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The Rise of Reggaeton Mexa: How Mexican Perreo Became Massively Popular


The Rise of Reggaeton Mexa: How Mexican Perreo Became Massively Popular

SUNDAYS IN Mexico City, most people schlep to their nearest tianguis -- or open-air markets -- looking to end their weekends with budget-friendly debauchery as they wind their way through greasy taco stands, racks of affordable designer apparel, and makeshift bars slinging micheladas and tongue-staining azulitos.

Lately, these outings are sound­tracked by reggaeton: Though Puerto Rico and, in more recent years, Colombia have been the typical centers for the genre, playlists have changed dramatically in Mexico. Now, it's the crunchy, carnival­esque synths of Mexican perreo that fill the air as crowds go up for songs like Yng Lvcas' anthemic "La Bebe" remix with Peso Pluma, and bust out old school footwork to DJ Pablito Mix's cumbiatón throwback. Recently christened "reggaeton mexa," the sound and culture is decades in the making, reaching critical mass with a new generation of barrio stars embracing local idiosyncrasies and viral irreverence.

"Reggaeton mexa is particular to Mexico City and Mexico state," says Fernando Hernández Flores, a.k.a. El Malilla, one of the movement's biggest stars and a native of Valle de Chalco, a district southeast of Tenochtitlan's urban sprawl. The meteoric heartthrob, known for rump shakers "Dime" and "B de Bellako," received a musical education at his neighborhood tianguis, picking up groceries as well as bootlegs filled with reggaeton.

As a teen, he was most drawn to the silky sing-rapping of Puerto Rican masters Arcangel and J Alvarez, but quickly realized his own songs needed an unmistakable Mexican signature. "[Our sound] is different from Puerto Rico and Colombia because we use our own slang," he explains. "Using our ñerismo [or cadence] and codes of our barrios. When I started touring, fans would wait for me at the airport and sometimes track down my hotel and room number. I asked my manager what the hell was going on, and his answer was simply, 'You're a star, carnal, and el barrio sees it.' So that became the concept behind my album, Ñerostars, or barrio stars."

The roots of Mexican reggaeton go back to the Nineties, when DJs at the popular Veracruz nightclub Capezzio began spinning dancehall, soca, and early reggaeton records brought on merchant ships from across the Caribbean. The bustling port city was a cornerstone of the colonial slave trade, fostering a vibrant Afro-Mexican community. This resulted in rhythmic osmosis epitomized by La Dinastía's "Vaquero," widely recognized as one of Mexico's first reggaeton hits, from 2005. Meanwhile, Mexico City's sonidero DJs began mixing reggaeton a cappellas with cumbia loops, ­catalyzing the cumbiatón movement. DJ Bekman, DJ Sueño, Pablito Mix, and Los Piripituchi were architects of this scratchy sound, while Los Abusadores del Flow and Las PisiKatas gave cumbiatón a unique flow and style.

But reggaton mexa is driven by a new generation of stars doing things their own way. El Malilla's album Ñerostars is an excellent survey of the scene, filled with guest spots from stars like Yng Lvcas and Eme MalaFe. There are also rising talents like Bellakath, the hyper-glam alter ego of Katherine Huerta, who went stratospheric in 2022 with "Gatita," reggaeton mexa's first mainstream success story: " 'Gatita' was created without obscene language, which helped it reach nightclubs, children, and everyone in between," Huerta says.

The song became synonymous with post-pandemic dance floors and a viral favorite among all age groups, largely due to its profanity-free lyrics and a sweet steel drum melody tailor made for social media clips. But rather than remain family-friendly, Bellakath's 2023 debut album Kittyponeo came loaded with the pro-fellatio hit "Reggaeton Champagne," producing yet another TikTok craze. Crass humor also propelled Dani Flow's backdoor-love paean "Martillazo" to full blown meme status, hinting at a broader interest in challenging safe commercial trends and instead harkening to the raunch of classic mixtapes from Playero and Luny Tunes.

The way she's mapping out her career also shows the cross-border potential of reggaeton mexa. "Right now, my target audience is the Dominican Republic," she says. Her latest album Sata 42 plunges boldly into dembow and features underground heroes La Mas Doll, La Perversa, and Lomiiel. "I went to the club there and built my album around dembow de calle. I was worried because that sound isn't popular in Mexico. Like El Alfa and Tokischa who are more commercial. But as I spoke with the artists, they told me the island's upper class is prejudiced toward this music, and I related to that because I also fought stigma in Mexico. That's when I went global with 'Gatita'."

Charly Gynn, meanwhile, cut her teeth in Mexico City clubs for a decade, balancing sex-kitten wiles with razor-sharp bars. Her debut album La Matatana arrived in July with nods to her cumbiatón beginnings and a healthy mix of Mexican icons (Big Metra, El Bogueto) and buzzy overseas guests (Kaydy Cain, Akatumamy).

"We built this thing on the shoulders of giants," adds Jace Kimura, who co-founded the label Tempvs Music alongside Gynn, noting reggaeton mexa's reverence for trailblazing sounds as well as a commitment to lifting young talent. He underscores the playful production style of DJs Uzielito Mix and Mad Fuentes, which have become the blueprint for the movement's contemporary sound, while a recent all-star remix of "Vaquero" celebrated La Dinastía's legacy with new bars from Bellakath, El Malilla, and El Bogueto.

Mexico City is also home to Coca-Cola Flow Fest, the first major reggaeton music festival on the continent, which in November will hold its seventh edition with a stacked lineup including Rauw Alejandro, Tainy, and most of the aforementioned homegrown stars. But reggaeton mexa is growing, evolving, and reaching all corners of pop culture-like when the tandem success of Bellakath's "Gatita," and the Bogueto, Malilla, and Uzielito Mix team up "G Low Kitty," ushered a viral trend of Hello Kitty-themed micheladas called "Kittychelas."

And for a lot of these artists, there's more to come. "A few years ago, the question was 'Why doesn't Mexico have its own stars?'" Gynn says. "Now people ask, 'Where did reggaeton mexa come from?' and that's a dope shift."

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