Juanita & Juan
with Mala Greña
2330 Telegraph Avenue, Oakland
April 12, 2025
Hardcore California, a floppy, awkwardly shaped paperback approximately the size of a vinyl record sleeve published by Last Gasp, was a book full of beautiful black-and-white photographs and full-color album covers with stories of punk and new wave bands in Los Angeles and San Francisco. It was the bible for those at my Bay Area high school who cared about music other than the prevailing MTV pop and superficial day-glo pablum of the era, circulated amongst our tight-knit coterie until it became ragged and worn.
In those pre-internet days that near-holy publication informed our record store purchases. And xeroxed flyers, zines, and tiny ads in the pink-hued Datebook section of the Sunday edition of the San Francisco Chronicle provided us with info on what was going on in “The City” at venues like Mabuhay Gardens, the On Broadway, and The Farm. The Bags and The Gun Club were L.A. bands I was never able to see live.
But time heals all wounds. My partner and I got to see two legendary members of those bands at Thee Stork Club last Saturday: Alice Bag and Kid Congo Powers performing as the duo Juanita & Juan, a musical project they describe as a “psychedelic lounge act on a Mexican beach.” Invited to write an original song for the Peacock television series “The Resort,” in which the two briefly appear as the house band at the titular resort, Bag and Powers decided to keep the duet going. Their loungey act was weird, wonderful, and funny.
But first, openers Mala Greña. Self-described as “cumbia greñuda y rockera from the Bay Area” and fronted by Jo Alvarez, a “bilingual, queer artist from the Colombian diaspora,” the band was composed of six musicians who got down with a dirty, groovy cumbia rhythm that had many in the audience moving their bodies. I’d anticipated something more punk, but their funky sound was far from disappointing.
"Pachuco"
Their song “Movimientos de la Serpiente” rocked. The guitars, congas, and synth played off one another with varied speeds: fast and hard, then slowing down to an almost spookily reverbed tempo. But my favorite was “Pachuco.” “We’re going to get zoot suit on you,” said one band member in introduction of the song, which featured an awesome saxophone part that reminded me a bit of The Plugz.
The music didn’t stop during the break between the opening act and the headliner. A couple of DJs kept the sounds going, one of whom was a dude with a gray pageboy doo whose happy, nonstop bopping was even more entertaining than the tunes he and his colleague were spinning.
"Aftertaste"
After the break, “Juanita” (Alice Bag) and “Juan” (Kid Congo Powers) took their places onstage, Powers on guitar and Bag at the keyboard. “Don’t you wish you could go on a jungle cruise?” Kid asked the audience. The pair then jumped into “Aftertaste” from their album Jungle Cruise. The song is a slow burn, with Kid’s fuzzy guitar riffs accompanying Alice’s simple melodies that sound almost like they’re being played on a mini-Casio. It’s a ballad of love in all its difficulties and disappointments, its lyrics simultaneously humorous and melancholy. "I'm gonna brush my teeth with gasoline, to get your taste out of my mouth,” sang Alice. “I’m gonna set your clothes on fire. I’m gonna fumigate my house. You leave a bad, bad aftertaste.”
Juanita & Juan performed all eight songs from their album, spanning content and genres and frequently pulling from their respective youths. “The Prez," in reference to the fact that Kid was president of the Ramones Fan Club as a teenager, was an upbeat riot about seeing the Ramones when they came to L.A. “I didn’t ask permission,” Kid sang, “that wasn’t the punk way.” “HERE COMES THE PREZ!” Refrained Alice, whilst playing high-pitched, syncopated, wavering groove-notes on the keys.
Another song, "DBWMGWD” (“David Bowie Was My Gateway Drug”) was prefaced by Alice Bag who remarked, “I was an awkward teen. I was attracted to boys but also girls; what was wrong with me?!” As a youngster she’d read an interview with Bowie where he talked about his bisexuality, leading to this hilariously weird sounding song with lyrics encompassing Bowie, alienation, and space aliens.
When Juanita & Juan’s set was over there were cries for an encore. But Kid demurred, “Thank you, that’s it!” I could understand that. It was a late night for aging punks, way past my and my partner’s bedtime; the days of staying out until dawn long past. But the show was fantastic, our fatigue the good kind. And I felt like I finally got to see an approximate—and much funnier—version of the L.A. bands I’d missed in “The City” long ago.
