Ken Burns Hates Mexicans

Some Kind of Raza

My favorite moment in the Metallica documentary Some Kind of Monster was when Lars, James, and Kirk told Robert Trujillo he would be the legendary band's new bass player. A reaction shot of the exuberant Trujillo, literally jumping around in delight like a ten year old kid, demonstrated the joyous power of rock and roll, never mind the heaviness of metal, or the menacing, hulking, beefy, Brown, long-haired metal musician.

Prior to his current Metallica gig, Trujillo was  best known as the bass player for the Venice hardcore/punk band Suicidal Tendencies, a distinctly L.A. group where lead singer Mike Muir often dressed like a cholo. As the band's second bass player, Trujillo fucking rocked on Suicidal's post-punk, metal thrash period, and the influence of Trujillo's funk based leanings clearly heard on the band's then evolving sound. 

Yesterday the new inductees for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame were introduced. Metallica was among them. There will plenty of time in the future to debate the merits of the band's inclusion, but for now, let us praise Roberto Agustin Trujillo, a Mexican American in the Hall of Fame.

So go here to see the audition sequence from Some Kind of Monster. Highly, highly recommended, not only as great documentary filmmaking, but an insightful discussion by Lars et al which articulates the unique musical and technical bass stylings of Trujillo. And I leave you with a clip of a Trujillo bass solo, an extended opening of Metallica's For Whom the Bell Tolls. Classic.

UPDATE: Ooops. My bad. It seems I jumped the gun. An astute reader has corrected me on my error. The RNR Hall of Fame list, of which Metallica is only one of the nine names, are the nominees. Not the five inductees. They will be announced later. So let's keep a vela lit for Mr. Trujillo. And also for fellow nominee War, of Lowrider fame.

Set Your TiVos for Some Secret History

Since my favorite rock and roller of all time is probably Alejandro Escovedo, I'm sure you've read the various gushing fan boy posts I've scribbled on the Texas native these past two years on KBHM. Apologies for repeating myself, but the guy is fucking badass. I caught him this past Monday night at the Troubador in L.A. (Variety review here) and homeboy did not disappoint. Big guitars for days, references to Mott the Hoople, Iggy Pop -- and when was the last time you heard someone who used to hang out with Sid Vicious at the Chelsea use the word Chicano in a joke criticizing both George Bush and the stupid wall our government is building on the border?

Opening for Alejandro were Carrie Rodriguez, Austin transplant now living in Brooklyn, and fellow alt rocker Texas native David Garza, who joined Escovedo for his encore songs, including a weird and wonderful version of the Stones Beast of Burden. Talk about a post-brown boho lineup. Ed Morales would be proud.

After thirty plus years of under-the-radar cult acclaim, and a reputation as a musician's musician, Escovedo recently signed with Springsteen agent Jon Landau. In record time, a YouTube clip of Al jamming with the Boss began making the rounds, he's getting some mainstream press, NPR interviews, a gig at the Democratic National Convention (very badass first person account of the night here), and tonight Escovedo will perform on the tonight show. All good things come to those who wait, even 57 year old rockers. I leave you with a two clips of Alejandro, first from 1997 and a performance of his song Gravity, and second, a thrashing cover of Iggy Pop's I Wanna Be Your Dog. Rock on.

Another Secret History

Carolina Gonzales from the very fine Soundtaste blog posted an interesting story in the context of the California Supreme Court's decision this week to allow gay marriages. Another Secret History, and another example of my theory that if you throw a rock at most any historical social and/or political event in U.S. history and you'll hit a brown person. Carolina's post is too delicious not to post in its entirety:

I have to admit, I only read the headlines in California's Supreme Court gay marriage decision this week.

So I did not notice the revealing tidbit that Gary Dauphin footnoted a couple of days ago: the Supremes' decision was largely based on the 1948 case Perez v. Sharp, which challenged interracial marriage bans way before Loving v. Virgina (1967) and involved a Mexican American woman and a Black man.

The reason the couple was denied a wedding license and the case went to court was that Andrea Perez was considered "white." Gary posted her picture. I'm re-posting it here. If she's white, I'm downright Aryan.

Like Mendez v. Westminster, the anti-school desegregation case that predated Brown v. Board of Ed by almost a decade, Perez v. Sharp was also a key precedent-setter with Latino plaintiffs that crowbarred the door open to extend fundamental civil rights to others.

Gary argues that it's no coincidence that this case (I would argue both cases) took place in the other state I consider home, California. This supports Roberto Lovato's theory that California is ground zero for Latino-led radical social change in this country.

Yet another instance in which we are erased from the history of fighting for American civil rights, human rights. Been here all along, time to make sure others notice.

