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Mario Moreno Quintero, electric bass player for Los Tucanes de Tijuana, smiles at fans during a concert in San Diego. Police have forbidden the band to play in Tijuana, alleging that its songs glorify drug kingpins. (Don Bartletti / Los Angeles Times / July 24, 2010) |
Reporting from San Diego
It was the shout-out heard 'round Tijuana.
Singer Mario Quintero, the mustachioed leader of Los Tucanes de Tijuana, cut into a perky number to yell a greeting to a pair of the band's more ruthless fans, crime bosses known by their nicknames, El Teo and Muletas (Crutches).
"My regards to El Teo, and his compadre, Muletas," Quintero said. "Arriba la maña" — "Mob rules."
The crowd at the historic Agua Caliente racetrack cheered.
The city's top cop, Julian Leyzaola, who was informed later, seethed.
Amid preparations for another Tucanes show in Tijuana last November, where the band was expected to sing a new ode to the drug kingpins, Leyzaola pulled the plug, leaving 11,000 angry ticketholders.
Nearly one year later, the Tucanes remain banned from performing in the city.
"It's sad that we can't play in Tijuana, because it's the place where our band was born," said Quintero, who was interviewed before a show last month in San Diego, the closest thing to a homecoming for the Grammy Award-nominated group.
Musical groups like The Tucanes who play narco-corridos — accordion-inflected ballads that tell the tales of drug kingpins — have been caught in the crossfire of governmental restrictions across Mexico. The music in some cities is muted on radio airwaves, nightclubs and even public buses. Several musicians have been murdered, most likely by traffickers who object to songs glorifying their rivals.
In Tijuana, where bands have been swept up in police raids, the campaign has been extraordinarily aggressive, highlighted by the feud between two of the city's most popular figures: The Norteño band that rose to fame singing about outlaws, and the secretary of public security renowned for locking them up.
Leyzaola, a hard-charging commander, accuses the band of writing a song that included a threat against him. He ordered an investigation and vowed to arrest them if they play in the city again.
Even though Teo (Teodoro Garcia Simental) and Muletas (Raydel Lopez Uriarte) were captured early this year, Leyzaola still considers the band a dangerous influence. The shout-out at their last Tijuana concert to the men who killed 45 of his officers exemplified their close ties to organized crime, he said.
"They were yelling it. In public!" Leyzaola said.
Quintero, the Tucanes' songwriter and lead guitarist, chooses his words carefully when the subject comes up. For a man who cultivates an outlaw image, he's hardly a picture of menace. Mild-mannered, slightly built and polite to a fault, the 40-year-old father of three said his lyrics reflect a harsh reality that threatens at times to even claim him as a victim.
He's a performer, not a saint, however, and ultimately he must answer to his fans, even the most notorious ones. "I'm not justifying them, or approving of what they do. We're people that depend on our public and they deserve our attention," Quintero said. "The señor [Leyzaola] shouldn't fault us for the corridos as if we're responsible for the killing of his police."
::
The Tucanes rose to fame in the 1990s with tunes featuring double-entendres and brash lyrics chronicling the ripped-from-the-headlines adventures of drug traffickers, most prominently the hometown Arellano Felix drug cartel.
The band, made up of cousins originally from Sinaloa, broadened its repertoire with catchy dance tunes and ballads, becoming one of Mexico's most popular acts. The band has sold more than 13 million compact discs and garnered several Grammy nominations.
It was the shout-out heard 'round Tijuana.
Singer Mario Quintero, the mustachioed leader of Los Tucanes de Tijuana, cut into a perky number to yell a greeting to a pair of the band's more ruthless fans, crime bosses known by their nicknames, El Teo and Muletas (Crutches).
"My regards to El Teo, and his compadre, Muletas," Quintero said. "Arriba la maña" — "Mob rules."
The crowd at the historic Agua Caliente racetrack cheered.
The city's top cop, Julian Leyzaola, who was informed later, seethed.
Amid preparations for another Tucanes show in Tijuana last November, where the band was expected to sing a new ode to the drug kingpins, Leyzaola pulled the plug, leaving 11,000 angry ticketholders.
Nearly one year later, the Tucanes remain banned from performing in the city.
"It's sad that we can't play in Tijuana, because it's the place where our band was born," said Quintero, who was interviewed before a show last month in San Diego, the closest thing to a homecoming for the Grammy Award-nominated group.
Musical groups like The Tucanes who play narco-corridos — accordion-inflected ballads that tell the tales of drug kingpins — have been caught in the crossfire of governmental restrictions across Mexico. The music in some cities is muted on radio airwaves, nightclubs and even public buses. Several musicians have been murdered, most likely by traffickers who object to songs glorifying their rivals.
In Tijuana, where bands have been swept up in police raids, the campaign has been extraordinarily aggressive, highlighted by the feud between two of the city's most popular figures: The Norteño band that rose to fame singing about outlaws, and the secretary of public security renowned for locking them up.
Leyzaola, a hard-charging commander, accuses the band of writing a song that included a threat against him. He ordered an investigation and vowed to arrest them if they play in the city again.
Even though Teo (Teodoro Garcia Simental) and Muletas (Raydel Lopez Uriarte) were captured early this year, Leyzaola still considers the band a dangerous influence. The shout-out at their last Tijuana concert to the men who killed 45 of his officers exemplified their close ties to organized crime, he said.
"They were yelling it. In public!" Leyzaola said.
Quintero, the Tucanes' songwriter and lead guitarist, chooses his words carefully when the subject comes up. For a man who cultivates an outlaw image, he's hardly a picture of menace. Mild-mannered, slightly built and polite to a fault, the 40-year-old father of three said his lyrics reflect a harsh reality that threatens at times to even claim him as a victim.
He's a performer, not a saint, however, and ultimately he must answer to his fans, even the most notorious ones. "I'm not justifying them, or approving of what they do. We're people that depend on our public and they deserve our attention," Quintero said. "The señor [Leyzaola] shouldn't fault us for the corridos as if we're responsible for the killing of his police."
::
The Tucanes rose to fame in the 1990s with tunes featuring double-entendres and brash lyrics chronicling the ripped-from-the-headlines adventures of drug traffickers, most prominently the hometown Arellano Felix drug cartel.
The band, made up of cousins originally from Sinaloa, broadened its repertoire with catchy dance tunes and ballads, becoming one of Mexico's most popular acts. The band has sold more than 13 million compact discs and garnered several Grammy nominations.
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