If you grew up in Latin America, the Caribbean, or diaspora in 2005, you grew up to the thud of a dembow beat.  Whether you winced at it or leaned heavily into it, depending on your age, there’s a strong chance you were at a party de marquesina sweating up on your crush, gyrating in sweaty jeans or a miniskirt. You were in the passenger seat of your cousin’s car riding around Caracas or San Juan or Santo Domingo. You were in a middle school grinding train, figuring out what your hips could do