Viva la Musica

Alex Coolman

Ricky Martin got it wrong.

The immensely popular Puerto Rican musician’s song “La Vida Loca” has

been virtually the anthem of summer -- a piece of music, blasted out of

car speakers and across nightclub floors, whose rhythms seem to assert

the fact that today’s existence, at least for Latinos, is “the crazy

life.”

But in Costa Mesa’s Latino community, a very different rhythm can be

heard. It is not that of a life out of control but of day-to-day

existence in a community still very much concerned with preserving its

own traditions and values.

Call it “La Vida Diaria,” The Daily Life: it’s the music of Costa

Mesa’s Latinos. And if it isn’t playing on every radio station and dance

floor, it’s nevertheless a beat of tremendous vitality.

The Next Big Thing

Inside a battered garage on Washington Street, where the walls are

lined with carpet, where cables and extension chords litter the floor,

and only a single lightbulb burns overhead, the Sangre Joven quintet work

on what they hope will be the next big thing. The Costa Mesa group

(their name means “‘Young Blood” in Spanish) play “Grupera” music, a

style of upbeat dance music that is, as 21-year-old guitarist Martin

Ramirez put it, “pretty romantic.” “It’s the type of music that talks

about life and women and love,” Ramirez said. Ramirez and his band

members, most of whom came to Costa Mesa from the Mexican state of

Michoacan six years ago, play their music -- songs like “Recuerdos de Una

Noche” (Memories of a Night), “Estar Sin Ti” (Living Without You), and

“Mi Adoracion” (“My Adoration”) -- primarily at parties and weddings. But

they’re in the process of recording a demo tape and hope eventually to

release some full-length albums. “That’s what we’ve been dreaming of

since we were kids,” Ramirez said. “We started out in the backyard,

playing on cans and such.”

Sangre Joven’s members are musically adept and mature performers,

although they are mostly in their early twenties and their drummer,

Estancia High student Jaime Alvarez, is only 16. Despite their musical

abilities, their ability to appeal to a large audience worries Ramirez.

“There’s not lots of people that like our [Grupera] type of music,”

Ramirez said. He felt that radio disc jockeys were more interested in

playing nortenos, a polka or waltz-style of music that emphasizes the use

of the accordion.

But Grupera is what they play in Michoacan, and it’s what Sangre

Joven does best. In time, Ramirez suggested, musical trends may change to

catch up with the band. Until then, Sangre Joven will keep practicing.

To the extent that Costa Mesa has a scene of Spanish-speaking bands, it

is composed of acts like this. Though the community has Spanish-language

music stores like the 19th Street shops Samara Musical and Discoteca

Otomi, the number of groups actually from the area is small. Sangre Joven

and the band La Chicanita y Sus Primos are the acts most people talk

about.

Mariachi musicians frequently play in local restaurants like El

Ranchito and Costa Brava, but they often live elsewhere. Ramiro

Castellanos and Javier Cardenas, mariachis who played a recent evening at

El Ranchito, drove in from Anaheim to do so. Live Spanish-language

music persists in Costa Mesa because it is an important component of

private life -- of the kinds of parties and weddings Sangre Joven plays,

said Jose Coronado, pastor of the Costa Mesa church La Vina.

“For a bautismo [baptism] or birthday or just a gathering, [Latinos]

use mariachis or trios,” Coronado said. “To have a mariachi play for five

hours, you have to pay at least $1,500. A lot of money. But that’s what

people love to hear.” Loza had a similar explanation for the

importance of music. For Latinos, he said, “it’s almost like an essential

ingredient. “It touches on your most personal categories of life.

Birthdays, weddings, baptisms ... all these things associated with life

and celebration that can not be separated from spiritual experiences.”

The Church

Francisco Amezcua plays the flute. And the guitar. And the violin and

the piano. He also sings beautifully.

He can’t do all these things at once, of course, but he gets to do the

next best thing. Amezcua, who studies music at Cal State Fullerton, is

the musical coordinator for the Spanish language service at St. Joachim

Catholic Church on Orange Avenue in Costa Mesa. The job is a good one for

a music lover, because so much of the Mass at St. Joachim’s involves

music.

