Molotov @ MTelus▪

On the last Thursday of the coldest February I can remember, walking into MTelus felt like stepping through a portal back home, to México. French and English were left at the venue doors and were replaced not only by our native Spanish but also by a visceral sense of community; the immediate knowledge that everyone in that room understood our shared immigrant experience, no matter how unique each journey was. Because sometimes you don’t realize how much you miss home until you get a little taste of it. And that’s what we were all there for: music that feels like family.

Since 1995, the Mexican band Molotov has been known for using punk, rock, and rap as a weapon for political and social criticism, mostly aimed at the Mexican government, the media establishment, and class inequality. With this 30th Anniversary Tour, they are not only celebrating their musical career but also bringing a piece of Latin America to a crowd that craved a night off from the constant effort of being an outsider.

At 8:15 p.m., Molotov took the stage in front of a packed, sold-out MTelus. Their opening song, Que no te haga bobo Jacobo, is also the opening track for their first album ¿Dónde Jugarán las Niñas?. The whole band looked ready to take the night on, Paco on the main vocals, Micky on bass, and Randy on the drums. Their special guest on this tour is Jay de la Cueva, a founding member of the band, but currently covering for Tito Fuentes, who has been battling difficult health issues. The crowd welcomed them with a clamour, as the band played through the first few songs of the setlist; flags from all over Latin America rose from the crowd, it was a colourful display of cultural pride, but the Mexican flag was the clear protagonist of the evening. And as the band thanked the crowd for celebrating thirty years of music with them, waves of green, white, and red appeared in the air, transforming the Canadian soil we were standing on into a makeshift embassy where moshing was the primary protocol.

Molotov is a truly versatile band, proven by songs like Molotov Cocktail Party, where Randy left the drums to Paco and took the singer’s spot to lead the band. The group continued to play musical chairs for a couple of songs; these moments allowed the crowd to truly appreciate the talents of each member. However, the riff that made the venue explode was when the band started playing Frijolero. This was the emotional peak of the night; as I took my earplugs off, I was hit with a wall of sound unlike anything I had ever heard in that venue. Frijolero is a song that truly strikes a nerve for all Latino immigrants, serving as an anthem of protest against the discrimination and racism that Latinos face in North America. It speaks of how tired Latinos are of being disrespected even when we pay our dues and stay out of everyone’s way, and it challenges others to put themselves in the shoes of an immigrant. Hearing the song live was a cathartic moment that everyone in that crowd screamed with all the air in their lungs.

The band wasn’t ready to let go of the crowd’s energy; they moved straight into Gimme tha Power, an anti-establishment, anti-government, anti-police-state anthem that was originally banned from Mexican radio and television. It is a song that has been the soundtrack for decades of discontent, music that turns a party into a protest and a performance of the frustration that remains relevant thirty years later in México. I don’t think it’s possible to put into words what it felt like to sing these lyrics and scream “Viva México, Cabrones” with 2,300 people, but the band felt it too; Paco yelled to the crowd, “so far, you’re kicking every other city’s ass on this tour.”

We still had plenty of songs left in the setlist. With the song Marciano I, the crowd couldn’t help but move their hips to the beat, and then the band immediately followed with Marciano II, their punk version of the song. The crowd seamlessly transitioned from dancing to moshing and didn’t stop until the end of the evening. As they finished the night with their songs Mátate Teté and Puto, the crowd released their remaining energy and jumped until their knees cracked.

Only in Latin America is a sold-out venue flipping off the headlining band a sign of love and respect. In the aftermath of a Latin American Super Bowl halftime and the discourse that came with it, getting to live firsthand an event where people can share the joy that comes hand in hand with struggle and isolation is a beautiful way to heal wounds that we daily pretend not to notice. Molotov has a strong fanbase, but more than that, their songs are ingrained in our Mexican blood; even 30 years later, the words are just as true as when they were written. The world hasn’t changed much, but we persist, we stand together, and we sing in protest. Viva México, Cabrones.

Setlist