And while we're on the subject of law and order let's not forget the equally precedent-setting case of Hernandez v. Texas, a 1954 case argued before the Supreme Court by Gus Garcia, which decided that Mexican Americans and other racial groups had equal protection under the 14th Amendment of the U.S. Constitution. Garcia's argument was considered by Chief Justice Earl Warren one of the best ever presented before the court. Of course it's been lost. Oh well.

I have to admit, I only read the headlines in California's Supreme Court gay marriage decision this week.

So I did not notice the revealing tidbit that Gary Dauphin footnoted a couple of days ago: the Supremes' decision was largely based on the 1948 case Perez v. Sharp, which challenged interracial marriage bans way before Loving v. Virgina (1967) and involved a Mexican American woman and a Black man.

The reason the couple was denied a wedding license and the case went to court was that Andrea Perez was considered "white." Gary posted her picture. I'm re-posting it here. If she's white, I'm downright Aryan.

Like Mendez v. Westminster, the anti-school desegregation case that predated Brown v. Board of Ed by almost a decade, Perez v. Sharp was also a key precedent-setter with Latino plaintiffs that crowbarred the door open to extend fundamental civil rights to others.

Gary argues that it's no coincidence that this case (I would argue both cases) took place in the other state I consider home, California. This supports Roberto Lovato's theory that California is ground zero for Latino-led radical social change in this country.

Yet another instance in which we are erased from the history of fighting for American civil rights, human rights. Been here all along, time to make sure others notice.

The Brown Buffalo

Came across this clip of Oscar Zeta Acosta live, reading from his book, The Revolt of the Cockroach People. A rare glimpse of the man, the myth, the legend.

The Zelig of Rock and Roll

In my view, no Mexican American performer better embodies the notion of Secret History and/or Phantom Sighting than Alejandro Escovedo. During his long rock and roll career Escovedo was present at the birth of West Coast punk in the late 70s; opened for the Sex Pistol's for the legendary English band's infamous last gig at the Winterland in 1978, hung out with Sid and Nancy in the days before the couple's last days at the Chelsea; invented cowpunk with his NYC band Rank and File; helped form in the mid 80s what we now know at the Austin music scene; all the while creating some of the most heartfelt rock and roll all under the radar of the national media. From a link where you can hear Alejandro as he is best heard: live in front of an audience:

Born into a large Mexican immigrant family in San Antonio, Escovedo was heavily influenced by his father, who loved music and often sang in local mariachi bands. His career began with The Nuns, a mid-'70s punk outfit from San Francisco; later, he co-founded the country-influenced punk band Rank and File. He began to make a name for himself in True Believers with his brother Javier, with national tours supporting the likes of Los Lobos, and his solo career took off with 1992's critically acclaimed Gravity. Since then, Escovedo has recorded eight albums under his own name, in the process winning numerous awards and accolades, including "Artist of the Decade" from No Depression magazine.

One of my favorite cover songs of all time is Escovedo's transcendent take on the Mott the Hoople classic All the Young Dudes. Just a few days ago Alejandro played with Bruce Springsteen at the Boss's Houston concert. Several friends have sent me the link. I share it with you now. And for further Alejandro clips to enjoy go here to see him perform my second favorite cover song of all time, Escovedo's version of Iggy Pop's I Wanna Be Your Dog; and in a Must See clip go here to see a story on the old 80s MTV show The Cutting Edge highlighting one of the biggest and baddest big guitar bands in rock and roll history, The True Believers, which Alejandro fronted with his brother Javier. Chicanos with Guitars. Badass.   

The Day the Music Died

Ooops. I forgot to mention yesterday another significant event of March 31. So here it is, a day late, and I'll let another one of the entries from our "The Truthful History of the Conquest of Nuevo Aztlan" explain it all:

March 31, 1997 1995
Corpus Christi, Texas
Tejana singer Selena is gunned down at a Day's Inn motel. Mainstream media outlets from the BBC to the New York Times try to understand why sixty thousand mourners file past her casket in eleven hours. People magazine publishes a special issue devoted entirely to the life of the fallen singer. This had been done only twice before, after the deaths of Jackie Onassis and Audrey Hepburn. The Selena issue easily outsells them both combined. Soon after, the company launches People en Espanol A market is noticed.

And I'll end, via Perezhilton, with this way cool fan tribute video.

Even More Phantom Sightings

Four more entries from the Phantom Sightings timeline written by Ruben Ortiz and myself. The official title of our piece is called "The Truthful History of the Conquest of Nuevo Aztlan." It's supposed to be funny and ironic. Oh well. In any case here are some art inspired entries and a music video visual aid. The show opens this week. I'll still be in New York. Someone attend and please get back to me with Opening Night chisme:

1979
Los Angeles, California
Newly arrived Mexican immigrant, and art school student, Guillermo Gómez-Peña wraps himself in a serape, binds his body with rope, and lies in an intentionally pathetic heap on the floor of a well-traveled elevator in a downtown Los Angeles office building for twenty-four hours. Uncomfortable yuppies in business suits ignore the performance, titled Loneliness of the Immigrant. Twelve years later the MacArthur Foundation awards Gómez-Peña a fellowship, one of the so-called “Genius Awards.”

