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17 by Ricky Martin

Album

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Released:
Label: Sony Music Latin
At first glance, the Ricky Martin presented on this disc isn't the randy bad boy of '90s fame. He seems to be laying a kind of retroactive whitewash on his catalog, turning away from the panting, hormone-driven heights of songs like "She Bangs" and opting for the sensitive-guy ballads that may not have burned up the charts, though they will gently smolder in your speakers like a mid-winter fire. But you can't suppress the real Ricky, and the turbo-charged wag we know and tolerate reappears soon enough, pumping his man-sized fist on "La Copa de la Vida" and kicking through walls on "La Bomba."

About This Album

At first glance, the Ricky Martin presented on this disc isn't the randy bad boy of '90s fame. He seems to be laying a kind of retroactive whitewash on his catalog, turning away from the panting, hormone-driven heights of songs like "She Bangs" and opting for the sensitive-guy ballads that may not have burned up the charts, though they will gently smolder in your speakers like a mid-winter fire. But you can't suppress the real Ricky, and the turbo-charged wag we know and tolerate reappears soon enough, pumping his man-sized fist on "La Copa de la Vida" and kicking through walls on "La Bomba."

Songs

About This Album

At first glance, the Ricky Martin presented on this disc isn't the randy bad boy of '90s fame. He seems to be laying a kind of retroactive whitewash on his catalog, turning away from the panting, hormone-driven heights of songs like "She Bangs" and opting for the sensitive-guy ballads that may not have burned up the charts, though they will gently smolder in your speakers like a mid-winter fire. But you can't suppress the real Ricky, and the turbo-charged wag we know and tolerate reappears soon enough, pumping his man-sized fist on "La Copa de la Vida" and kicking through walls on "La Bomba."