This is the break up album. Former Bacilos frontman Jorge Villamizar broke up with his wife, broke up with his band, broke his own heart. And true to his confessional style, the Colombian singer-songwriter wrote a new album to tell all about it -- called Jorge Villamizar, of course.

Gone in the break up: the organic, pan-Latin sound served up by Bacilos bandmates Andres Lopes and JJ Freire. The cute promises to his wife that he'd buy her designer dresses and a new house with his earnings from his first big hit, as in his first big hit "Mi Primer Millon" (My First Million).

If this is his second million, it sounds more like a million little pieces of his soul -- only every word of it is true. There are light moments: somewhere along the way he fell in love with alterna-babe Julieta Venegas, which explains his bouyant first single, "Ninguna" (No One -- as in "like you, there is no one" -- and when it comes to the gorgeous, uber-talented Venegas, I should say not).

For that single, he also hooked up (musically speaking) with veteran Colombian bass player Chucho Merchan, whose bright, bouncing rhythms helped define the '80s sound on recordings with Thomas Dolby, The Pretenders, Eurhythmics, Roxy Music, and on and on. So I would say this album has a less Latin American and more international pop sound -- except that, thanks to Merchan, international pop has apparently also been Colombian for a long time.

Anywho, I recently had the pleasure of grilling Jorge for five hours over two days (and some great gazpacho) about the rocky road he's traveled to get to this solo album. I'll be sharing the juicy details in my blog over the coming weeks.

In the meantime, you can hear all his self-doubts and wry self-deprecation set to a mostly snappy beat (especially searing: "Espejo" (Mirror), where the songwriter tries to convince himself that the guy staring at him is not as much of a loser or as bad a dancer as he's been telling himself he is and "Pequenos Romances" (Little Romances), where he figures out that a long string of exciting flings has gotten in the way of his maintaining a longstanding, meaningful relationship).

As for me, I miss the lush Latin sounds and sinuous dance rhythms of Bacilos. But, listen by listen, I'm getting to like this new guy. With each new play, I'm letting go of my old expectations, and finding so much new to love. Isn't that always the way with breakups?