shape-shifting fashion.

Benito Antonio Martínez Ocasio, a native of the working-class Almirante Sur neighborhood of Vega Baja, Puerto Rico, was a 22-year-old college student pulling shifts at the local supermarket when his first hit, “Diles,” blew up on SoundCloud in 2016.

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