Let's get one thing straight — Eterno is not your typical tribute album. It's not karaoke. It's not "let's bachata-fy this and hope for the best." No. This is Prince Royce at his most playful, soulful, and creatively ambitious. And yes, at his most Miami.
When the digital album dropped in May, fans quickly discovered that Eterno wasn't simply a novelty project, it was a masterclass in how to honor history while reshaping it for the present. Across 13 tracks, Royce reinvented the soundtrack of entire generations: Bee Gees, Backstreet Boys, Elvis, Stevie Wonder. Each song became both familiar and foreign at once, retouched, reimagined, dipped unapologetically in bachata.
But for many fans, something was missing: the physicality, the ritual of owning music. Now, months later, that wish has been granted. The vinyl edition of Eterno is finally here, pressed in a striking blue jay colorway and tucked inside a gatefold sleeve with a foldout poster.
A Miami State of Mind
Though born and raised in New York, Royce has long claimed Miami as his creative playground. "There's something about the spark here, la chispa, that New York doesn't have. It's warm, it's Caribbean, it's where things come alive."That spark is all over Eterno. The record feels both playful and bold, but also deeply respectful, for the originals, for the culture, for the people who first taught him what love (and heartbreak) sounded like.
Take Lionel Richie's "Stuck On You." In Royce's hands, it transforms into an intimate bachata ballad that could just as easily soundtrack a quinceañera as a late-night drive on Ocean Drive. Or the Beatles' "Yesterday," stripped down and rebuilt with guitar riffs that sway like palm trees in the Miami heat.
"It had to feel real," Royce says. "Like something your mom could cry to and your cousin could dance to at the same time." Spoiler: mission accomplished.
The move to vinyl isn't just about nostalgia, it's about permanence. In an era of algorithmic playlists and disposable singles, holding Eterno on vinyl is an act of rebellion. It's saying: this music deserves space on your shelf, not just a spot in your shuffle.
Collectors have been buzzing about the blue jay double LP since the preorders quietly went live earlier this year. The gatefold jacket feels luxurious, the poster is a nod to old-school fan culture, and the record's surface carries that satisfying weight that streaming can never replicate. Drop the needle, and the opening chords of "Dancing in the Moonlight" don't just play, they shimmer, filling the room with warmth that only vinyl can deliver.
There's also symbolism here. Royce built his career in the digital era, his breakout "Stand By Me" became a YouTube sensation before bachata was trending on global playlists. Now, fifteen years later, he's pressing his most daring project onto a format older than him. It's a full-circle moment: the dreamer from the Bronx turned international superstar, giving his audience a record they can literally touch.
From "Stand By Me" to Eterno
It's hard to overstate what "Stand By Me" meant for Royce. At just 19, his bilingual cover catapulted him into the spotlight. Miami became the stage for his breakout moment, when he performed at Premio Lo Nuestro and suddenly people were stopping him on the street.Fast-forward to today: 22 number-one radio hits, multiple platinum records, 25 Billboard Latin Music Awards, 21 Premio Lo Nuestro trophies, and 15 Latin GRAMMY nominations. It's a résumé most artists would kill for. But Eterno isn't about padding stats, it's about legacy.
Royce knows he could have played it safe. Another bachata original, another duet, another collaboration with a reggaeton star. Instead, he took the risk of reinterpreting sacred pop songs—and then took it a step further by immortalizing them on vinyl.
"There's pressure, of course," he admits. "You don't want to mess with something sacred. But I wanted to do it right, to honor those songs and still make them mine."
Running, Resetting, and Mental Health
Part of what makes Eterno resonate is the space Royce himself is in. He's no longer just the teenage heartthrob with a flawless falsetto, he's a grown man who runs marathons, listens to jazz, and talks openly about mental health."Running helps me reset," he says. "I listen to motivational podcasts, I wind down at night with jazz or yoga music, even if I don't actually do yoga," he laughs.
For Royce, Eterno is more than music; it's therapy. And pressing it onto vinyl adds another layer of ritual. There's something grounding about flipping a record, about pausing to listen without distraction. It's the same mindfulness he encourages in his fans.
"It's important to disconnect," he says. "To take care of yourself. You need rituals, little ones, even. Whether it's music, or working out, or just staying off your phone for a bit. The mind needs that."
The vinyl edition of Eterno is a double LP, spreading its thirteen tracks across four sides of wax. Among the highlights:
"Dancing in the Moonlight" (King Harvest)
"Stuck On You" (Lionel Richie)
"Can't Help Falling in Love" (Elvis Presley)
"I Just Called to Say I Love You" (Stevie Wonder)
"Yesterday" (The Beatles)
"I Want It That Way" (Backstreet Boys)
And yes, his mom's favorite, "How Deep Is Your Love," originally recorded by the Bee Gees, made the cut. Smart man.
With its distinctive color, the vinyl is already being eyed as a collector's item. Given Royce's global fan base, don't be surprised if copies disappear quickly.
So, what does this vinyl release mean in the bigger picture? For Royce, it's a reminder of where he's been and where he's going. For fans, it's a chance to reconnect with music in its most tactile form. And for bachata, it's proof that the genre continues to evolve, not just on Spotify playlists, but on turntables around the world.
Fifteen years after "Stand By Me," Prince Royce is still reinventing how we listen. With Eterno on vinyl, he invites us not just to stream, but to stop, to spin, to feel.
And maybe, just maybe, to cry, dance, and text that one ex — all while the needle traces grooves that will outlive us all.