1988
Compton, California
California rap group NWA releases Straight Outta Compton and forever changes the iconic, East Coast hip-hop style of Adidas track suits, Kangol hats, and large gold chains to the more cholo style of Pendleton shirts, baggy khaki trousers, bandannas, and tattoos in Old English fonts. Two years later Arturo Molina, better known as Kid Frost, releases the classic hip-hop album Hispanic Causing Panic, featuring the single ‘La Raza.’ In the accompanying music video, Chicano nationalism goes MTV as lowriders, bigotes, gang signs, Dickies, the Aztec calendar, and other barrio signifiers, are beamed into surburban gringo dens from Orange County to Long Island.

July 7, 1993
Seattle, Washington
Mia Zapata, lead singer of the influential rock band the Gits, is murdered in a dark alley just as the national press discovers the so-called grunge movement of the Pacific Northwest. Artistic contemporaries of Nirvana and Pearl Jam, Zapata and the Gits will not enjoy a major-label record deal, never get MTV airplay, and never grace a Rolling Stone cover. A phantom sighting.

2002
San Antonio, Texas
Pedro Herrera, the son of Mexican immigrants, hosts a hip-hop show on his Trinity University college radio station. In the dark anonymity of the studio the quiet scholarship boy transforms himself into Chingo Bling, a trash-talking rapper with a voice described as “somewhere between B-Real’s nasel tone, Tony Montana’s fierce growl, and you cousin Pepe’s Mexican accent.” With his Nike-swoosed ostrich boots, black cowboy hat, platinum teeth, and often holding his beloved pet rooster Cleto (not to mention an entrepreneurial empire that includes Chingo Bling bobble heads, spring-break “Girls Gone Wild”-type DVDs, and a line of Tamale Christmas ornaments), the self described “ghetto vaquero” and performance artist out-Gómez-Peñas Gómez-Peña.

Too Many Teardrops

Got my computer back from the repair shop today. Finally. Immediately tidied up my hard drive, cleaning up files, documents, and the occasional downloaded picture of Cheryl Burke. And even better, came across this article I wrote a few years back about the coolest Chicano band of all time, Question Mark and the Mysterians (check out their website here.) I leave you with my text and a clip of their hit song:

Throughout pop history, one-hit wonders stand as three minute testaments to the sometimes accessible and occationally democratic nature of American rock and roll. Billboard evidence that a no-name garage band can, overnight, with the right song, timing, and dumb luck, become a Spin magazine cover girl and/or boy. And while these kinds of rags to riches stories are pretty much the glorious MTV exception rather than the anonymous bar band rule, in 1966 five Mexican kids, the sons of Saginaw, Michigan migrant workers, via Corpus Christi, Texas, beat the odds and accomplished just that.

‘96 Tears,’ their crude, catchy, home recorded single, hit number one all across America. A solo, yet potent, US salvo against the then burgeoning British invasion. Even Dick Clark couldn’t ignore these brown skinned homeboys, the enigmatically named rock band called ? and the Mysterians.

Since ‘96 Tears’ song hit the AM airwaves, legends and band misinformation have flourished, much to the intended delight, I’m sure, of bizarro frontman Rudy Martinez, who not only was never photographed without his dark sunglasses, but legally changed his name to ?. Speculation as to just “who are these guys” not only contributed to the song’s success, but in hindsight, makes you wonder why Chicano kids (like Question Mark; like Sam the Sham, aka Domingo Samudio) felt the need to hide their brown identity in the lily white field of U.S. rock and roll. But then again maybe not. Considering it was 1966, and these guys were poor Chicano kids from nowhere, it’s no suprise that in the seven months between recording and stardom, two of the original band members were called to Vietnam. They made it back, but the band broke up. ‘96 Tears,’ however, lives on forever.

More Phantom Sightings

As mentioned earlier, the Los Angeles County Museum of Art's Phantom Sightings exhibit opens next week. This latest "state of things" in contemporary post-Chicano art will be a snapshot of the ideas, obsessions, curiosities, and creative expressions by a new generation of Brown artists. And, of course, a chance to drink lots of free beer at the opening. And, as I also mentioned earlier, me and Ruben Ortiz wrote an official "Chicano Timeline 0f Significant Cultura Events" for the show's catalog. Why official? Because we said so. Y Que. Here's three of the entries...

