Pubdate: Fri, 19 Feb 1999 Source: New York Times (NY) Copyright: 1999 The New York Times Company Contact: http://www.nytimes.com/ Forum: http://forums.nytimes.com/comment/ Author: Sam Dillon MEXICO'S TROUBADORS TURN FROM AMOR TO DRUGS SAN LUIS POTOSI, Mexico -- As Mario Quintero steps to the microphone, strums his guitar and begins singing about the pleasures of snorting cocaine after a few drinks, scores of teen-age girls crowd the outdoor stage screaming, "I love you, Mario!" Quintero and his wildly popular band, the Tucanes de Tijuana, or Toucans of Tijuana, follow with a song about a smuggler's love for his rooster, parrot and goat, underworld symbols for marijuana, cocaine and heroin. "I live off my three fine animals," Quintero sings to roars of approval from thousands of cowboy-hatted fans packed into an outdoor concert grounds here. His next ballad is "Most Wanted Men," in which he assumes the voice of a powerful trafficker who boasts about bribing politicians and the police "to control whole countries." The Tucanes are one of the most successful of hundreds of Mexican country bands whose lyrics chronicle traffickers' daily lives and violent routines. The extraordinary popularity of their music here and in the United States underscores the profound roots the drug industry has sunk into North American popular culture, suggesting that millions of fans quietly admire the smugglers' fabled wealth, anti-establishment bravura and bold entrepreneurial skills. "The drug trade has permeated our social fabric," said Manuel Valenzuela, a professor at a research institute in Tijuana who studies the drug ballads, known in Spanish as narco-corridos. "The political elite, the army, the church and the banks have all been corrupted, and in this context many young people see in narcotics their route to early wealth, even if they fear dying before they're 25. The corridos just reflect this evolution." Mexican songwriters have been composing corridos for at least a century, chronicling the heroic deeds of revolutionary generals and border brigands. Marijuana and opium smugglers became the subjects of choice in the 1970s, with the early corridos often concluding with morality lessons about the evils of the drug trade. But in the '90s, young musicians like the Tucanes have carried the corridos toward overt celebration of the narcotics culture, punctuating many recordings with machine-gun fire and police sirens. Lidia Salazar, a marketing executive for EMI Music Mexico, said the Tucanes sold 2.5 million CDs in 1997 and might have exceeded that record last year had the government not barred corridos from the airwaves. "Radio stations all over Mexico have told us that the Interior Ministry has forbidden them from playing the corridos," Ms. Salazar said. A senior government official said there was no formal ban. But the official acknowledged that Interior Minister Francisco Labastida Ochoa had repeatedly met the owners of radio stations and leaders of the National Chamber of the Radio and Television Industry to condemn the corridos. Ochoa was expressing his view "that making drug traffickers into heroes is damaging to Mexican youth." Quintero, 28, and his three fellow musicians were born in the hills of Sinaloa, the state that is a major opium and marijuana producer and is the birthplace of most major Mexican traffickers. Like many other Sinaloans, they migrated to Tijuana as teen-agers, working for a time in factories there before forming the Tucanes in 1987 to play for local dances and house parties. Their first hit was in 1992, "Clave Privada," or "Private Pin." It chronicled the exploding use of beepers among drug wholesalers and their street salesmen in Mexico and the United States. Their notoriety spread in 1997, when a magazine, Proceso, published the confession of an accused trafficker, Alejandro Hodoyan, who in a lurid description of the Tijuana drug underworld said Quintero had composed many corridos that documented killings carried out by the Arellano Felix brothers, who are said to control the drug trade in northwestern Mexico. Quintero's corridos outline a code of behavior for traffickers, Hodoyan said, adding: "If you listen carefully, the songs tell how the Arellanos killed these people. I don't know how he gets his information. But through the corridos comes the philosophy, how the members of the cartel have to behave. They tell you what they did wrong. Why they were killed. You learn what you have to do so they won't kill you." In appreciation of the Tucanes' insightful work, the Arellanos bought them uniforms, sound equipment and a touring bus, Hodoyan said. In a preconcert interview in their bus in San Luis Potosi, Quintero denied knowing the Arellanos. "We worked for years playing private parties in Tijuana," he said. "We don't know everyone who hired us, and we didn't ask to see their police records." Quintero, who writes all the Tucanes material, said he gleaned his material from the daily press. "This is like news writing," he said, asserting that fans, like newspaper readers, are fascinated by the details of the top traffickers' lives. "Just their names sell recordings," he said. On the concert tour, the Tucanes appear to be models of clean living. They pump up before performances by guzzling fruit milkshakes, and on stage they drink only bottled water. "I want to be a good example to my children," said Clemente Flores, the bass player. But they cultivate a violent image, pretending in their music videos to be the gunslinging traffickers of their ballads. In one popular video, Quintero and his accordion player kill several police officers with automatic rifles. In another, they appear alongside a man tied to a chair who is being tortured, apparently by traffickers. Other corrido singers have blurred the distinction between life and art, with violent consequences. Chalino Sanchez, a corrido singer from Los Angeles who liked to keep a pistol thrust in his belt at performances, was killed by gunmen in Culiacan, Sinaloa, after a concert in May 1992. The violent backdrop of the music has prompted academic debate. "In seminars people stand up and say, 'Corridos are terrible, they glorify criminals,"' a professor in Mexico City, Jorge Chabat, said. "And they do, of course. But people like them, and this is related to the Mexican psyche. People see traffickers as men of humble origins who defy the power structure. That can be attractive. Traffickers are a kind of self-made man, Mexican style." Another professor, Maria Herrera-Sobek, argued at a conference at the University of California at Los Angeles last year that corridos celebrate the same masculine virtues assigned to war heroes in the United States and Europe. "They attribute to traffickers characteristics that indicate a high degree of respect, including bravery, manliness, justice and candor," Professor Herrera-Sobek said. "Others that are not necessarily tied to morality but are positive values within our culture are cunning, strength, fame and ferocity." At the San Luis Potosi concert grounds, Luis Gaspar Perez, 30, the manager of a grocery store, stood watching the performance, his breath hanging heavy in the chill night air as he explained his devotion to the Tucanes. "They tell the truth about our society," Gaspar said. - --- MAP posted-by: Richard Lake