By the time Oscar Maydón hit the stage at Baja Beach Fest, the crowd was already screaming. Not just for the music, but for the energy.
The 25-year-old from Mexicali has become a standout voice in regional Mexican music, but more than that, he’s built something rare: a real connection with la raza.
“The truth is, I love lighting up the crowd,” he told us. “I’m super active on stage. I never stand still. I’m always walking, running, jumping, screaming… because that’s what it’s about. Transmitting energy.”
Maydón, whose full name is Óscar René Maydón Mesa, was born in 1999 and raised in Mexicali. When he goes home, his first stop is always the same. “My grandparents’ house,” he said. “And the Chinese food. The Chinese food in Mexicali is unreal.”
He explained that the city’s Chinese restaurants are so good, that he couldn’t even name a favorite. “I can’t tell you one place because all of them are really good,” he said. “There isn’t just one. They’re all good.”
Growing up, Maydón’s parents kept him focused on school. “I was one of those kids who couldn’t go out to play unless I finished my homework,” he said. “If I didn’t study for a test, I couldn’t play outside.”
Still, music was always playing in the background. His dad introduced him to corridos and the movimiento alterado, but Maydón also remembers listening to Luis Fonsi and David Bisbal on his iPod. “Gerardo Ortiz, Banda MS… that was my playlist.”
By high school, Maydón had already formed a music group with friends. What started as a hobby quickly became something more serious. “We were the only ones at school who sang,” he said. “It felt more fun than work.”
Eventually, he made the decision to leave school entirely and go all in on music. His parents didn’t approve. “They didn’t like it,” he said. “They told me no. That I was messing up.” They were worried, especially because they had worked hard to give him everything he needed for school.
But Maydón didn’t want to depend on them. “I didn’t like the idea of being limited,” he said. “So I said, no. I’m going to make my own money. Doing what I love.” Now, he says, the situation has changed. “They can’t really say anything anymore,” he told us. “I live my own life. I’m not a burden to them.”
Maydón’s newest album, Rico o Muerto, wasn’t made under pressure. “We did it in stages,” he said. “In different cities, depending on work, comfort, or events.” The whole process, he said, was relaxed. “Always with friends. Always in a good mood. That’s why the album came out with such a good vibe.”
According to Maydón, the project’s name came from a phrase he and his team used while brainstorming names for a music company. “We had found the artist, but not a name,” he explained. “I said, ‘Let’s call it Rico o Muerto, wey.’” The phrase stuck and became a theme that wove through the music.
The character “Mr. Bayard” even came out of the album’s creative process. “We made a song about him,” he said. “Everything started connecting. I think we’ll create more characters like that. Maybe build an entire project around them.”
When asked about his favorite track, Maydón said, “Friends No” and “Mr. Bayard” are at the top of the list. He also confirmed that “Baja Beach” is based on a true story. “It really happened,” he said. “It’s a real story.”
Maydón doesn’t write from imagination. He writes from experience. “These are real-life situations,” he said. “They’re emotions we actually felt in that moment. We try to express that in the music so people can feel it, too.”
Fans constantly tell him they see themselves in his lyrics. “A lot of people say, ‘It’s like you told my story,’” he said. “Because I’m also someone who’s been ignored, or treated badly, or asked to give more than I have. Like everyone else.”
Even his haircut has become iconic. “I’ve seen it on TikTok,” he said. “A lot of kids ask for the ‘Oscar Maydón cut.’ Even my cousin always asks for it.”
Now, he’s getting ready for his U.S. tour, which kicks off July 25 in Salt Lake City and hits Los Angeles on October 11. “We’re inviting everyone,” he told us, smiling. “Don’t miss it.”
Oscar Maydón may have started in a Mexicali high school group, but he’s now one of the most talked-about voices in regional Mexican music. His fans aren’t just listening. They’re copying his look. Singing his lyrics. Crying at his shows. And for Maydón, that kind of love is the only currency that really matters.
“When you give something to people,” he said, “they give it back tenfold—with love, with screams, just by showing up. It means everything.”
