From ‘Abuelas y Tías’ to Gen Z, La Onda Festival Had a Song for Everyone

From 'Abuelas y Tías' to Gen Z, La Onda Festival Had a Song for Everyone

Banda and regional Mexican music holds the weight of memory, pride, and sacrifice. It is the music that plays in kitchens after long days and in parking lots where families gather because there’s nowhere else they’d rather be. At La Onda, the festival once again sponsored by Verizon, that sound echoed across generations, pulling thousands into one space built on shared experience and deep emotional release.

A Chorus of Cowboys, Queens, and Cries of Joy

From the very first note, people moved like they had been waiting for this reunion. Hats came off. Boots hit the dust. Arms were raised. And when Banda MS took the stage, the entire crowd surged forward without hesitation. People ran. No one wanted to miss the moment. The same could be said for Carín León, who walked on with humility and a warning. His throat was sore. He felt unwell. But his words held power. “Even if my throat starts bleeding, I will sing for you.” He calmed it with tequila, then delivered everything the crowd needed and more.

Tito Doble P brought his stage to life with new names like Neton Vega, offering a glimpse of where this sound is headed. They passed around Colombian aguardiente and sang their rolitas with grit. Chino Pacas arrived with force, electrifying his fans before stepping aside to meet them face to face in a quick meet and greet.

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A vibe at the @Verizon stage #fyp #parati #titodoblep #netonvega @TITO DOUBLE P👹🖤

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Xavi made the audience wait for it, but when he finally launched into “La Diabla,” it felt like the whole place cracked open. People screamed. People hugged. People lived in that song like they had written it themselves. Marco Antonio Solís gave them that same gift — songs that have lived in hearts for decades delivered by the man who made them real.

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We were too excited to sing “La Diabla” live alongside with Xavi so excuse the quality 🥲 but @Verizon kept us connected all festival #fyp #parati #xavi #belicona

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Alicia Villarreal stood tall. Her presence was calm but commanding. This was the same woman who once stopped a concert to speak out about abuse. Here, she told the crowd what they needed to hear. “You are strong. You are worthy.” There was no distance between her and the women watching her. Only connection.

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The Queen herself Alicia Villarreal 🫰🏼bridging generations and connections together because of @Verizon service at @La Onda by BottleRock 🙌 #fyp #parati #laondafest #aliciavillarreal

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Ángela Aguilar walked into the spotlight carrying months of public attention that made some wonder what she might say or do. She said nothing off script. She sang instead. Her performance honored her grandmother Flor Silvestre. She stood grounded in legacy and made clear that her voice remains her own.

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@Verizon connected generations at La Onda Festival #fyp #parati #angelaaguilar #musica

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And then there was SubeloNEON, who shifted the rhythm without shifting the energy. Their set leaned into reggaetón. And somehow, it all made sense. People danced differently, but they danced with the same commitment. It felt like one genre held hands with another and the crowd moved without pause.

The Right Connection

For those with Verizon, access meant more than a signal. It meant a shaded viewing area with seats, a full bar, and front-row placement that felt like a backstage pass. It meant a massage station to soothe tired muscles after hours of dancing, all in exchange for showing proof of service. It meant a second stage where artists performed just steps away from the crowd, and a signal strong enough to send that music out to anyone who could not make it in person.

From 'Abuelas y Tías' to Gen Z, La Onda Festival Had a Song for Everyone

Outside the gates, the celebration continued. Vendors offered authentic Mexican food. Merch stands sold clothing that felt more like declarations of identity. Conversations flowed. Boots stomped in time. Families picked out shirts for cousins. Music leaked through the fence while people danced without needing to see the stage.

La Onda Held Every Note That Would Not Fit Into Words

This was not nostalgia. This was something living. Something generational. La Onda did not feel like a music festival. It felt like a gathering of people who once sang these songs quietly at home, now singing them together at full volume. The music came from all sides. The past. The future. And the crowd answered each time like they had been waiting for someone to ask them to speak.

And in the middle of it all, banda and regional Mexican music did what it has always done. It connected people in ways words could never manage. Only this time, it had the volume, the space, and the stage it deserved.

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