[Si] TV

Don Omar knows exactly how to work his image: cool and raw enough to be down with the guys, but hot and wholesome enough to make the ladies swoon. Maybe it's the perfect cornrows, the beautifully groomed eyebrows, or his polite and inviting manner. William Omar Landrón is one of reggaeton's pioneers, with five solidly successful albums (the latest, King of Kings). Whether former preacher holy man or tough urban artist, Omar talks not with the cadence of the leader he once was in church, but with the honesty of the leader he is in the Latin music industry now. Si Entertainment talked to Omar before his upcoming weekend nuptials to TV weathergirl Jackie Guerrido.   

Si Ent.: How did you start working with reggaeton?
Don Omar: When I was 23, I got the opportunity to write for Hector El Bambino, back when he was part of the Hector and Tito duo. I started writing songs for them, and then I started working with [Daddy] Yankee, with Glory. I worked for VI Music in Puerto Rico, as a ghost employee, like they called it. I wrote all these songs, but no one really knew who I was. 

Si Ent.: We hear that you were a pastor. How did that work with your burgeoning reggaeton career?
DO: In church I was the music director and the youth pastor; I led about 800 jóvenes in a church that I attended in Bayamón. I really needed that time in the church; I needed a pause in my life. Everyone around me knew that if I continued the way I was until then, I wouldn't live to see past my 21st [birthday]. I was part of that whole gang thing in Puerto Rico. When I was 16, someone tried to shoot me. That's when my family and I moved to Carolina, looking for tranquility. I had grown up in Villa Palmeras, one of the poorest [barrios] in the San Juan urban area. That's when I started going to the church where I became youth pastor, I was about 20.

Si Ent.: So was your break with the church hard?
DO: It was really tough. I guess spiritually it was really hard. I was a church kid at that point. I wasn't in touch with so many things out in the world. I didn't drink, didn't party. I felt like the strangest man in the world. When the record company told me, "We want to sign you," I didn't know what to do. It was like a fight with myself, because I loved what I did in church. When I started working more with secular music, yeah, they started putting me aside, saying, "Oh, you're sinning." I didn't listen to them. I saw a door was opening, and it was something else I liked to do, and I did really well.

Si Ent.: A couple of years ago you were acquitted of gun and drug charges. How was it going through all that?
DO: When I was arrested, the officer said to me, "I want you to know one thing. Someday you're going to write a song for me." And I looked at him and said, "You're doing all this to me just so I can write you a song? You should have told me that before, I would have written it." But we were declared innocent; those officers were never able to prove that there were drugs or firearms in my car. That's why I wrote "Bandoleros"-the officer got his wish.

Si Ent.: Right now you're at the pinnacle of your career. Who are you going to pass the torch to?
DO: No, todavía no; definitely not yet. I still like to feel in control, to be at the front of this Latin music movement. I'm not ready to pass that to anyone. I'm going to be around until the public wants me to go away.