“The only part where you cannot sing is where the priest is talking,”

joked Amezcua, who puts together a program of several songs for each

service, arranging parts for voice, guitar, upright bass, flute, mandolin

and percussion.

Amezcua’s group of musicians performs songs such as “Christo

Libertador” (“Christ the Liberator”) and “Pescador de Hombres” (“Fisher

of Men”) -- songs that, Amezcua says, “show people of every race that

everybody’s the same, that nobody’s different.”

The congregation participates enthusiastically in many of these

pieces, a fact Amezcua attributes to the high profile of music in the

Latino household.

“People from Latin America, most of the houses have at least one

guitar,” Amezcua said. “Whenever we have an opportunity to sing, we

sing.”

Twelve-year-old Patty Hernandez, a Costa Mesa resident and member of

St. Joachim’s choir, had a somewhat different reaction to being

introduced to the musical group.

“My mom brought me here. I didn’t want to come,” Hernandez said. “I

never wanted to sing. I never had the passion to sing.”

Gradually, however, Hernandez developed an enthusiasm for her work in

the choir.

“After a while, I started to feel happiness,” she said. “I started

finding the passion.”

Amezcua said he feels that the performance of his musicians plays an

important role in determining the value of the service at St. Joachim’s.

“We are like a kind of mirror so Latin people can see themselves,”

Amezcua said. “If we show good commitment to play well, to improve our

abilities, we help our community.”

The Home

Costa Mesa students Miguel Urquiza and Manolo Sifuentes are fond of a

band -- Enanitos Verdes -- whose name translates, approximately, to The

Green Midgets.

Urquiza and Sifuentes, like many other Latino teens, are fans of rock

en espanol, a genre of music that has blossomed in recent years. Rock en

espanol acts like Mana, La Ley, Caifanes and Cafe Tacuba are favorites

with young Latino audiences, who are exposed to the bands through friends

and on Spanish-language radio stations like 97.5 FM and 98.9 FM.

The absolute best music, says Urquiza, is that of rappers like Snoop

Doggy Dog, Eminem and Jay-Z. But when asked to sum up his musical tastes,

Urquiza gives an intriguing response.

“Mostly hip-hop,” the 15-year-old says. “And a little ranchera.”

Ranchera, a form of Mexican country music, captured Urquiza’s

affections by a different avenue than rock en espanol or hip-hop: he

heard the music in his parents’ record collection.

“My parents listen to it and stuff, and I got sort of into it two

years ago,” Urquiza said.

Music played at home is very influential for Latino youths because the

home is so central to Latino culture, said Steve Loza, professor of

ethnomusicology at UCLA and author of the book “Barrio Rhythm: Mexican

American Music in Los Angeles.” “Part of Mexican culture is retaining

music in the house,” Loza said. “In the personal setting of the

household, these songs are sacred.”

Priscilla Sanchez, a 16-year-old Costa Mesa student, is also an

aficionado of the traditional Latino styles she grew up with. Merengue,

cumbia and salsa are among her favorites styles, along with rock en

espanol.

“It’s a lot more fun than hip-hop and rap,” Sanchez said.

Seventeen-year-old Costa Mesa student Juliana Ocon likes Ricky Martin,

but also admits having a soft spot for the merengue tunes she’s heard her

parents play.

“You become used to it,” she said. “You kind of like it.

“Your parents always say that their music’s better because it actually

says something,” Ocon said. “Ours does too, you just have to listen to

it.”

If the Spanish-language music scene in Costa Mesa hasn’t yet managed

to become thoroughly commodified, if the next Ricky Martin is not

crooning on 19th Street, Loza suggests this may be something to be

grateful for: the very lack of high-profile exposure, he suggested, makes

the personal musical traditions that are truly vital to the community

more visible. “The great music is the one that lasts,” Loza said.

“That’s the one that’s reserved for these very special rituals and

special occasions. “The trash just lasts a couple years, and then it’s

gone.”