Even in the Tejana-and-ostrich boots world of regional Mexican music, you'd be hard pressed to find someone who wears more hats than Pepe Garza.

Born José Francisco Garza Durón in Monterrey, México, the radio DJ, songwriter and singer has been hailed by The Los Angeles Times as both a "starmaker and tastemaker." In a little over decade, Garza went from being a small-town rock en Español DJ in México to making Los Angeles' Que Buena 105.5 become one of the most successful radio stations in California.

As Que Buena's program director, Garza broke local and underground artists like Lupillo Rivera, Los Razos, Jenni Rivera, El Chapo de Sinaloa and Akwid. The self-described pop-rock fan also put narcocorridos on the radio when they were still "taboo." Despite his reputation as a tastemaker, the 43-year-old is reluctant to give himself all of the credit for helping acts go national: "I put the music on the radio, but the movement was already there."

Garza has also flexed his creative muscle, helping create popular characters like El Morro and "Don Cheto" and writing music for Bronco, La Banda Limón, Los Terrícolas, Los Rieleros Del Norte and Yolanda "La Potranquita" Pérez.

Garza, who sometimes performs pop-rock under the name Durón, is also an immigrant rights advocate. One of the organizers of the May Day immigration rights march in 2006, Garza says he feels a commitment to "[It] saddens me, because I know how hard they work, the hardships they go through, and how their contributions [to the U.S.] are ignored."

Ask the Los Angeles-born, Culiacán-bred narcocorrido singer Larry Hernández to explain one of his tracks and he'll probably answer by singing it back to you.

When Los Tigres del Norte launched the narcorrido genre nearly 30 years ago they were careful to throw hints about the drug traffickers that inspired their ballads. The 29-year-old Hernández is far more blunt:

"Me pongo un toque de kush
y mi persona se altera
no miro monos con trinchetes
y bien traigo una loquera
ese humo tranquilizante
hasta el cerebro me pega"

I take a toke of the kush
and my mind state is altered
I'm not seeing any visions
but I feel so crazy
that calming smoke
hits my brain

- "El Baleado"

Painting too vivid a picture of narco life could be dangerous, but Hernández insists he's singing about fictional characters: "My corridos aren't made for starting beef with anyone, they are corridos that are made to entertain, so people can drink and have a good time." His nickname, "El Amigo de Todos (Everyone's Friend)," could either describe his easygoing nature or a shrewd marketing strategy in a business where entertainment and reality often collide.

On his latest album, 16 Narcocorridos, Hernández chronicles a world where the bad guys are calling the shots: there's El Querendón y Cajetoso, a womanizer without remorse, Rey Midas, a man who escapes poverty by joining the mafia, and a ruthless gang of killers known simply as El Taliban. Hernández, who takes pride in singing about "things no one else would dare sing about," says these days, he's more worried about ticket sales than anything else: "What I'm afraid is of getting a weekend where nobody shows up [to my shows]."

See: myspace.com/larryhernandez

Ernesto "El Chapo" Pérez may be small in stature, but he's quickly become one of the biggest stars in the Mexican regional music scene.

Born in Badirahuato, Sinaloa – reportedly an important hub for narcotráfico – El Chapo first broke through with the narcocorridos Quisieron Tumbar al Jefe (They Wanted to Take Out the Boss), La Tienda Surtida (Well-stocked Store) and La Mafia Del Sinaloense. Not one to shy away from controversy, Pérez shrugged off warnings that singing about the drug trade could be dangerous for his health: "Artists shouldn't be worried about it, because it's not our job to say who works as a narco, who's a delinquent or who does good."

A notorious ladies' man, El Chapo hit the mainstream with Sinaloense love jams like Tu, Yo y la Luna (You, Me and the Moon) and Recostada En La Cama (Lying Down in Bed). His latest album, Mis Rancheras Consentidas, features El Paletero, a flirty single in which El Chapo taunts: "Don't say you don't like me if you haven't had a taste." Pérez, instantly recognizable with his black hat and thick black moustache, often performs on horseback, earning him the title 'El Numero Uno Del Jaripeo.'"

Like many artists on both sides of the border, Pérez has turned his street cred into Grammys by winning over the toughest critics: the ladies.

See: myspace.com/elchapomyspaceoficial

K-Paz de la Sierra

The discovery of Jose Luis Aquino's lifeless body last Wednesday marked the end of a bloody week in México. The trumpet player for Los Conde had been bound and badly beaten, his head covered with a plastic bag. Aquino was the third regional music star murdered last week.

Zayda Peña, the 28-year-old leader of Zayda y Los Culpables, was killed in Matamoros, Tamaulipas. Known as "La Dama del Sentimiento," Peña was shot in the back and survived only to be shot again – this time, mortally – while recovering in a hospital room.

Hours later that same day, Sergio Gómez of duranguense band K-Paz de la Sierra, was kidnapped in Morelia, Michoacán. He was later found tortured and strangled to death.

The three killings come a little over a year after banda singer Valentín Elizalde, "El Gallo de Oro," was shot to death leaving a concert hall in Reynosa, Tamaulipas. The motives for all four murders have not been confirmed, but some speculate that at least two are the handiwork of drug cartels.

But unlike Elizalde, last week's victims did not perform narcocorridos, but up-tempo romantic songs, prompting Mexican authorities to speculate that organized crime is now targeting mainstream acts. Political analyst Sergio Sarmiento sees a trend: "The murdered artists are no different than the rest of the victims of crime in our country...Their deaths however, have the advantage of getting the people's attention."

This year, over one thousand men, women and children have been murdered in México by crime syndicates involved in drug trafficking, according to Mexican law enforcement officials.

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."