The story of Sergio and Francisco Gomez, better known as Akwid, the Mexican-American hip-hop duo from South Central L.A., is a familiar tale of unforeseen fame complete with the usual underdog subplots that make for a compelling MTV rockumentary. In an amazingly short amount of time, the two brothers launched their debut album Projecto Akwid, and despite meager airplay, the record became a critical and commercial success prompting the Latin music industry to take notice. In 2003, Akwid received their first Latin platinum album, a Grammy nomination for best "Spanish Rock/Alternative Album," and three nominations for the Latin Billboard Music award. This year the band won two Latin Billboard Music Awards: best Hip Hop Album of the Year and best Mexican Regional Album of the Year.
One could argue that Akwid's phenomenal success has less to do with defying the odds in a highly competitive business obsessed with the almighty dollar and more to do with a booming Latino youth population, fortunate timing and a growing need among Latinos to reconnect with their roots. It's no secret that Latinos born or raised in the U.S. grow up speaking two languages in order to reconcile divergent cultural realities: being Latino and American.
Sergio and Francisco are no exception. At home, the two brothers grew up speaking Spanish, listening to banda music, Mexican ballads and mariachi music; in the streets of South Central L.A. they spoke English and were influenced by NWA, AMG, DJ Quick, HI-C, and African-American urban culture. What set them apart from their peers was their urgent need to combine two contrasting musical genres, which on the surface appear to have nothing in common, with the intention of creating a distinct new sound. The result: audacious Spanish rhymes accompanied by a unique mix of Mexican banda music and West Coast-style hip-hop.
Musica de Banda or "band music" originated in the northern Mexican state of Sinaloa, and is one of the most popular forms of Mexican regional music today. The typical banda ensemble includes trumpets, tubas, trombones, keyboards and percussion; guitar and violin sounds are used sparingly. A more hyperactive incarnation of traditional Mariachi music, banda's bumping tuba rhythms and stuttering horn breaks were the perfect aural signifier for this act.
Embracing black culture was also an important and logical step for Akwid's development. They make no apologies despite some strong criticism within the Latino community. "Hip-hop was just something that we liked. It was music"”we were raised in South Central L.A. and that's what we heard when we were growing up. We didn't know who was making it, but growing up we also heard the regional Mexican and Latino music. Eventually something had to stick, whether we were going to like it or not," said Francisco.
"But you later evolve and go back to your own roots, too, and you don't care what others think or say about you," added Sergio.
Although Akwid clearly understands their core following, critics sometimes forget that there an entire generation of young Latinos grew up listening to hip-hop. Mainstream American music has never addressed the problems that young Latinos face in the inner city, mainly gang violence, poverty and discrimination. With hip-hop there was an immediate emotional connection with black inner-city youth, a sense of camaraderie, not necessarily based on mutual interests, but rather in the deep-rooted belief that both groups existed in the margins of a dominant white culture. "The reasons why white kids in the suburbs listen to rap and hip-hop are very different from ours"”it's much deeper"”for them it's a novelty and I understand that, but for us it is a reality," Francisco said.
By rapping in Spanish over street beats and lively Mexican brass music, Akwid created a noticeably fresh sound, a music synthesis. It was something truly authentic that drew its source from the brothers' personal experiences in the barrio, in a manner inspired by their childhood, when their parents threw large parties and played Los Tigres del Norte and Los Cadetes de Linares in the family living room. Weddings and Quinceañera parties were also opportunities to check out local DJs who were mixing the latest dance grooves and street jams. By the time they hit their teenage years, Sergio and Francisco were in full possession of valuable multicultural material. "At the age of 15 we started writing music at parties. The songs had no titles; they were just long verses, but it was a foundation," Francisco said.
Unlike many of their hip-hop heroes, Akwid were not obsessed with bloodshed and misogynistic behavior and keep these out of their lyrics. They knew the music around them was changing"”fans were demanding positive, free-spirited spins on life. As a result, they toned down the macho bravado and focused on self-expression, childhood memories, friendship, love, money, women and their place in the community.
Akwid's songs are primarily personal narratives jam-packed with subtle cross-cultural references. They borrow from TV, movies, classic Mexican corridos, cock fights, etc. The brothers are funny, witty, lusty, ironic and sometimes impossible to decipher (as on "Sifi Ofo Nofo"). Sometimes they are gloomy as in "Harto (Fed Up)," a heartfelt tune about broken dreams reminiscent of Tupac's "Better Days." There is a time-capsule quality to their music, mainly because they have an acute sense of awareness when it comes to issues of memory and time.
Even Akwid's music videos are shot to convey this nostalgia for the past. The video for "Jamas Imagine""”their latest hit"”is a tribute to El Chavo del Ocho, a famous Mexican TV show that became a huge hit in Latin America and Spain in the '70s and '80s. El Chavo del Ocho was the story of a boy who lived inside a wine barrel in a Mexico City ghetto. The show explored, through comedy, the problems many homeless children face on a daily basis: hunger, loneliness, sadness and not having someone to protect them. It's a nice nostalgia trip and a well-calculated effort to tell a story everyone could relate to on an emotional level. "With the video we just wanted to take you back to another time. El Chavo del Ocho is known to everyone who is Latino and grew up watching Spanish TV. So, we wanted to make that connection," Sergio said.
Because they understand who they are and where they fit within the world of Latino hip-hop and music in general, Akwid has built a solid fan base in Mexico and the U.S within two years. But now, with the recent release of their second album Komp 104.9 Radio Compa, Akwid is facing a new set of challenges, mainly the high expectations from fans and record executives. In other words, it's time to show and prove. Sergio, though, is not too concerned, "For years we weren't even searching for a record deal or a record, nothing"”we just made music because we liked it. And that's what we'll continue doing."
In an era when Latinos are producing some of the most ridiculous pop music on the planet, it's refreshing to find an unpretentious band like Akwid making serious noise without the marketing machine behind so many manufactured stars. Akwid's musicianship is unquestionable and they are living proof that there is still great music coming out of the barrio: smart, relevant, socially-conscious music that resonates with a young Latino audience eager to forge its own cultural identity. Through it all, Sergio and Francisco remain remarkably philosophical. "We'll continue to be ourselves. The point is not to forget who you are. Don't pretend to be someone else. The world is a diverse place and music reflects that. Good music always does."
