The Cavern
Rock & Words
LA REVOLUCIÓN DE EMILIANO ZAPATA
"Hey Baby Change Your Manners
And Go By The Way Of The Sun
Can´t You See That This Kind Of Sex
Is Gonna Let You Down, Let You Down"
"D"
INTRO EDITED AND IMPROVED
Main Decade: 70’s
Main Eras:
70s Latin American Rock
Key Members:
Oscar Rojas, Vocals
Javier Martín del Campo, Lead Guitar
Servando Ayala, Keyboards
Key Songs:
Nasty Sex, Mel_Ynda, If You Want It, In The Middle Of The Rain, So Long Ago, I Dig It, Mi Forma de Sentir, Cómo Te Extraño
Link to Spotify's list This Is La Revolucion De Emiliano Zapata
La Revolucion de Emiliano Zapata, or La Revo, as it's known to its friends, also emerged in 1968 in the Jardines del Bosque neighborhood of Guadalajara, Mexico, starting out playing at afternoon dances and in cafés. The founders were Javier Martín del Campo, another exceptional guitarist with international talent, and Óscar Rojas, the vocalist sporting the bushy mustache that explained the group's name. La Revo began to gain fame in the city, and soon they ceased to be exclusive to a single neighborhood, attracting fans throughout the metropolitan area.
La Revo's sound was always based on Martín del Campo's incisive and fast guitar playing, which was capable of impressive solos and catchy, excellent riffs, giving the songs a unique personality and a sound much more Latin than the other bands mentioned earlier, but without reaching the extreme of Santana. This was also a clean Hard Rock sound, although further removed from the blues than the Spiders.
By 1970, after several lineup changes, the members who would record their debut album were finally in place: Óscar Rojas (vocals), Carlos Valle (guitar and harmonies), Francisco Martínez Ornelas (bass), Antonio Cruz (drums), and Javier Martín del Campo (guitar and direction). Marco Carrasco (guitar and harmonies) was a member of the group and was later replaced by Carlos Valle; the drummer in their early days was Antonio Cruz. Los Spiders, who were a couple of steps ahead, began to get recommendations at the venues where they performed, and thus landed their first gigs in casinos and larger clubs.
It wasn't until they participated in the "Las Cinco Ondas de Alegría" (The Five Waves of Joy) contest, organized by a well-known local radio group, that they took their big break. Other legendary Guadalajara bands that participated in the contest included 39.4, Fachada de Piedra, Toncho Pilatos, and La Quinta Visión. After sweeping the competition thanks to their talent and their loyal fanbase, they won first prize, which led to contact with major record labels, with Polydor signing them. The next step was moving to Mexico City, where they were immediately overwhelmed by the pace of life in the sprawling metropolis. Even so, in 1970 they released their self-titled album, a true collector's item that quickly climbed the national charts and, to everyone's surprise, the international charts as well. From this album, they released the celebrated singles "Nasty Sex," "Still Don't Know Yet," and "Shit City," three gems of Mexican rock, which earned them gold records in Mexico. The recording transcended borders, and soon they also received gold records from Germany, England, France, and the USA, for a total of five—an unprecedented feat. Although no one had any idea where the hell this band had come from or what its strange name was, people were recognizing for the first time on a massive scale the talent of a Mexican band beyond the border, something that sowed hope in other groups.
It's true, Nasty Sex is a remake of Creedence Clearwater Revival's "Born on the Bayou," and they even admitted that the song originated from jamming to the Creedence track. However, the arrangements they managed to incorporate, especially on the guitar, far surpass Fogerty's, making it a unique product with vaguely Mexican sounds and without needing mariachi or cumbia rhythms. Beyond the intriguing title and simplistic lyrics, Nasty Sex is perfectly crafted by Javier Martín del Campo. The song's main riff is a gem, and he constantly adds embellishments here and there, combining speed with a very personal style, and incorporating small guitar solos that emerge from that ferocious, Latin-infused riff after each verse. Finally, Javier incorporates an incredibly long solo that begins around the three-minute mark, adding clever arrangements that sound unlike anything done before (nope, not even Creedence Clearwater Revival) and that stretches almost to the six-minute mark, leading into another verse and immediately transitioning into a ferocious coda where the song's intensity constantly rises and falls at the whim of the guitar until the final, definitive end, near the eight-minute mark. That's another point worth mentioning. Although much of the solo was cut for radio editing, this song was a watershed moment, being one of the first made in Mexico to exceed the standard three or four-minute length imposed by record labels. And it was definitely the one that achieved the greatest success before it became more common 20 years later.
With the meteoric rise to fame, the schedule became increasingly packed, and the pace became suffocating. They had to decline their eagerly anticipated participation in Avándaro, partly due to scheduled tours and partly due to internal tensions that were already existing and beginning to fracture the group.
In '72, they tried to repeat their success with a few singles, but the government's heavy hand practically shut down any opportunities, and the success was far from what they had hoped for. Faced with the dilemma of continuing to fight for avant-garde rock or commercializing their sound to regain their footing, the friction between the members reached the point of several leaving, including Antonio Cruz and Óscar Rojas, the band's frontman and vocalist, who, fed up with everything, one day simply packed his bags and returned to Guadalajara, mustache and all. Rojas would say in an interview: "We left the group in the summer of '72, during the black hole that Mexican rock suffered as a result of the persecution and demonization following Avándaro."
During this period, they signed with the Melody record label with the following lineup: Jorge G. (vocals), Servando Ayala Bobadilla (keyboards), Adrián Cuevas (bass), Antonio Cruz (drums), and Javier Martín del Campo "Javis" (guitar). Thus, Revo drastically changed their sound, becoming just another run-of-the-mill romantic ballad singer in Spanish, but achieving commercial success nonetheless. I haven't listened to these albums from their second phase, but there are two songs that have been covered countless times, and one would never guess they were written by the same people who wrote Nasty Sex. They are "Cómo te Extraño" and "Mi Forma de Sentir," two beautiful ballads that, among others, were performed by Mocedades and provided a good living for Revo. They would release other albums under this concept and finally disbanded in the mid-80s.
It's a real shame how the glorious La Revo underwent such a transformation, but it demonstrates the pressure and heavy hand of the repressive government of that era, which abruptly cut short a promise that was becoming a reality. We're left with only the band's first album, and that single LP is more than enough to place them just below the Spiders in the pantheon of Mexican bands. However, the band would later say that the shift was essentially a survival tactic in the face of the repression of the true sound they represented.
In the mid-80s, La Revo broke up. In the late 90s, with the band already a cult phenomenon, "Javis" reunited with Servando Ayala to revive the group. From this period, I heard a modernized version of "Nasty Sex" on Stereosoul, featuring more alternative guitars and female vocals, which attempted to modernize the song but ultimately stripped it of much of its magic. In 2009, rumors circulated about a reunion of most of the original members, except for Óscar Rojas, though only a few recordings of the jam session exist. While this 1970s lineup never toured again, "Javi" decided to revisit the songs most similar to their original format.
La Revo performed at Vive Latino, celebrating their 45th anniversary, and had a final burst of energy by participating in other massive events like Rock X La Vida, and sharing the stage with other icons such as Alex Lora and Javier Bátiz.
Javier Martín del Campo died on July 28, 2026, at the age of 75, leaving a profound mark on Mexican rock.
By Corvan
Jun/17/2009
Edited: Jul/29/2026
