How Ariel Camacho’s El Karma Changed Everything

Before his death at just 22, Mexican singer-songwriter Ariel Camacho influenced some of the biggest names in música mexicana, sparking whole new subgenres with his boundary-pushing sounds. Here, we explore the legacy of his pivotal 2014 album El Karma on its 10th anniversary.

It’s impossible to think of “El Azul” by Peso Pluma and Junior H without acknowledging its powerful tuba intro. Or the alto horns that kick off “Ch y la Pizza” by Fuerza Regida and Natanael Cano. Similarly, imagine removing the brass which anchors Marca MP’s “El Güero.” And yet there would be none of that had it not been for the innovations of Ariel Camacho Y Los Plebes del Rancho. Because before música mexicana was revolutionized by fusing traditional storytelling ballads with the gritty, hip-hop-influenced vibe of urbano styles to make corridos tumbados, there was Ariel Camacho’s El Karma, an album that transformed the traditional corridos for a new century. Adapting the sierreño sound—a style of rural Mexican music from the northwest, characterized by its entirely string-based instrumentation—as the melodic foundation for modern corridos, Camacho and his band made a few simple changes that gave the music a distinct identity and made it the sonic backdrop for a new generation of artists. Born José Ariel Camacho Barraza in 1992, the musician and songwriter grew up hearing banda, short for banda sinaloense, the brassy big-band music that reigns supreme in his native Sinaloa. But when the multitalented young singer and musician Camacho, affectionately known as El Rey de Corazones (“The King of Hearts”), met rhythm guitarist César Sánchez (“El Tigre”), they began to experiment with the traditional sound. And so the teenagers, along with tuba player Omar Burgos (nicknamed “El Cenizo”), added a brass section to the traditional corridos—a move that would prove revolutionary. By the time their official debut album El Karma was released in 2014, that innovation, plus listeners’ familiarity with the traditional banda sinaloense sound, guaranteed that it would be the kind of hit that competed with star outfits of the era such as Banda MS de Sergio Lizárraga and La Arrolladora Banda el Limón de René Camacho. And yet it also sounded like no one else. You’ll hear the stylistic disruption in tracks such as “Los Talibanes del Prieto,” which begins with two guitars mimicking the melodic pattern of a traditional corrido until the tuba breaks in and the song acquires an entirely new, sonorous dimension—brassy and bassy where before there would have solely been strings. Adding Burgos to the band was the before-and-after moment that opened doors for other alternative instrumentation in corridos tumbados.

Not much is known about Ariel Camacho before he achieved fame, something that only enhances his cult status. One story goes that when the seven-year-old held a guitar in his hands for the first time, his grandfather nicknamed him La Tuyia (“yours”), a gentle joke suggesting that his guitar was bigger than he was. He fell in love with the instrument and mastered it during his high school years, but after becoming a recording artist, he left the guitar behind to focus on two essential instruments in corrido: the requinto guitar (a smaller, more high-pitched version), and the 12-string docerola guitar (known to add a fuller, more resonant sound). His dexterity on both is essential to understanding the success of El Karma. When the album was released, for example, it was unusual for the singer in a sierreño outfit to also be the lead musician, especially one who’d barely turned 20. Then there was Camacho’s individual playing style: It was robust, energetic, and precise, showing the huge influence that requinto players of the past such as Miguel y Miguel had on him. The bridges and instrumental solos on songs such as “Secreto Mexicano” and “El Corrido de la Roca” reveal his remarkable technique, and the most notorious requinto players in contemporary corrido tumbado—from Amilkar Galaviz and Daniel Ruiz “El Bocho” to Joel Nuñez, Marca MP’s El Nitro, and Danny Felix—have all been influenced by La Tuyia. Now it’s expected that the vocalist of any group in that genre possesses some basic knowledge of string instruments. As Eslabon Armado’s Pedro Tovar told Apple Music in October 2023, “Nobody played like that before Ariel Camacho. He turned the requinto into a staple of modern regional Mexican music.”

On August 23, 2024, Natanael Cano sold out Estadio GNP Seguros, one of Mexico City’s biggest concert venues. More than 60,000 people witnessed the most epic celebration in the history of corridos tumbados: the genre’s godfather playing a single night at the Mexican capital. In the middle of his set, he led his band to the walkway, and after a respectful nod to the skies above, they covered seven Ariel Camacho Y Los Plebes del Rancho hits. It underscored the fact that without the innovations of a decade ago, the sounds of the requinto, bajoloche, and tuba would perhaps not have filled the Mexico City air that evening. “It was on account of that song [‘El Karma’] that I decided to learn how to play the guitar,” Cano told Apple Music in 2023. “I learned the requinto part watching a YouTube video. Everything started for me with that song.” Cano and Camacho are united by more than music. They were both born in the Mexican northwest, a region marked by specific geopolitical narratives: the border and migration; the Pacific coast; the nightlife; the sierras and the criminal element that inhabits them. It’s a landscape that lives and breathes through the stories narrated by its people. In Camacho’s case, he was a child of humble origin who dreamed of playing in the big leagues—and he made those dreams a reality, before dying tragically in a car accident at the age of 22. This slightly surreal fable has only added to his mystique, and El Karma’s moral message—conveyed in Camacho’s storytelling prowess—became a stark credo: “Nadie de la parca se puede escapar” (“no one can escape death”). Camacho’s “live fast, die young” narrative became an inspiration to the generation of young corridos tumbados artists who followed him. The narrative’s influence also ignited the development of new subgenres such as the corrido verde and corrido bélico, cementing the legacy of T3r Elemento, Luis R Conriquez, and El de La Guitarra.

Corrido in its most traditional sense was always linked to a narrow thematic treatment—the epic feats and tall tales of larger-than-life characters—but from the 1950s on, love’s travails took a leading role. These feelings were tackled from a questionable perspective, though: Original corridos placed too much emphasis on tragic endings and preachy messages aimed at teaching moral lessons instead of emotional truths. But the world evolved, and popular music changed with it. Yet again, Camacho proved forward-thinking, changing his repertoire to incorporate confessional songs, something Gerardo Ortíz, Ulices Chaidez, and Régulo Caro also embraced. “Te Metiste,” his most celebrated song, became a timeless staple of the Mexican songbook. His cover of Miguel y Miguel’s coincidentally named “Rey de Corazones” found a whole new audience via his rendition. His gift for composing and performing set the foundation for a new brand of corrido: sad sierreño. Junior H, the major proponent of the style and creator of the “$ad Boyz” concept, has acknowledged the direct influence that Los Plebes del Rancho had on him. Camacho’s raw spirit and the heart-wrenching sincerity of his lyrics connected with the emotional landscape of an entire generation, and while he may have died on the precipice of stardom, his impact on the genre has never faded.