It's time once again to tell you all about what's been going on in my world in the here and now, because Brazen has a new musical thing going and I think it's about time to tell you the amazing story behind it, and also to pay tribute to the man who started the ball rolling on it, then tragically left this world before I could finally make it happen.
Perhaps the story begins one fateful day in Orlando in late 2017, when a wonderful and eccentric young guitarist and songwriter named Bobby Clock was just taking a leisurely evening walk 'round his 'hood after work one day. Suddenly, he heard some very live drumming blasting out of someone's garage. Naturally, the musician in him just had to investigate, so Bobby hopped the fence in front of the house and almost scared the drummer walking in. He was from Mexico, his name was Cesar Marquez, and he had been living in O-Town for about a decade but hadn't played in any bands since he'd left Veracruz -- in fact, he was just starting to get back into playing drums. Bobby told Cesar he was looking to get his band going again and invited him to audition. In the process he found a very unique migrant with a mind of his own and a taste for musical adventure no one would have suspected.
Or maybe the story begins a few months earlier than that, when yours truly was invited to share a bill with Danny Feedback and Dr. Faux & the Right Angles at the infamous Copper Rocket Pub and Bobby was in the audience supporting Danny, his very best friend since high school. I remember him complimenting me quite enthusiastically afterward, and you can hear him roaring out his approval from the crowd on my recording of the show for sure. I, of course, had known of Danny pretty much since I first came to Orlando and was (and still am) in total awe of his eccentric and ever-changing all-around creative genius. Little did I know that he and Bobby were both about to become a big part of my O-Town rock & roll family.
As far as I'm concerned, though, the real story here starts sometime in the spring of 2018 when I first saw Bobby Clock and the Soda Pops play at a show at Uncle Lou's, backed by the outrageous visual effects of my longtime collaborator and friend Joshua Rogers. It seemed strange to me that the name was plural, seeing as how Cesar was the only Soda Pop at the time. But this time I complimented Bobby afterward and then, without thinking, suggested we make some sounds together. Mind you, it wasn't like I was looking to play with anyone then; I hadn't been in a band in 20 years and felt contented to just keep on truckin' as a solo act. So I surprised even myself when that suggestion came out of my mouth so suddenly.
Eventually Bobby and I did get together and jam at his place, just making a lot of neat improvised noise with me doing some cool shit on the bass, which caught his ear most noticeably. The following week, on the fifth of July, I went back for another jam and Cesar was there with him. "Ray, we've got a proposition for you," he began, before praising my bass skills to the heavens and inviting me to officially make the Soda Pops a full power trio. And that was the start of a whole new musical journey for me that I'm still on to this day.
Bobby Clock and the Soda Pops, with me on bass and Cesar on drums, played a string of shows in the Orlando area that wonderful summer of 2018, and brought anarchy and mayhem everywhere we went. My unannounced debut with the Pops had friends walking in off the street and looking on goggle-eyed as we blew the roof off Uncle Lou's. A couple weeks later, kicking off a bill at the Haven (now known as the Conduit), we reportedly made the next band nervous about following us, and were later called "magic" by the show's promoter. And I almost killed Bobby after the last show we played when he borrowed my guitar and proceeded to stupidly duct-tape his broken strap to it and break a string on top of it! Folks loved us, hated us, feared us, but we triumphed with our sludgy, heavy sounds. It was a great summer, one of the most memorable of my life, and it was topped off with Bobby and Cesar throwing a lovely surprise party for me on my birthday.
Unfortunately, my time as a Soda Pop was fleeting, and I'd only wanted to stick around for a short while anyway, so Bobby replaced me with none other than Danny Feedback, who brought a very different bass style and vibe to the band. (The two had previously collaborated on other projects, most notably Hippy Gone Wrong's "Analog Wildflower," perhaps the hardest, heaviest album I've ever heard come out of Orlando, Florida.) But tragically, these changes coincided with the rapid downward spiral of Bobby. After years of struggle with heroin addiction, he overdosed at the far-too-young age of 32 the very next summer. Bobby was both brilliant and troubled, a truly complex and overwhelming figure who was impossible to pin down. There was so much going on in him that just one summer spent as the Soda Pops seemed like half a lifetime's worth of rock & roll band experience to us. The adventures we had in just that short a time are way too much to go into here. But he would leave us to carry on as loud and proud as ever.
The times became rough, very very rough. Bobby's demise marked the beginning of the darkest period of my entire life, as my dad passed away just a few months later and then the pandemic hit, which fueled my inevitable descent into a very deep depression. But in a strange twist of fate, Cesar and I wound up quarantining together, and this situation would save my life. In all honesty, if he hadn't been there for me during this time, I don't know what the fuck I would've done with myself. Cesar deserves all your praise as well as mine for this alone.
