The border between Mexico and the United States is a loud and unwavering place. The car honking is nonstop, music blares from windows and vendors yell out their offerings in a never-ending rhythm. Its this sound that defines Juan Cirerols brand of norteño punk.
I feel like if someone asked what the music of Mexicali, Tijuana, Calexico is, it would be me, the singer says, speaking in Spanish by phone from his home in Mexico City. I think Im the Baja California style.
Originally from the blazing-hot Baja California desert town of Mexicali, Cirerol gives a punk-rock immediacy to the upbeat folk-country sounds of norteño, an accordion-driven genre popular in Mexico and U.S. border regions. Hes spent the past few years gaining a devoted following in Mexico, and now hes begun introducing American listeners to his style, which draws as much from Johnny Cash as norteño superstars Ramón Ayala and Cornelio Reyna.
I know rock and punk rock, as well, obviously, he says with cocky self-assurance. But, he adds, I try to make my own style—Cirerol fucking punk-rock.
Cirerol, 24, likes to wear plaid cowboy shirts and always seems to appear in press photos with a cigarette in his mouth. Though hes baby-faced, he has a defiant stare and the voice of a grizzled older man. He primarily sings in Spanish as he strums out rollicking folk tunes about the drug trade, girls, prescription medication and the monotony of middle-class life, but as with most border-dwelling folk, a few English words tend to sneak in.
On his latest effort, last years Haciendo Leña, Cirerol limits himself to guitar and occasionally the harmonica. And while his tunes resemble those of Cash or norteño legend Chalino Sanchez, he often growls or yells out his lyrics like a punk singer—or as though he were singing along to a jukebox in a loud cantina.
He focuses on love in tracks like La Muchacha de las Tierras Lejanas (The Girl from the Far Away Lands) and Mi Amor no Acabará (My Love Will Never End), paying little regard to vocal pitch or tone. These are the kind of songs a drunken man sings outside his lovers window at 3 a.m.
As a child growing up in Mexicali, Cirerol listened to American and Mexican country radio with his grandfather; he picked up his first guitar at around 4 years old. Later, he took guitar lessons and discovered literature and poetry with his cousin. They began writing stories—epic, Satanic tales full of heroes and bad guys, starring neighborhood bullies or their meaner aunts.
In his teenage years, Cirerol fell into the towns hardcore punk scene, hanging out with Mexicali bands like Maniqui Lazer and blasting records by Alabama spazz-rockers XBXRX in his bedroom. The latter bands weirdly experimental brand of punk seems to have been especially inspiring, serving as a model for Cirerols first band, X=R7, which he started with his cousin.
Around that time, though, Cirerol began harboring a secret love for country music. He started writing songs in the country and norteño style but didnt tell his friends or anyone else.
I assumed they wouldnt like them, he recalls. They were my first judges. I realized I was being stupid for thinking that way.
It was norteños chugging rhythm that drew him in. Eventually, he identified it as his true style. He started a MySpace page under his name and posted four recordings made in Calexico, the sister city that sits just north of Mexicali in the U.S. For Cirerol, it was a way of coming out.
Despite his fears, his friends liked what hed done. As happens on the Internet, one like from a close friend turned into another, and then another. Eventually, Cirerol caught the attention of visual artist Txema Novelo, who put him to work with Vale Vergas Discos, a record label based in Mexico City. He hasnt stopped touring since—he estimates he plays about seven shows a month in the Mexico City area, which is why he recently moved to Mexicos capital.
But even though hes gone country, Cirerol still thinks of himself as a punk.
I like to think and do things in a DIY way. Thats how I consider myself punk, he says in an email. I havent left my ideologies that can be considered dominated by punk. I just decided to do it the way its done in my country.
Now, Cirerol looks forward to touring the States, which he considers a second home, having grown up just blocks from the border crossing. Hes excited to bring his music to the people he feels will most identify with it—the people who have lived so long in that hot, loud border region and have wanted to scream.
This is my land, he says.
Juan Cirerol plays with Dani Shivers and Mohammed Qiang at The Casbah on Sunday, June 10. facebook.com/juan.cirerolSend email to alexz@sdcitybeat.com. You can also bug her on Twitter.
