Los mejores de los mejores

It’s long past time that I make a list of my favorite acordeonistas. I mean, it’s really not, but I won’t let that stop me. Obviously, I’m coming at this from a different perspective than most. I didn’t grow up with the music I love. I tuned in one day to the Mexican channels because all the other music playing on the radio in Albuquerque bored me to tears. But when I paused on the Mexican channels, it was like magic to my ears. The accordion. The brass. The vocals.

In the early days, I did a lot of exploring, looking up the bands I’d hear on Radio Lobo (the other Mexican channels never lasted long, but Radio Lobo has remained) and buying the CDs. Seriously. I have a giant collection of Norteño CDs somewhere. Out in a box in the garage, probably. I also did what I used to do with my life: research. It’s hard to believe that approach to the world was appealing to me at one time. I wrote essays in both Spanish and English about the history of Tejano and Norteño. I did presentations on the music for my classes at UNM–Southwest History 120 or Spanish 400 or whatever it was. The response to my obsession from professors and students was general bewilderment. That’s nice Jill; you do you. What a dumb way to be. Never again.

I’ve decided recently that I want to be completely braindead. Like, if I were the Scarecrow in Wizard of Oz, I would sing I would while away the hours, talking to the flowers, singing in the rain, if I didn’t have a brain. That is my fantasy right now. Never analyzing anything. Just writing in fragment sentences and having natural reactions to life. How amazing! I WANT TO BE BRAINLESS! I expressed this to my husband the other day, and he said, Good for you! as if I’d managed a major life breakthrough. At least I get support.

All that nonsense about research and being brainless was really meant to give you an idea of why I have experienced many of the classic accordion players that are not played on the current Mexican channels, such as Tony de la Rosa or Narciso Martinez. My mix of greats has a range from different eras, up through young millennial musicians (there’s actually just one millennial on my list, Eden Muñoz of Calibre Cincuenta [who has recently left that band]; the other Muñoz is a gen-Xer). Speaking of the classics, I’m not ever going to forget seeing Flaco Jimenez play live. Because of that–watching him as an old man dance with his Hohner–he’s on the list. Your list might differ. You might not have a list. You might write a top-ten reasons I don’t make lists list. The top reason on my list of why I don’t write lists is owing to my newfound braindead state.

In no particular order, here are my favorite acordeonistas:

• Flaco Jimenez
• Ricky Muñoz
• Paulino Bernal
• Ramon Ayala
• Lupe Tijerina
• Reynaldo Gonzales
• Eden Muñoz
• Celso Piña
• Jesus “Chuy” Garcia

I’m leaving the last spot empty because I can’t decide. The others fit neatly into my braindead state, as they were no-brainer picks. They are the people I can’t stop listening to for style or innovation or general magic, but I could not decide who else should be on the list. If I decide, I’ll fill in the spot. There were a few Tejanos I was considering… I might need to do a binge listen to old CDs.

A few on the list have passed away–Lupe Tijerina, Celso Piña, Paulino Bernal–may God rest their souls; I’ve also seen quite a few of them live. Others I regularly miss (such as Ricky Muñoz of Intocable) because I’m broke when they come round these parts. Or working. Or hugely pregnant. I actually saw Ramon Ayala live when I was two weeks from giving birth. I was sooooo exhausted, my brain wishing it were dead. I had just finished a dissertation in which I translated Sor Juana’s poetry into English. I hadn’t yet bought my first accordion, so I longed instead to write brainless odes to accordion players in my terrible Spanish, which I did right after graduating. I guess you could say Señor Ayala inspired that.

If I ever start studying again, just shoot me. Or give me a lobotomy and wipe up my drool so it doesn’t spill on my accordion.