We turned out to be perfect lockdown partners, and spent countless hours together just sitting in the shitty apartment he shared with his cousin at the time and talking about food, music, food, Bobby, food, and Mexican culture (especially the food). We went over his video archives from our days as the Soda Pops and from these resources we created a Youtube channel to preserve Bobby's memory. Somewhere along the way I introduced Cesar to my beloved Dug Dugs, whom he hadn't heard of back in Mexico, and as always happens when I play "Smog" for new friends, he became another huge fan! Our times hanging out together during Covid really helped us cope with all we were going through in the wake of Bobby's death, and a close friendship quickly grew out of it.
Cesar and I had made a vow to make music together again in honor of Bobby -- in fact, the deal I'd made to join the Soda Pops was that they were eventually going to be MY backing band -- but we had no place to play at the time. The apartment complex Cesar lived in was just horrible, with neighbors living directly under him, and you couldn't even attempt to use it as a practice space. So instead we just sat on his balcony and stared into the sky, week after agonizing week of quarantine, just as bored shitless as everyone else with no shows to play or go to. One day we plugged his Korg Kaossilator synth (which he'd used many times to create spacey effects with the Soda Pops) into a practice amp and blasted it on the balcony just to watch the reactions from folks on the street, taking it just about as far as we could -- that's how bored we were. But when the police locked down that decrepit project one Saturday looking for an active shooter, we knew we had to get the fuck out of there as soon as possible.
So as our wretched 2020 came to a close, Cesar finally moved to a little shack not far away in a much better area in Apopka, and at last the seeds were planted for a new beginning. We now had a place we could make noise in, and I remembered the deal I'd made with him and Bobby to make them my backing band as well. By this time Cesar was keeping his drumming chops up playing in Danny Feedback's band, and when they shared the bill with me at the Subgenius Church-sponsored X-Day Fest over the July 4th weekend of '21, they devoted half their set to Pops covers while I played songs which would soon feature in our next phase. The lockdown was over, my depression was lifting, and finally, on Labor Day weekend, Cesar and I blew the lid off that boring holiday and had the jam session which officially started it all anew. On the spot I suggested we rename ourselves Los Jarritos, after our favorite Mexican... wait for it... soda pop! The perfect new name, one which alluded somewhat to the past while firmly establishing a new beginning.
Los Jarritos began with a few cover tunes and some of my classic songs, but soon our renewed partnership inspired new original material in a tighter and more garage-y style than the Soda Pops. Taking inspiration from our scene and our surroundings, I came up with numbers like "Agua Fresca" and "Take Me Back To June" and "Chili Candy," songs reflective of our cultures, our environment and those weekly practices in Cesar's neighborhood in Apopka, a little mini-Mexico just on the outer tip of Orlando which has some of the most amazing Mexican food I've ever eaten in my life. I also wrote a very personal song called "Lifers" inspired by my own long rock & roll history and all the other old friends I know out there who are still playing it. We quickly got good enough to start playing out again, and where else could we have started doing shows but at the place we first and last played together, Uncle Lou's. Since then we've made one nice, raw, live Bandcamp release with my trusty pocket recorder which longtime Brazen & Bobby supporters Orlando Weekly wrote a great review of (thanks, Bao), and have even more musical surprises in store for the very near future! (Listen to "Lifers" below!)
When Los Jarritos performed at Uncle Lou's on the fifth anniversary of Bobby Clock's passing, it was just for a few very close friends and family members including Bobby's mother and younger brother (who already looks a lot like him!), and we all got something very positive out of it. We continuously referenced Bobby throughout the set before becoming the Soda Pops all over again for an extended jam on Bobby's "See & Look" as our last number. That was a moment which truly brought the whole thing full circle, and drove home the fact that Los Jarritos formed not only to respect Bobby, but to heal ourselves from perhaps the most untimely losses we've yet witnessed, not just of Bobby but of ALL THREE band members' fathers as well. (Fate can be very cruel sometimes, what the fuck can I say?)
And that's the story of two of the best bands I've ever had the pleasure of being part of. Just as Nirvana became the Foo Fighters, the Soda Pops have become Los Jarritos. Indeed it is a story with all the classic elements involved. One has to wonder if any of this would've happened had Bobby not heard that drumming coming from that garage down his street, or liked what he'd seen and heard of me weeks before. Would we ever have known what we would've missed?
A zillion thanks to Jim Leatherman, legendary photographer and big Brazen fan, for his awesome photos of us playing live at Uncle Lou's!
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