March 1836
San Antonio de Bexar, Republic of Mexico
Among the fallen defenders at the Battle of the Alamo is Major James Butler Bonham, of South Carolina, who historians believe died manning a cannon in the chapel's interior during the bloody final assault.  150 years later, a building named in his honor, the Bohnam Exchange, becomes the largest and best-known gay dance club in South Texas.

1858
New York City, New York
The Firth, Pond and Company of New York publish the popular Texican folk song €œThe Yellow Rose of Texas.€ The tune's lyrics detail the story of the beautiful and winsome mulatto slave Emily Morgan who helped win the decisive Battle of San Jacinto by having sex with General Santa Ana by distracting the self-described "Napoleon of the West" as the army of Sam Houston made their victorious attack. For the record: Emily Morgan never met Santa Ana and never was at San Jacinto -- but it is a true that Mexico lost Texas, the new Republic instituted slavery, and a monument to Emily was once proposed that would feature Santa Ana in his underwear and military jacket as the General picked petals off a rose discretely covering her genitals.

January 5, 1914
El Paso, Texas
Two years before his infamous invasion of the United States at Columbus, N.M., Mexican General Pancho Villa signs a movie contract with the Mutual Film Corporation to film Villa in battle "during daylight if possible"€” in exchange for $25,000. With this contract, Villa -- "the Centaur of the North,"€ leader of the elite cavalry known as €œlos dorados, and political muse of writer John Reed -- becomes the first reality media star.

We wrote about 70 of these true facts from history, from Juan Diego to Selena to Piolin. I'll post a few more entries in the days leading up to the opening.

And finally, here's a Youtube clip for your enjoyment: Visiting me in LA for the Phantom Sightings opening next week will be my old San Anto buddy artist Cruz Ortiz -- who never met a piece of cardboard he couldn't make into a large gallery piece. And then exhibit at the Dallas Contemporary. Cruz's new work for the show has something to do with giant wings constructed of ten foot sticks of bamboo and used H-E-B grocery bags (plastic). He then uses the functional sculpture in a subsequent performance piece in which Cruz will attempt to fly. And then, of course, take the opportunity to drink lots of free beer. A symposium for Phantom Sightings takes place at LACMA from 10:00 am to 5:30 pm. Cruz and his rasquache bamboo wings go airborne in the afternoon. Till then, here's video from his Test Flight #2:

You Heard It Here First...

On April 6 Phantom Sightings: Art After the Chicano Movement opens at the Los Angeles Country Museum of Art. As the title suggests, the exhibition is an effort to make some sort of sense about what it means re: Brown people making art post-movement, post-Chicano, and post-colonial. Don't ask me the answer to this admittedly loaded question, I'm still trying to figure out why they canceled George Lopez.

I mention the LACMA show because I collaborated with my friend artist Ruben Ortiz on a written timeline for Phantom Sightings: our totally subjective picks of crucial events in raza cultural history that have made us what we are, and inspired Latinos to create sublime artistic expressions such as Bidi Bidi Bom Bom, anything by Esteban Jordan (the Jimi Hendriz of the Accordian), "Sueno de una tarde en la Alameda Central" (view here), and certain recent pieces by Latino artists at this year's Whitney Biennial.

So here's two of the more than 60 plus entries to give you an idea of our timeline:

1944
Mexico City, Mexico
Wearing a Zoot Suit, speaking Spanglish, and billed as “the only Authentic Pachuco,” pioneer border-crosser, German Valdés, aka “Tin Tan,” triumphantly returns from his Juarez/El Paso self-exile to dazzle sold-out Mexico City music hall crowds with all things proto Chicano.  Mexican traditionalists bemoan the entertainer’s pocho ways as a “barbarian invasion from the North.”  Two decades later, Tin Tan politely declines an offer by the Beatles to stand among the luminaries gracing the cover of their Sgt. Pepper’s album.  He asks, instead, that a photo of Mexican tree take his place.  A phantom sighting.

June 29, 1955
Oaxaca, Mexico
Mexican curandera Maria Sabina gives psychedelic mushrooms to a vacationing J.P. Morgan banker from New York City.  Life Magazine publishes the mind-altering experience in a travel article titled “Seeking the Magic Mushroom.”  Among the impressionable readers of the story in this the country’s most popular weekly is Timothy Leary.  As news spreads, subsequent acolytes to Sabina’s sacred mushroom ceremony in the remote Oaxacan village will include Mick Jagger, John Lennon, Pete Townsend, and Bob Dylan.  Rock music is forever changed.

April 6. Mark your calendars. I'll post a couple of more of our entries in the weeks ahead as the date approaches. Everything you wanted to know about Captain Kirk, Selena, the Alamo, Ozzy, hydraulics, etc. etc., and what they have to do with all things Latino and pop. For anyone interested, the timeline is featured in the Phantom Sightings exhibition catalog which is available here.