Mexico is a brilliant, vivid and diverse land. The borders of this country are caught somewhere between North and Central America, holding a massive space for a motley of ecosystems — from succulent Caribbean beaches to arid western deserts, and pulsing, vibrant cities peppered in between — and different subcultures to develop and flourish independently of one another. It is a place a conquest and unbridled passion, which erupts and then mingles with a certain slow manner of living and an appreciation for all things that are unrefined, but inherently and universally loved. If you’ve ever had street tacos or a luchas wrestling match, you know exactly what I’m talking about.
From a history firmly rooted in strife and crisis, a contemporary Mexico has emerged with a flavor, dialect and appeal that’s all its own. From Tijuana in the north to Aguascalientes in the center and the Riviera Maya in the south, nothing comes easy and everything must always be earned. The upwelling of creativity that is sparked by this amalgam of struggle and hope begs for a release and, in Mexico, the answer is music.
The adjective ‘Mexican’ has the ability to inspire emotions within a person that most countries don’t, or can’t — and that’s not without reason. Mexico receives a lot of attention for things that are immensely polarizing, from politics and drug warfare to the protection of its pristine beaches, Aztec ruins and tropical jungles; ecological wonders that can be found nowhere else in the world. Most foreigners have a picture of the food, music and culture of this Latin country that is hard to shake; stereotypes which seem innocuous, but are not victimless.
Mexico is many things, but it is not neon colors spun into a ikat pattern and strewn across a table. Mexico is not tequila, limes and salt — or mezcal, to those who are partial. Mexico is not a mariachi band playing from the corner of a half-empty cantina restaurant in the American southwest, though the typical guitar, voice, marimba, maracas and deep, rolling vocals have come to encapsulate all of Mexican music. There’s a certain ancestral sound to this music that hits us right in the gut, as if we grew up with our parents crooning and swaying to it our childhood kitchens (even if they did nothing of the sort), but Mexican music has grown up a lot in the past 20 years.
It’s taken on a life of itself and transformed into something that, at times, does not at all resemble its predecessors or the traditional Latin American elements.
Who are Mexico’s Indie Producers?
At the heart and soul of this new age movement are independent music producers. These are creative souls, driven to make sounds that reflect the beating of their own hearts, who refuse to be shackled to a record label, recording company, or anyone offering them a contract. Independent (‘indie’) producers do this because recording companies have a tendency to puppeteer the process of creating music — when you’re dealing with creatives, ‘control’ doesn’t often lead to the transcendent results that one desires.
It’s not an easy way to live out one’s dream. The indie path is fraught with hardship, especially for those who nurture dreams of ‘making it big’ but hail from smaller states. In fact, the journey from bright-eyed musical talent to bonafide music producer is so contentious that a palpable resentment has developed between those from large cities, such as Mexico City and Guadalajara, and those from smaller towns with less people, less interest in local musicians and less public opportunities for artists. Elesvan Alcazar, an alternative musician from the tiny city of Durango (with a population of little more than 500,000 people in 2010) knows this struggle personally.
“The only music schools are in Guadalajara, Monterrey, and Mexico City,” explained Elesvan. “If a person from Durango wants to learn music, it’s hard to know where to look or how to start.” That’s not the only issue. If a person is able to educate themself in the musical arts and purchase (or pawn) the necessary equipment, the likelihood of being ‘discovered’ in small towns in slim to none. Foreign music is what’s in vogue, generally from the United States, and as far as Mexican music goes, it seems that there’s only a market for the soulless trilling of overplayed Mariachi songs. To Elesvan, it lacks ingenuity. “It’s hard to see young artists believe what they’re told in the movies, that they’ll be discovered playing in bars,” Elesvan laments. “That’s not the reality.”
Earning Your Music
Without the support and presence of managers (most managers migrate to the cities, where musicians have the education and resources that are unavailable to small town producers) live shows, music halls, festivals and recording opportunities remain woefully out of reach. Small artists remain just that: small, and no one ever gets to experience their art.
Mental health, amongst the musician community worldwide, is also a big concern. The constant struggle to earn a living making music, when aligned with the cycle of time-consuming leads, rejection and dead-ends, takes its toll. Independant musicians appear to be predisposed to anxiety, depression and panic attack with 73% experience negative mental health symptoms regularly. The numbers are staggering, but Elesvan says it is not entirely hopeless. If anything, at least downtrodden musicians are struggling to complete their soul’s work. Elesvan posits that, for musicians who heed their call to create, the typical 9-5, office-based role with codes of conducts and a biweekly paycheck might come its own set to challenges and factors that might lead to depression anyways.
