Appreciation: Tex-Mex titan Flaco Jiménez knew how to best beat la migra: humor

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The accordion player dominates the stage, his gaze lost in a dreamy state, deftly playing the initial notes of a melody. It’s an extended, winding sequence, so captivating that the crowd before him involuntarily starts to sway and dance across the bustling dance floor.

his sweetheart is now dating the man who issues driver’s licenses, leaving him facing possible deportation.

In a heavy sigh, the musician-accordionist laments in Spanish, “Those people mistreated me.” “I’ve lost my vehicle, and they confiscated my beloved instrument called Chencha.

This scene hails from the 1976 documentary “Chulas Fronteras,” which explores life along the U.S.-Mexico border and the regional conjuntos, led by accordions. The song playing is titled “A Wetback Without a License,” sung by the legendary Tex-Mex artist Flaco Jiménez, who recently passed away at 86 years old.

Legendary Tejano and conjunto musician Flaco Jimenez, who won six Grammys, has passed away at the age of 86. He was renowned as a trailblazer in the Tejano music scene and celebrated for his exceptional skill on the accordion.

Hailing from San Antonio, he was the son and grandson of accordionists who rose to fame as a prominent figure in Tex-Mex music and a go-to session musician for rock and country legends seeking that distinctive borderlands sound. He shared the stage with an impressive array of artists, including the Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, Buck Owens, Dwight Yoakam on “The Streets of Bakersfield”, Willie Nelson for a lively rendition of “Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain”, and many more. With Doug Sahm, Augie Meyers, and fellow Tejano maverick Freddy Fender, Jiménez formed the Texas Tornadoes, whose music can be heard at every third-rate barbecue joint across the Texas Hill Country to Southern California.

A key aspect that the obituaries of Jiménez overlooked was his political stance, which played a significant role in his life and career as a prominent figure in American music.

He played his Hohner accordion not only during concerts, but also for various events such as scholarships for students and the successful election campaign of L.A. County Superior Court Judge David B. Finkel, a member of the Lawyers’ Committee, a nonprofit established during the civil rights era to address systemic racism within the American legal system. Jiménez and the Texas Tornadoes performed at Bill Clinton’s 1992 inauguration ball; he was the star act at a charity event for John Treviño Jr., who later became Austin’s first Mexican-American city council member, with “Chulas Fronteras” as the featured performance.

The fact that Jiménez chose “Un Mojado Sin Licencia” as his performance speaks volumes about his compassionate heart and wit, making it one of my favorite movie concert moments. This is a standard every Latin artist should aim for amidst the prolonged summer of deportations.

In the 1970s, some undocumented immigrants wore the term “mojado” not as an insult but with pride (to this day, my father still refers to himself as such, despite having been a U.S. citizen for many years). Jiménez’s skill on the accordion, his fingers rapidly playing up and down the rows of buttons for each solo like a journalist under deadline pressure, is just as intricate and captivating as any performance by Eric Clapton or Prince on the guitar.

The aspect that made Jiménez’s performance particularly captivating was his ability to resist being consumed by the emotional weight of undocumented immigration, a struggle many can empathize with. Far from a mournful ballad, “Un Mojado Sin Licencia,” first recorded by Jiménez in 1964, is instead an energetic rebellion against American prejudice towards immigrants.

The camera operator vividly records Jiménez’s radiant gold teeth shining during his exhilarating three minutes as he grins. He seems content because he must be: the U.S. government can potentially deny Mexicans a superior life, as “Un Mojado Sin Licencia” suggests, but it becomes decisively grim when they snatch away our happiness.

As a passionate film enthusiast, I’m excited to share that Pepe Aguilar recently sat down with The Times to discuss his latest release, ‘Corrido de Juanito.’ This powerful track delves into the intricate and challenging experiences of immigrants in the United States. In an inspiring act of solidarity, all profits generated from this song will be channeled towards CHIRLA, a group tirelessly advocating for immigrant rights.

The title “An Unlicensed Immigrant” shares a spirited tone with other Mexican standards about unauthorized immigration, such as Vicente Fernández’s “Los Mandados,” “El Corrido de Los Mojados” by Los Alegres de Terán, and “El Muro” by the rock en español icons El Tri. These works express not sorrow for undocumented immigrants but admiration for their resilience and a sense of triumph over the efforts of immigration authorities to control them. In “Los Mandados,” Fernández portrays an immigrant who retaliates against his abusers by suing them, while in “El Corrido de Los Mojados,” the question is posed to Americans, ‘If the undocumented immigrants were to vanish, who would you rely on?’

El Muro,” initially a heavy metal anthem with excessive overtones, unexpectedly showcases its protagonist not just entering the U.S., but using the infamous border wall as a toilet – a humorously provocative depiction in the gritty voice of Alex Lora, the lead singer from Mexico City. These songs delve into the deep reservoir of dark humor that Mexicans possess. The creators were well aware that satirists from Charlie Chaplin to Stephen Colbert understood: In the face of tyranny, laughter and resistance are crucial responses.

There are many somber songs about illegal immigration, such as La Santa Cecilia’s eerie bossa nova “El Hielo (ICE)” and Woody Guthrie’s “Deportee (Plane Wreck at Los Gatos),” which has been covered by artists like the Byrds, Dolly Parton, and Jiménez when he was part of Los Super Seven. However, it’s the humorous songs that people remember most – the ones you can dance to, whether it’s polka, waltz, or even mosh. These tunes help lift your spirits amidst hardship, providing a momentary escape from the sadness and frustration that often characterizes the rest of the day.

As a college student, I encountered the movie “Chulas Fronteras” while combating anti-immigrant vigilantes in Orange County. The film instantly resonated with me, but it was “Un Mojado Sin Licencia” that truly captured my heart. At that time, many of my peers believed that enjoying music or dancing was a betrayal to the revolutionary cause. Fortunately, this mindset has largely changed among contemporary pro-immigrant activists, who now integrate music, dancing, lawsuits, and neighborhood surveillance into their strategies.

Outside the Metropolitan Detention Center in downtown L.A., where numerous immigrants are kept under substandard conditions akin to a neglected pound for abandoned dogs, has been repurposed into an impromptu performance venue that has welcomed classical Arabic musicians and Los Jornaleros del Norte, the music group affiliated with the National Day Laborer Organizing Network. Along the 5 Freeway, the OC Rapid Response Network organizes frequent fundraisers in downtown Santa Ana bars, showcasing a diverse range of acts from rockabilly bands to female DJs playing cumbias. Despite some music festivals being delayed or canceled due to concerns about ICE raids, others have carried on as scheduled, fearing that any interruption could result in ICE gaining the upper hand.

Artists such as Pepe Aguilar, who recently released a sweet rendition of Calibre 50’s “Corrido de Juanito,” are quickly organizing benefit concerts and promises to aid nonprofits amidst the current situation. This is commendable, but I encourage them to continually play “Un Mojado Sin Licencia” while brainstorming lyrics or creating beats. With the ongoing struggle against immigration, there’s already enough sadness. Instead, follow Flaco’s lead: bring laughter, create dance-worthy tunes, and offer a glimmer of hope to keep us from sinking into despair.

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2025-08-05 00:31