Habítame Siempre in the eyes of @thalia’s F.A.N.S

by @louie_xviii

Magia en mi Enterior

Since 2000, with the release of Arrasando, a new Thalia album has come to represent a momentous occasion, intricately intertwined with my personal life. Then, Arrasando—with all of its frenetic and youthful energy—left my naïve 17-year old self without a care in the world and optimistic about the future. 2005’s El Sexto Sentido represented a frivolous, yet delicious, distraction from the pressures of college life. In 2009, the vulnerable and introspective Primera Fila mirrored my vulnerable and introspective self, who was beginning a professional career full of doubts, second-guessing himself every step of the way.

But now there’s the present.

Three years later, Thalia has returned differently, as I am different. Habitame Siempre, like her previous albums, seems to naturally evoke my life at the moment. After the arduous experience that was recording 1Fila—along with the rollercoaster of emotions that Thalia experienced in recent years—there seems to be a new-found swagger in her step, a confident glitter in her eyes, a realization that she’s the artist she’s supposed to be but that she, herself, doubted whether she could actually become such artist. It seems that 1Fila didn’t just convince the critics that Thalia was a true chanteuse; it convinced her too.

Habitame Siempre, like all Thalia albums, is eclectic, running the gamut of Latin music: from pop ballads and bachata to salsa and vallenato. Yet in its own all-embracing demeanor, the album succeeds in feeling cogent, adorned with the style of an “old-school crooner” from a former golden age. Ballads like “tomame o dejame” and “no soy el aire” are intimate and heartfelt, eschewing melodrama. They’re eerily reminiscent of late 70’s/early 80’s Spanish-language ballads, but Thalia’s newfound confidence prevents them from sounding dated. Even the hackneyed “Besame Mucho,” with its sultry tango arrangements and hypnotic strings, finds new life in the hands of Thalia and featured artist Michael Buble (of whom I’ve never been a fan). The upbeat songs—“Regalito de Dios,” “Ojala,” “Dime si Ahora,” and “Te Perdiste mi Amor”—add sparkle and gloss to a simple, but swanky, affair.

But there are three songs that, ultimately, make the album worthwhile. “Munequita Linda,” with its effortless swag, its classic collectiveness, its explosive chemistry between Thalia and featured artist Robbie Williams, sways and shimmers incessantly in your brain. The song is way cooler than you are, and it isn’t modest about hiding its sense of superiority. Then there’s “Besame,” a cover of a forgotten Ricardo Montaner song from the 90s that hits you like a bullet. It is striking in its simplicity, overwhelming in its fragile emotion, captivating in its sweet lyrics. Thalia sounds born to sing this song, a glove that perfectly fits her hand—a genuine musical gem. Finally, there’s “Habitame Siempre,” the title track, the song that kicks off the album and that should have been the first single (the official first single “Manias” is a nice if forgettable song, perhaps the weakest of the album). It’s a song that was conceived out of heartbreak and loss, that rips your chest and tears your heart out, but that lovingly sews it back together, providing catharsis and a sense of respite. What a tricky tightrope to walk! Mario Domm and Maria Bernal, songwriters of the unbelievable “Equivocada,” once again find the perfect balance of heart-ache and positivity. And then there’s Thalia’s magical rendition. Honest, aching, and idealistic, she uncovers “magic in [her] interior.” By the end, the song—and the album itself—makes believe that there is magic inside of us all.

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