The Mohawk in Austin brought Mexico to Austin, Texas on Tuesday, February 27 with the booking of Mexican superstars Molotov. Though they don’t come up in conversations quite so much stateside, their legacy spans back to the mid-’90s, and they’ve spent those years wisely establishing themselves as one of the foremost metal and rap groups in their country, and have become heroic cult figures.
This was on full display at the Mohawk, where fans draped Mexican flags down the balcony, Molotov was given signs that said “fuck your wall” to proudly display, and nary an English word was spoken on stage except in some of Molotov’s bilingual tongue twisting raps.
Molotov has been called “Mexico’s answer to Rage Against the Machine,” but the comparison is marginal. Molotov does indulge in some funk metal, and their lyrics are political, but that’s where the parallels end. For one thing, Molotov has a sense of humor. You’d never see Rage get this playful on stage, teasing each other with spit and tossed picks, and having a roadie whose job is seemingly only to supply them with cigarettes, frequently used as props in their antics.
For another, Molotov’s style is considerably more malleable. There are more traditional Mexican beats for them to rap over, as in the cumbia influenced “Frijolero.” There’s a vast amount of hardcore punk and classic metal on display. There’s a rock cover of Falco’s 80’s hit “Rock Me Amadeus,” here retitled “Amateur,” and a brief interpolation of the rock section of “Bohemian Rhapsody” with a woman in a viking helmet singing with them. On their biggest fan favorite, “Puto,” there’s a jaunty beat, humorously offensive lyrics, and what has become an anthem in Mexican pubs and sports games.
In a tumultuous time politically, Molotov lived up to their legendary status among their audience. The lyrics to songs like “Frijolero,” with a chorus in a mocking American accent that goes “don’t call me gringo, you fucking beaner, stay on your side of that goddamn river,” resonated with an audience who those words likely have impacted themselves or their families, as did the aggressive chorus of “Hit Me;” “so you think you’re gonna hit me, but now I’m gonna hit you back.” When the a capella cry of “vive Mexico, cabrones” came up in “Gimme the Power,” it wasn’t just a part of a singalong. It was a cry of pride and power.
That isn’t to diminish how much fun Molotov is though. While their lyrics carry powerful weight which often hit deeply with their audience, that sense of humor is what buoys their shows. This isn’t a show where the band and their audience revel in the perils of political plights and discrimination in the United States. There’s still so much laughter and dancing involved in a Molotov show.
Though the audience chanted for “Puto” the entire show, it was obvious it would be closing out the night to end on a high note. When Molotov finally did perform the opening beatboxing to “Puto,” it brought everything that Molotov is about full circle. There’s no doubt that Molotov’s political side is needed now perhaps more than ever, but joyous celebration is also a necessity. As the audience bounced and chanted along to the raunchy bars of “Puto,” nothing else mattered in that moment and no one had lost their ability to smile. Molotov had wielded their dual ability to make people laugh and cry masterfully.
