Trio Keeps Folk-Song Tradition Alive, One Song and $5 at a Time

They come out at night, driving the streets of the northeast San Fernando Valley in a rusty and faded Datsun station wagon, wearing cowboy hats and carrying guitars, an accordion, a guitarron and a fired-up attitude.

Meet “ Luces del Valle, “ a trio of musicos, street musicians who make their living by playing local cantinas.

“We do what we know best, and we do it with pride,” says Faustino Melgar, the accordion player whose favorite melodies are corridos and rancheras, upbeat folk songs.

They play a little bit of everything--romantic boleros to narratives about rural life set to a polka beat.

There used to be many such groups in the bars of the northeast Valley, looking for music lovers willing to spend a few bucks.

But times are changing, says Jose Silva, 64, a longtime Valley musico . “The cantinas are closing down and the tradition is dying.”

Of the surviving cantinas, “These days, you can count them with your fingers,” says Silva, the guitarron player . “Some of them are now dancing bars, and they have their own bands.”

The trio works nearly every night. They charge $5 a song, which on good nights can earn each $70. “Then we have bad days when we only make around $15,” says Silva.

Their night usually begins at Mijacalito, then off to El Jalisco. From there to Los Amigos, El Norteno and The Woodsman. Sometimes they play small gigs, quinceaneras and baptisms.

“You can’t make it only from music, especially if you have a family,” Silva says, holding his guitarron outside the small Pacoima trailer he shares with his wife.

He used to play in a mariachi group but quit after some of the players got construction jobs and were too tired to play at night.

Melgar, the accordion player, says they occasionally get a drunk customer who wants free music. “We try to be very nice. We tell them, ‘Yes, we’ll be right back’ to play all they want. But we just go somewhere else,” says Melgar.

He said others are told: “When you don’t have money, you don’t get beer; you don’t get free songs either.”

They found a good customer recently at Los Amigos. Wearing a cowboy hat, Corona beer in hand and wearing a five-inch rooster belt buckle, the man requested song after song.

At the end, he paid $60, and after shaking each of their hands, he waved and left the bar singing.