That is probably not possible, at least not right now. Bad Bunny has spent the past decade creating one of the most irresistible bodies of work in all of popular music, and turning himself into an equivalently transfixing performer, singing and rapping in a cool and deceptively casual voice that can make almost any rhythm sound as if it were created just for him. And on Sunday he put on what might have been the best halftime performance in Super Bowl history: a riot of machine-tooled beats and swaying melodies, accompanied by so much dancing and so many different scenes—from a sugarcane plantation to a miniature nail salon to a handful of malfunctioning electric poles, to evoke and protest the island’s rolling blackouts—that when it was over, scarcely thirteen minutes after it began, viewers might almost have forgotten the appearances by Lady Gaga and Ricky Martin.