No Sabo: Ivan Cornejo: Singing to the damaged hearts
Here is my dilemma: I come from a family that loves to dance while I can’t stand it. Whether it be graduations, 90th birthday parties, holidays or even some funerals, they will find a reason to clear a space and turn up the music. Some chemical reaction happens in their head when they hear music that sweeps them away with the rhythm.
I think there was a genetic malfunction when I was born that made me not want to dance. In fact, I think sitting down while music is playing is when my parents are most disappointed in me. My mom tells me every day, “Eres latina. How could you not love to dance?”
The truth is while I can appreciate the rhythm of a song or the beat of a chorus, when I hear new music I listen to the words more than the melody. Lyrics are the bridge that connects the experiences of artists to listeners. To me, they are the most important part of any song. I have never heard anyone master the art of storytelling in music like singer-songwriter Ivan Cornejo.
The 19-year-old from Riverside, California released his first album, “Alma Vacía,” when he was only 17 years old. He makes regional Mexican music with ballads falling under the category of sierreños. This is a style of Norteño music that has the backbone of an acoustic guitar, bass and accordion in every song.
Be warned it’s not music you play before you go out, it’s not the music you listen to with friends or hear coming from the DJ booth in a club (not that I’ve ever even been in one). Cornejo’s music is the kind you only want to listen to when you are in a car, maybe stuck in traffic and left alone with your thoughts.
He has lyrics that teach heartbreak to those who have never felt that type of pain. His ability to draw on past relationships and reflect on life experience is unlike any other teenage songwriter. Cornejo’s wisdom and honesty allow his pain to be the beating heart of every song.
You don’t need to speak Spanish to feel his songs or to understand his emotion. Cornejo’s voice is not silky smooth. His tone is like gravel that scrapes away any facade until the listener matches his own bleeding heart.
His latest album “Dañado,” meaning damaged, carries the feeling of being left behind. It is an album of loss told through vulnerability. Cornejo candidly and artistically shines a light on the heartache he’s experienced and makes listeners do the same. In his song “Ya Te Perdí,” Cornejo sings “Me duele saber / Que tú amas a él / Tu amor fue hecho de papel / Lo que más arde / Es que entendí / Que tú me amarías / Hasta el fin / Lo que más duele / Es que yo te vi / En mi futuro / Pero yo no en el tuyo.”
His songs have a special power of making people remember their own damaged past. No matter how far under the surface it’s buried, the truth is everyone has a few bumps and bruises. Hearing Dañado makes listeners remember the certain faces in our lives that account for those scars.
It dwells on his pain more than any happy emotion, but still hugs the listener with a blanket of mutual heartbreak. There is a common denominator of affliction. So why am I recommending such sorrowful songs? Maybe Cornejo’s music is not the most optimistic or uptempo sound. This is not to say that listening to his music will put you in a terrible mood. In fact, it does the opposite. I think it relieves a burden by acknowledging its very presence.
While his songs are based on his own experiences, the lyrics are applicable to anybody paying attention. Cornejo is young but his music already captured the elusive magic of transcending personal divisions. Playing his songs won’t make you want to dance in the rain but hearing his words is all you need to relate to his pain.
Just as there are different ways to walk through life, there are different ways to experience music. Some dance, some cry, some sing along in the shower, others listen alone with headphones. So one day I might learn to dance or I will perhaps never enjoy it, but either way I will still experience the music.
Alexis Lara is a sophomore writing about Latine music in her column, “No Sabo.” She is also an arts & entertainment editor at the Daily Trojan.