Spanish Town Bans Reggaeton Once a Year – Meaning No Bad Bunny, Karol G, and Other Modern Latin Artists 

The quaint town of La Línea de la Concepción, which is located in Spain’s southern province of Cádiz, holds a peculiar distinction in its annual celebrations. For one day each year, an ironclad ban falls over the airwaves, silencing reggaeton, pop, rock, and nearly every modern genre of music.  

This isn’t a throwback to a distant past or an oppressive regime; rather, it is a tradition meticulously upheld by the town’s residents, an accepted norm born out of a desire to preserve the sanctity of their religious roots. 

On the first Sunday of the Feria de Andalucía, known as Domingo Rociero, La Línea’s streets were stripped of music by Karol G, Bad Bunny, and even Maluma and this year, this day landed on July 19. 

Why Can’t This Town Listen to Reggaeton?

Since 2019, this cultural rule has been implemented with strict adherence, a decision initiated by the town’s mayor. His aim was to ensure that the solemnity of the day, rooted in religious significance, was not overshadowed by the modern beats of reggaeton or any other genre. The town’s public spaces resounded only with the echoes of rociera and flamenco music, reflecting Andalusia’s deep cultural heritage. 

This local law, although enforced by the authorities for just a single day, resonates throughout the town’s atmosphere. During the Domingo Rociero, all attention shifts to the Parroquia de la Inmaculada Concepción, where the celebrated Misa Rociera takes place.  

As the mass concludes, the streets of La Línea come alive, not with thumping bass but with the soulful strains of traditional Andalusian melodies. Bars and restaurants set up their stalls, catering to locals and visitors alike, but only within the limits of the town’s approved soundscape. 

This cultural embargo is not exclusive to reggaeton. Genres spanning from punk to techno are forbidden from infiltrating the day’s festivities. Only the revered sounds of Andalucía’s musical traditions are allowed to breathe life into the town’s gathering places. 

Beyond the church and the bars, the heart of the celebration lies in the casetas, temporary structures set up at the town’s fairgrounds. Eighteen casetas dot the area, each dedicated to different groups, from families to youth, fostering a spirit of community deeply rooted in the town’s history.  

The scene echoes back to the late 1960s when La Línea’s Feria de Andalucía first began to take shape. Back then, the highlight of the Sunday festivities was the parade of horsemen along Calle Real, their performances judged by a panel at the Círculo Mercantil. As the years progressed, the mass evolved into a Rociera mass, fueled by the growing presence of the Hermandad del Rocío, and the streets became a center for music and celebration. 

This annual day of silence for reggaeton and all its musical contemporaries is not merely a rejection of modern trends. It’s a reflection of a town holding fast to its traditions, preserving a moment of reverence and festivity in a world where music can often blur the lines between the sacred and the everyday. For La Línea, it is a reminder that sometimes, the most profound sounds come not from the latest hits but from the echoes of a deep-rooted past.