POP GOES POLITICAL

New generation of Mexican artists
deliver scathing social commentary

Photo courtesy of Molotov From left to right: Molotov members Randy Ebright, Micky Huidobro, Paco Ayala and Tito Fuentes. The group once decided to take on the personas of the ‘70s metal band KISS as a parody after the Mexican Catholic Church bashed the North American group as Satanic.

“I’m f---ing sick of you putting a sombrero on me Listen now when I tell you – don’t call me ‘frijolero’ (beaner) And though there’s some respect and we don’t interfere We never inflate currency making war on other countries We pay you our debt with oil and interests But we don’t know who winds up with the change Although we are famous for being the sellers of the drugs we grow, you all are the consumers….” — “Frijolero” by Molotov (translation from Spanish)

By Amy Cook
Adelante Staff Writer

Since early this year, the political chant of “Frijolero” (or in English, “beaner”) has been pouring from Mexican radio, creating a stir with Mexican-Americans and Latin rock fans on both sides of la frontera. The bilingual song by the rap-metal act Molotov, is an incendiary criticism of U.S.-Mexican race relations. “We’re like a social critic,” Molotov vocalist Micky Huidobro said in a NYRock Magazine article. “In Mexico, there are channels for artists without talent, like Ricky Martin, Backstreet Boys or groups like those. They don’t compose their songs…People want to be dancing in discotheques with a lot of girls and having a white convertible, like Ricky Martin does, but that is not the reality. The reality is that people are poor. Most of the people cannot afford to go to a discotheque and buy a drink. That is what we criticize in our songs,” he says.
“Frijolero” is indicative of an entire rebelliously political Mexican musical climate. Trendy radio songs in Mexico perhaps would never fit in the American radio market. Popular music south of the border contrasts heavily with the U.S. brand of whitewashed, pseudo-sincere commentary. In an epoch when our pop political “insights” come from Eminem and Madonna, Mexican artists like Molotov seem like a modern-day Alexis de Tocqueville. Sadly, the American heyday of empowering protest songs almost completely died with the close of the ’60s.
The aforementioned rap features both sides of the coin, from the points of view of a Mexican immigrant and a U.S. Border Patrol agent. The English chorus, Don’t call me gringo you f—ing beaner/Stay on your side of the goddamn river, ferociously slashes the listener. One of their hits, “Gimme tha Power,” deals with corrupt cops, poverty, and bribery. These songs don’t tell the listener to get up and dance, they tell him to get up and fight. And this is pop music?
Music critic and author Enrique Blanc, a native of Guadalajara, Mexico, attributes some of Molotov’s popularity to their corrosive black humor. Their songs deal with “frivolous” and immature issues, but songs with greater depth infiltrate their albums. Songs like “Gimme tha Power,” reflect the feelings Mexicans have against their own government, he says.
“In songs like ‘Gimme tha Power’, they detonate many feelings that the people had towards politicians from some decades in Mexico. This helped to legitimize a discussion that seemed frivolous by songs like ‘Cerdo.’” In other words, Blanc says, Molotov shows how one can be “fun and politically responsible at the same time.”
Mexico City native and former MU graphic design student, Luis Vásquez, echoes many of Molotov’s sentiments. “Mexican culture is becoming more and more proactive,” says Vásquez. After decades of seeing few positive changes in their government, he says, the spirit of rebellion and revolution is strong again in his people. “Our music is reflecting that. We’re sick of being kicked around…we’re sick of being seen as a colony that [Americans] have to check up on.” This popular music, or, “rock en español” as it is called, is both the voice and teacher of the target 15- to 25-year-old audience, an age group that Vásquez says is most willing to effect a change.
Vásquez also says that they Mexican rock reflects what many Mexicans call Yankee imperialism. “It’s a complaint due to—for good or for bad—that we depend on and we are governed by [American] desires.” Ironically, Molotov, the band that earned its fame in criticizing the United States, earns its paycheck by working for an American record label.
Another popular Mexican band, Los Tigres del Norte, dedicate their music to social commentary. Although the band is over 30 years old (compare their longevity to that of Aerosmith or the Stones), they still earn regular radio play. For example, their single, “Somos Mas Americanos” (“We’re More American”), is a message to Americans and to the world that it was their land first: A thousand times they have shouted at me, ‘Go home, you don’t belong here/Let me remind the gringo/That I didn’t cross the border, the border crossed me...And if we go by the centuries/We are more American/We are more American/Than any son of the Anglo Saxon. Through their 30-year career, Los Tigres del Norte have attracted their listeners with norteño rhythm — traditional, upbeat tunes with a modern flair — and dosed them with social messages.

Photo courtesy of Ely Guerra Ely Guerra highlights the struggle of indigenous people in her album Lotofire.

Mexican popular music goes beyond criticizing the United States, the easy target. It also rebels against the abuse and corruption of its own government. The recent decades of political turmoil are the underpinnings for the new rock music. Before Vicente Fox took power in 2000, Mexicans had been ruled with an iron fist by the Institutional Revolutionary Party (PRI) for 71 years. Though Fox had been considered progressive by much of Mexico, some considered his election to be political stagnancy. According to Blanc, another political keystone of this genre is Subcomandante Marcos and the indigenous people of Chiapas. Music with political tones “derives from a situation that lives in each country in determined moments,” says Blanc. It is not merely an independent Mexican phenomenon, he says. One can see political music trends throughout Latin America.
Shots at the government are not the only political manifestations for Mexican singers. Others take a more neo-feminist approach. Ely Guerra, for example, blends her brand of folk-rock with commentary on gender equality. For example, “Yo no,” off her third disc, Lotofire, is a feminist anthem against domestic violence. Her cutting words are those of every woman seeking to find the strength to overcome the emptiness and fear. Also on Lotofire, “Vete,” Ely Guerra comments on the equality of the indigenous people of Chihuahua, Mexico. So much attention has been paid to the plight of the indigenous cultures of Chiapas, she says on her Web site, and very little has been told about the people of Chihuahua. The Chihuahuan indigenous people, the Tarahumara, which according to LatinoLA.com represent 3.21 per cent of the state population, have for years been victims of illegal logging and been dominated by drug lords. In “Vete,” Ely sings from the point of view of an indigenous resident: Get out when you can/because I want to kill you/I am going to defend myself from/now until the end/leave me in silence/now there is nothing/more than speaking/Get out now knowing/that you can’t return/finally I decide/what comes and goes.
For all of the complaints and commentary, Mexican popular musicians still do not offer any solutions. Perhaps there are none. However, they are able to highlight the issues by bringing the problems into an easily accessible medium. That is the first step in change.