Los Cuates de Sinaloa

At only 23 years old, cousins Gabriel and Nano Berrelleza, aka Los Cuates De Sinaloa, are revitalizing the Mexican regional genre with their fast, agressive take on Sierreño (Mountain) music.

Their bare-bones set up of two acoustic guitars and a bass – a style appropriately nicknamed "guitarras" – packs a punch, producing live jams that rival those of Prince or Garth Brooks. Onstage, the Cuates are for reals with a play-every-note-as-if-it-was-your-last cowpunk attitude that is introducing the genre to a new generation of fans, much as Los Tigres Del Norte did for their audience in the '70s.

Perhaps it's no coincidence that Gabriel and Nano Berrelleza's personal history mirrors that of many Mexican immigrants. After getting la bendición to head north from their mothers left La Vainilla, Sinaloa at age 14 in search of gigs. They first settled in Phoenix, Arizona, where they paid their musical dues in relative obscurity while working odd jobs. The cousins soon hit the indie circuit, touring and gigging for five years before signing a deal with Sony Music and releasing their major label debut in 2006.

Their second album with Sony, Puro Sierreño Bravo (which could be loosely translated as "hard, o.g. Sierreño") has proved controversial with some of the most provocative narcocorridos in recent history. The album's lead single, El Carril Numero 3 ("border gate number three"), tells the tale of a highway lane popular with drug traffickers in an unnamed border city in northern Mexico:

Once again, it's obvious
Money is power
This is how a Mexican
Buys off Whitey
Even though he's "the most wanted"
He's still able to come and go as he pleases

The CIA arranged
For his special "papers"
That's how border gate number three
Is now his designated lane
All so he can cross when he likes
just to go shopping.

In "true gangsta" style, Los Cuates have even boasted about performing at lavish parties for drug bosses in the Sinaloa mountain range. Their bravado is not without its detractors – even Mario Quintero of Los Tucanes de Tijuana once warned the duo: "it's better to keep some things to yourselves."

The duo's defense is likewise familiar: Los Cuates claim they're only singing about the world they see around them. Los Cuates mean to "keep it real."