The buzz over Narco Cultura is causing audiences to sigh again about poor Mexico--so far from God, so close to the United States blah blah blah. About the country's failed status. About the continued degradation of cultura. A Two Minutes Hate for our neighbors south of the border. But this attention proves again two realities that Mexicans know: Americans will believe anything about Mexico a white "authority" tells them, and only then. And the lamestream media is as lazy as ever.
First off, a primer about the specific movement at the center of Narco Cultura. The main group highlighted, an LA-based outfit called BuKnas de Culiacán (each part a signifier in narco cultura: BuKnas being a shoutout to Buchanan's the Cristal of narcocorridos, and Culiacán being the center of Narcolandia), is featured in this video produced by Twiins Enterprise, the Brill Building of movimiento alterado music. It's called "Sanguinarios de M1" (The Bloodthirsty Ones from M1), highlights all the groups in the Twiins' roster at the time, and is as jaunty as it is disturbing. Enjoy!
If our newfound experts on Mexican music would've remembered their Grey Lady, they would've recalled a 2006 profile by my pal Josh Kun highlighting Los Twiins. Back then, they were promoting a single that would call for amnesty for undocumented folks. Back then, other groups were dominating the narcocorrido racket--except they were known as corridos pesados. And that movement itself was just an evolution from the narcocorridos pioneered by groups such as Los Tucanes de Tijuana during the 1990s. And they were, in turn, influenced by norteño icons Los Tigres del Norte, Los Cadetes de Linares, and Los Alegres de Terán, groups that first made their bones praising drug lords and violence during the 1970s and 1980s. And that era saw the rise of the narcopelícula ("narco film") genre, wildly popular bloodthirsty affairs usually starting the brothers Almada, Mario and Fernando. And those two genres built on drug songs ranging from "El Contrabando del Paso" to even "La Cucaracha."
In other words, there's nothing new whatsoever about BuKnas and their contemporaries.
Mario Almada: The Charles Bronson of Mexico
Songs glorifying the drug trade and violence is a part of Mexican music, just like it is in American music. And if it seems amplified in Mexican culture, that's because it is: folk music will always serve as a newspaper of el pueblo as opposed to pop music, and violence has been part of Mexican society in one way or another since the Mexican Revolution. And the working classes will always glorify the badasses of the era--the more criminal, the better (see: Stagger Lee). Simple sociology, you know?
Critics might argue that the new songs are more explicit in their descriptions of violence--but the same is true of culture worldwide, and such ahistorical whining is nothing new: the Los Angeles Times, in one of the first MSM articles on narcocultura back in the 1990s (in an article I currently can't find because my pinche Lexis Nexis is down) found a Socrates-era quote bemoaning how youth even then were coarsening culture. Even then.
The movimento alterado has been especially huge in Southern California, and has been the topic of much soul-searching in Mexican and Mexican-American circles--yet it has received no attention until now. And why now? Because a gabacho did a documentary about it. And, of course, once a gabacho does something, it becomes news for other gabachos.