Upon their arrival to the KVRX studio, Los Juanos had clearly left their regional getup at home, hanging neatly in their closets in preparation for their SXSW debut. Instead, I got to see the indie side of the band, outside their stage persona, with their washed out jeans and big corduroy jackets — a two-sidedness that doesn’t stop at the stage looks.
“The saying ‘ni de aqui, ni de allá’ (not from here, not from there) is the motto for Los Juanos,” multi-instrumentalist Yasib “Eddie” Longoria explains as he settles into the CD-filled corner of the studio. “San Antonio is the mecca of this feeling of not belonging, ni aqui ni allá. Allí nacio el Tejano, y allí esta la raza.” (That’s where Tejano was born, and it’s where the raza is.)
The phrase stems from a sentiment shared among Latino children of immigrants who often feel torn between two conflicting cultures: the one brought home by their parents, memories of a distant land most never got to know, and the American tradition these children find themselves completely submerged in. This reconciliation between cultures, as frontman Miguel Jaime “Werito” Guzman explains, became a driving force for the creation of Los Juanos.
“I wanted to figure out what the hell identity is,” he explains. “I wanted to explore the weird liminal space that a lot of us as Mexican Americans, Chicanos, Tejanos are in, in general.”
Werito sings to the camera as the band performs at Austin's Sahara Lounge. | Photo taken by Sid Rodriguez-Tovar
Like most who grew up in a Latino household, music ran through the halls of the band’s childhood homes and defined a large chunk of their connection to Mexican culture. Most enjoyed music casually, like Longoria’s obsession with Guitar Hero games at age seven or Richard “Rich Boy” Ramírez growing up next to a church playing regional gospel music loud enough for him to hear. In the case of Werito and guitar-vocalist powerhouse Frank Tovar, the regional sound defining the world of Los Juanos surrounded them endlessly through their family’s own involvement in Tejano music.
As edgy teenagers, the rejection of Tejano as a thing of an era long gone came naturally.
The work to unravel this feeling proved tougher, and required some real dedication from the band members. Growing up in and out of after school music programs, bassist and songwriting backbone Baldemar Esquivel III spent quarantine praising the Tejano artists he believed to be making the most of the style. After sifting through endless Tweets of high praise for the genre, Werito began to take Baldemar’s recommendations seriously.
“The way Baldemar talked about Tejano really opened my mind,” Werito says. “I reached out to him on Twitter and told him to let me know if he ever got that Tejano band together.”
Each making their own version of musica regional in the heart of Latino country, the six-piece ensemble soon found their way to each other through the webs of the San Antonio scene. By the time of their 2021 debut single “Cien Novias,” Werito, Frank, Richie and Baldemar had all worked together, either within a pre-Juanos band or helping each other out on solo projects. At this point, a piece of the puzzle was still missing, but no one quite knew what it looked like until their fateful show at Hash Vegan Eats.
On a blistering summer day in 2021, the sky seemed to suddenly part, calling all attention to the stage as an angelic spotlight landed on Eddie.
Accordion in hand and fully extended, he dramatically fell to his knees as if playing a Guns N’ Roses riff off of Slash’s guitar itself.
“It was like a stadium show, but in this tiny corner in the Southside (of San Antonio),” Werito remembers. “It was the most incredible performance I had seen at that point. A lot of the indie and alternative scene felt very much like they were too cool to be there. But not Eddie.”
Los Juanos poses for a pic. In order from left to right: Baldemar Esquivel III, Frank Tovar, Werito Guzman, Eddie Longoria, Gilbert Salazar Jr. and Richie Ramírez.| Photo taken by Sid Rodriguez-Tovar
Now in their final formation, with the addition of drummer Gilbert Salazar Jr., figuring out their signature sound came next.
Los Juanos, Baldemar explains, differs from the techniques of other neo-cumbia acts by being a conjunto band first. They use psychedelia as a way to enhance the already masterful artform and modernize it for new audiences. Los Juanos wants to do for others what they had to do for themselves, and teach them how to love musica regional in every shape it comes in.
Walking onstage co-headlining a mixed bill can be difficult for a band like Los Juanos, who seem to have created their own genre. Be it young folks who can’t groove or old souls stuck in their ways, audience approval varies show by show.
Who has proved to be the most receptive crowd? Hardcore fans.
“People see an accordion come out and they’re like, what the fuck is gonna happen?” Frank says. “But it’s still San Antonio. It’s still where we’re all from, so people start smiling, trying to dance and keep the energy. (At the Paper Tiger show we did last year with a mix of hardcore bands), we played our unreleased song El Borrego, and people went crazy. It was the first time we had people moshing to our songs.”
“Stage diving to fucking cumbias, foo,” Werito adds. “It was amazing.”
Now four years into their journey, Los Juanos still work their day jobs — but it is getting slightly out of hand. Werito, a daytime mariachi, recalls how sometimes he’ll go straight to a mariachi gig after a show, or come onstage in full traditional traje on a time crunch. Frank will often go from an eight hour outdoor workday to the night shift as Los Juanos’ guitarist. Grateful to be busy, tired and booked, they prepared a jam-packed setlist for their official SXSW debut. Determined to get the often-sterile Austin crowd up and at ‘em, the setlist contains mostly unreleased dance tracks, along with their newest release “Otra Lata.” Los Juanos bring such a life to every performance, they’re sure to make fanatics out of anyone who wanders in.