How Intocable’s Grammy-winning sound began with dreams, a cow and imagination

How does a legendary band in the highly competitive field of norteño music celebrate three decades of non-stop hitmaking?

Most would be perfectly content with a lavish anniversary tour across Mexico and the U.S., and that’s exactly what Intocable is doing. But the six musicians from Zapata, Texas, took an extra step: Earlier this year, they released “Modus Operandi,” Intocable’s most ambitious and adventurous album to date.

“We never intended to appear daring or rebellious,” says Ricky Muñoz, the band’s singer and accordionist, when asked about the radical sound of the band’s latest effort. “The idea was to make an album that felt comfortable to us. Let’s enjoy the moment and free ourselves. Let’s make the kind of music that will please the inner children still living in our hearts.”

It’s a blistering afternoon in downtown L.A., and Intocable is about to hold a press conference at the Grammy Museum, where the group will donate an accordion to the institution’s permanent collection. We’re in the lobby of a luxury hotel, steps away from the rooftop event, but in keeping with the humble ethos of most norteño musicians, our interview setup is entirely improvised. After looking around, a couple of chairs are borrowed.

We sit in an empty hallway — the six musicians side by side, including René Orlando Martínez, drums; Sergio Serna, percussion; Johnny Lee Rosas, second vocals; Alejandro Gulmar, bajo sexto; and Felix Salinas, bass. They form a horizontal line, listening intently to each other as they dissect the bold sonics of the new record.

“Sure, we play the instruments of a typical norteño conjunto,” reflects Muñoz. “Our music, however, is anything but.”

When Muñoz’s grandfather sold a cow so that he could afford a brand new accordion for his nieto, he probably never imagined that he was investing in a future norteño powerhouse. But Mexican music wasn’t the only influence that Muñoz and his bandmates grew up with.

“Being from a small town strengthened our imagination,” says Muñoz, a nostalgic tinge in his eyes. “We couldn’t see Van Halen live — they would never make it to Zapata, of course — but we spent a lot of time imagining what it would be like to see them in concert.”

Intocable’s musical influences can easily be traced back to the ‘60s, ‘70s and ‘80s.

“No matter what people may say, we happened to grow up listening to music from the best decades,” adds Martínez. “We’re from a small town, and relied on MTV and the ‘Night Tracks’ television show to discover new music. But the influence was huge.”

From its inception, Intocable blended norteño with the slick sheen of commercial Latin balladry (think Camilo Sesto, or Leo Dan), gaining millions of fans in the process. But the songs on “Modus Operandi” — and the production by veteran helmer Don Was, of Rolling Stones and Bob Dylan fame — betray a deep and precise kinship with mainstream pop-rock, from the Beatles and Led Zeppelin to Foo Fighters.

This progressive bend — highly unusual for a genre that tends to reward the comforts of a conservative aesthetic — is not entirely new. On the band’s 2019 album “Percepción,” the track “Tu Soledad y la Mía” begins with the hum of an electric guitar and a rock ’n’ roll drum fill. When the first chorus segues into an accordion solo, Muñoz takes off into wondrous new directions. His melody twists and spirals, a haunting, timeless lament that would feel at home in many different styles and settings.

“I remember exactly how that solo came to be,” he says with a smile. “Johnny and I were at the rancho in Texas, working on the melody, and as he played the last note of his guitar, I thought of Nirvana — those passages where they switch to a minor key and everything is transformed. That kind of influence is always there, although on an unconscious level.”

A similar solo graces “Obsesión,” the opening track of the new album, a previously unreleased original by Argentina’s Leo Dan — master of the baroque ballad. The band also delved into musical archaeology on the title track, “Modus Operandi.”

“We were in the studio with Don Was, who doesn’t speak a lick of Spanish, and the original version of the tune wasn’t really working out,” Muñoz remembers. “Then Johnny brought out a riff — the first riff he ever played, when he was 13 and got his first guitar. That’s what ended up on ‘Modus Operandi.’ This kind of detail may sound fractious compared to where this genre stands right now. To us, it’s normal.”

There’s nothing normal about “Sin Morir (No Puedo),” either. A self-professed “bonus track” at the tail end of the album, it is a brief majestic ballad anchored to Muñoz’s vocals, lilting acoustic guitar, and a lush string section arranged by David Campbell — Beck’s father.

“This is why we went independent and have our own record label,” adds Martínez. “We have nothing to prove now. We have only ourselves to satisfy — not the needs of an accountant.”

Intocable’s 30th anniversary tour began in July in Hermosillo, and will conclude in December with two dates in Monterrey. Los Angeles, Las Vegas and many Texas cities are also part of the trek.

I ask Muñoz if the band feels invigorated by the current surge in música mexicana spearheaded by global stars like Peso Pluma.

“I can’t give you an informed opinion, because I don’t really listen to those artists,” he admits. “Young musicians have access to new tools that allow them to promote their music. But I don’t even know what instruments they play, or how their songs are made. It’s like if you asked me about hip-hop. I know it’s a major force in pop culture, but I haven’t been influenced by it.”

Muñoz lights up when asked about the band’s next step. After such a transcendent album as “Modus Operandi,” does the prospect of returning to the studio feel daunting?

“Eventually we’ll have to address the elephant in the room and go back,” he says. “We have no idea what will transpire. Usually we start jamming, and then an unexpected moment takes place. When that happens, you better press the Record button, because that moment of inspiration will fade away just as swiftly as it arrived. Next thing you know we’re sitting here talking about the experience, and you don’t really remember how it all happened.”

“Art takes time,” Muñoz adds. “We don’t paint houses here. We are painting the ‘Mona Lisa.’ ”