Authentic Regional Delicacies

Ricardo Cerda, a burly young Mexican American with a shaved head, walked into an L.A. recording studio recently and announced he wanted to be a singer. The kid had moxie but not much else. His voice was so amateurish it would have quickly gotten him hooted off the stage at most decent karaoke bars.

Still, Cerda, 17, managed to land a record deal with Sony Discos, the label that had taken another unpolished homeboy, Lupillo Rivera, from street to stardom in recent years. Nicknamed “El Gavilan,” the Sparrow Hawk, Cerda released his first album in February. On record, he remained excruciatingly true to his vocal limitations.

Surprisingly, even to some Sony execs, the album was a hit. Within days, the label was trumpeting Sparrow Hawk’s debut on Billboard’s Hot Latin Tracks chart. Cerda’s success spotlights a shocking decline in the standards for Mexican regional music, which includes the norteno and banda styles that thrive along the border and have become so popular in L.A. With dismal voices and sometimes raunchy lyrics, California’s most popular regional acts are trashing the image of a genre already considered hick music by hip listeners, as corny as yodeling.

With the exception of established quality acts like Los Tigres del Norte, California’s crass tastes are doing a particular disservice to the historic norteno style, the accordion-propelled genre with a respected pedigree, especially in Texas, where the accordion is king. Music lovers from the Lone Star State are shocked to hear what passes for norteno music on L.A. airwaves.

Call it the Accordion Curtain--the sharp musical boundary between the two regions. Someone like Cerda, who records with both banda and norteno backup, would stand as much of a chance on Texas radio as Davy Crockett did at the Alamo. Conversely, California audiences often don’t get exposed to Texas norteno artists, such as Michael Salgado and Intocable, still among the best in the field.

Texas groups are beginning to make inroads here, as evidenced by the success of Intocable’s latest album. These artists are producing a more refined sound, fusing modern elements while preserving down-home musicianship worthy of the style that originally inspired L.A. Chicano stars Los Lobos. World-music fans may recall the “chicken-skin music” recorded by guitarist Ry Cooder with accordion ace Flaco Jimenez in the mid-1970s. Today, one of the top accordion players is young Sunny Sauceda, with the group Vida.

The undisputed legend of the genre is a Texan who is still unknown to most English-speaking Americans--Ramon Ayala. With his gravelly voice and tight, accomplished conjunto Los Bravos del Norte (The Tough Guys of the North), Ayala has set the standard for norteno music since the 1960s.

This month, Ayala released his 100th album, appropriately titled “El Numero 100,” on Freddie Records.

“The reason why artists such as Ramon Ayala have lasted so long and had such an impact on the industry is not only because the musicianship is superb, but also the songs are always something people can relate to,” says Freddie Martinez Jr., son of the label’s founder. “He just has an incredible knack for picking solid material.”

Well, that should be welcome news to norteno lovers in L.A. who have watched the genre deteriorate into crude, profane dissing matches between rival bands insulting each other with gross lyrics.

How could L.A. music fans, normally demanding of their artists, fall for such low-brow and off-key efforts as those of Cerda and others?

“It’s not as simple as saying this guy is lame on vocals,” says Adrian Trujillo, director of L.A.’s Moon Studios, where El Gavilan was discovered, so to speak. “The whole trick is to sound like you just walked in off the street, took the mike and went at it. You see? You have to sound like you’re not really trying. So people say, ‘He sings terrible, but that could be me.’”

The Cinderfella phenomenon took root on the West Coast thanks primarily to the slain Chalino Sanchez, another inexperienced singer. He became a hot commodity in the 1990s with crudely produced songs about drug-smuggling, known as narcocorridos, which were sold at flea markets. Sanchez, who was murdered in Sinaloa 10 years ago next month, was a role model for the younger Rivera and a flock of imitators.

The unfortunate consequence of their success: Music labels realized that just about anybody could sell records, sparing them the expense of searching for real talent and producing quality recordings. Creatively speaking, the process had sunk to a musical wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am.

Thankfully, the Ayala tradition of strong songs and skilled instrumentals is alive and well in Texas, home to some of the top new norteno bands of the 1990s.

On the occasion of Ayala’s milestone release, it’s fitting to spotlight a few of the current exponents of a Texas sound that fuses straight-up norteno with modern Tejano music, the brassy style popular among young Mexican Americans, such as fans of the late Selena.

Like Selena before her death, these artists remain relatively unknown in California. But for anyone who prefers the thrill of an accomplished accordion or the beauty of clean country harmonies, these bands are worth a listen.

Michael Salgado, “Sangre de Rey,” Sony Discos. This stylish Texan is known as “El Zurdo de Oro,” or the Golden Lefty, for his unusual left-handed technique of playing the accordion, which he holds upside-down. His rugged, gravelly vocal emulates Ramon Ayala, who got his start with the late Cornelia Reyna in another legendary band, Los Relampagos del Norte.

This album, “Sangre de Rey,” which means King’s Blood, is a typical norteno mix of waltzes, corridos and cumbias, plus a heartbreaker of a mariachi track for variety. Salgado and his four-piece backup band, which includes his brother Ernie on bajo sexto guitar and vocal harmony, don’t set the bandstand ablaze. But their cool, tasteful sound goes down as easily as a stroll along the San Antonio River.

Intocable, “Suenos,” EMI Latin. Along with Salgado, this polished sextet is credited with pioneering the Tejano-norteno fusion that marked the 1990s. The band’s founders, Ricardo Munoz and Rene Martinez, were born at the right spot for it, in the border town of Zapata, Texas. It was a point of cultural fusion for the boys, who started playing together when they were 10 and kept an ear tuned to Mexican radio. In 1992, they used their savings to make their first record and were later signed by EMI. From the start, they were driven by a desire to dress up the genre, doing for norteno what Garth Brooks did for country.

They’ve succeeded, perhaps too well, purists might say. This album, also recorded in San Antonio, seems clearly crafted for a pop crossover market, with catchy songs and fancy arrangements.

Los Amos de Nuevo Leon, “Complentamente Tuyos,” Universal Music Latino. This group’s latest record opens with the shouts of excitable female fans who happen upon the boys as they arrive at the next tour stop on a noisy bus. Amid the girls’ Spanish chatter, one says in English: “You guys are bad!” The bilingual dialogue is common in the Mexican border state of Nuevo Leon and its capital, Monterrey, where the fusion groups are popular.

The selections dabble broadly in Latin pop, including tunes by 1960s balladeer Leo Dan and the 1990s salsa romantica songwriting ace Omar Alfanno. This version of Alfanno’s “A Puro Dolor,” popularized by Son by Four, may be dispensable. But the album’s flashy accordion is remarkable.

Pesado, “Presente Futuro,” WEA Mex. This Monterrey, Mexico, group is credited with pioneering the romantic trend in norteno music during the early ‘90s. Although the group’s name means “heavy,” a joking jab at its portly singer and bajo sexto player, the music on its 13th album remains light pop fare of romance and heartbreak. It’s a popular formula imitated by other new Tejano bands.

Conjunto Primavera, “Ansia de Amar,” Fonovisa. Founded in Ojinaga, Chihuahua, this veteran group has been around for two dozen years and about as many albums. Here, the players deserve honorable mention on the strength of their powerful and keenly harmonized vocals alone. Unlike their unschooled West Coast counterparts, these guys didn’t just walk in off the street singing like this.

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Agustin Gurza is a Times staff writer.