The key to success, he says, is for independent musicians to be resourceful and confident. “You have to get out of your comfort zone. You have to play for others outside of your group of friends. You have to go out and be in the actual experience of making music.” Alas, that means immigrating from their tiny provinces to the cities like Monterrey or Guadalajara where there’s a heightened interest in music — independent music, at that. “Once you’re there, you’ll discover that people actually love your music. People will come out to see you, and add you to their playlists.” In the cities, there’s a culture that welcomes creativity, has a hunger for new talent and maintains and infrastructure of managers, booking agents and venues that drives this thriving indie ecosystem. It’s a whole different ballgame, and the sense of community helps many new artists spread their wings.
“Once I was playing in Mazatlan, a beach city a few hours outside of Durango. I was opening for Babasonicos, one of my favorite Latin bands at the time,” described Elesvan. “When the concert was finished, I went out the beach and found the singer from Babasonicos. We got to talking and discussed music for hours. This guy was doing all the talking — I was busy taking mental notes.” As they chatted, Elesvan discovered that he and the singer had much in common. “He told me all about how they started in a small town in Argentina, worked multiple jobs and even went hungry at times to afford their music production. Now they’re one of the most important bands in Latin America. He was really the first person to make me believe that success was within reach.”
Location, Location, Location
That’s a beautiful sentiment, but where you’re born in Mexico has an undeniable implications when considering the hurdles one must jump in order to produce music independently. Money is a big factor, and cities are decidedly exorbitant, so artists oftentimes return home so that their project has a chance to survive. If their home is in places like Aguascalientes, Leon or Tijuana they are in luck — these states have designated governmental bodies to support the arts and develop programs in their cities. This includes help with recording studios and festivals and making tours. There are radio stations specifically for alternative and local music in big cities. Unfortunately, states such as Durango, Culiacan, Quintana Roo are veritable wastelands for original Mexican compositions.
It’s not all about rules and restrictions and government assistance, though. This country is big, surprisingly so — nearly 2 million kilometers squared, almost the entire span of Europe. There’s enough physical space in Mexico to allow many different distinct sounds to independently coexist, completely within their own universe, gradational pull and orbital rotations. In the north we have the romantic ballads called corridos, while in the center people love to move their bodies to the sounds of cumbia and salsa. The south sports the distinct styles of vercruzano and son jarocho, where the unique instruments and several singers are delightfully boisterous. Sometimes, the only chance these traditional, local beats have to intermingle is in those aforementioned big cities, which act as a Mecca for the best talent from each of these areas and styles — but even the cities manage to distinguish themselves from one another.
“Monterrey is known for their technology, and they love to experiment. There, musicians make sounds that are really authentic. Mexico City is like New York, so people there really try to distill popular music to make it their own. Guadalajara attracts a lot of young people from a lot of different genres, from rock to rap to reggae, so there’s always a fresh perspective,” explains Elesvan.
Mexican music, in general, is beautiful and dynamic. It swings from joyous to forlorn to inebriated without as much as a thought, but most of the Mexican music you hear outside of Mexico has big money and giant record labels propelling it upwards. “A lot of these big bands sell out by imitating the traditional Mexican sounds,” Elesvan shared, “but when you live here, you notice the diversity. The talent is here.”
If Mexican music cannot be considered new, but at the same time it’s not old, then what is it?
It’s soul. It’s a unique story begging to be shared. It’s a personal taste developed from scarcity. It’s a poetic inclination that burrows deep to glimpse at a person’s innermost inspiration. It’s a reflection of the way the Mexican people live — and life in Mexico is lived hard. However, it is only because of darkness are we able to appreciate the light, and the Mexican people appreciate life in a way that is hard to identify elsewhere. If you walk down a street in a Mexican pueblo, you’ll find friends laughing and gossiping on every street corner; you’ll find business men eating at the taco cart at 9:00 am; you’ll find several generations of families peacefully living under the same roof. This delightful appreciation for life is clear through their sounds and lyrics, beautifully and healthily balanced with every other emotion on the human spectrum. Economic problems and active drug trades can’t quell their sense of spiritual innocence.
Elesvan himself is working on a new album and scheduling a tour, possibly in Scandinavia and Europe. It’s a lofty goal, but Elesvan believes that it’s every Mexican musician’s responsibility to honor their homeland by bringing their country to the word, to be an ambassador and show what Mexico is really about — the real Mexico, the independent Mexico, the Mexico that comes directly from the people rather than big record labels and marketing programs. Consumers also share the responsibility of loving and revering the truth of Mexico, not a Cinco de Mayo-esque shell of what it could be.
It’s not just in Mexico’s best interest, but all of ours. Doesn’t everyone deserves to be heard and appreciated for their individual ideas and sounds, after all? No matter whether they come from a city or town, no matter if it’s big or small.
