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Gonzo Report: Stage jump and Jupiter Flight at Til-Two
The rebirth of guitarist Ricardo Luna, plus beer and bananas
“It’s Ricardo’s birthday, he can spin if he wants to.”
One night a few years ago, while under the influence of well tequila at Til-Two, I had a moment with a friendly security guard. We were cool with each other right up to the point where I jumped on the stage after the bands finished their sets and my shirt...fell off. He came running up on stage after me, but I quickly moved out of the way, and he hurled himself head-first into an unmanned drum set. I even made a high pitched “whoop” noise as he flew by. At least that’s what a friend later told me in a fit of laughter. My performance completed, I helped the guard back to his feet, put my shirt back on, and bowed my way off the stage. Fortunately, the guard didn’t kick me out. The boos, booze, and beat went on.
On a much more recent Friday night, while I was walking up to the City Heights club, I wondered if that same bouncer would be working the door. Would he remember me? Had he spent the past two years plotting revenge against me for embarrassing him in front of his peers? Was he just waiting for me to show my face again so he could put my head through a snare drum? The short answer was no. New bouncers guarded the door. Bigger bouncers. Just as friendly, but I quickly decided they were not the sort to be lured onto the stage as unwitting assistants in my comedy act.
After a quick ID check and a $10 cover charge, I was back to the scene of my triumph. The guy guarding the door seemed to be in good spirits; he did a little slide dance as he let us through. My homie Vania was already battling for attention at the packed bar. Moments later, Jupiter Flight guitarist Ricardo Luna walked by. It was known that come midnight, it would be his birthday. As one woman puffing a cigarette outside put it, “Ricardo is about to be born!” But before he could be born — for the 40th time — his band would need to rock their set.
During that set, I glanced over and noticed a guy in the crowd with a beer in one and a banana with the other. I guess, man. Then I remembered the type of crowd Til-Two attracts, the freedom-of-expression types who wear dark colored clothing. Cigarettes over vapes. Teeth grinders with dilated pupils. Dwellers in the darkness. And murderers of yellow, elongated fruit dipped in beer. Another friend had what looked like a glass of water in her hand. I asked if I could have a drink. “It’s tequila,” she shouted over the music. I looked at her, and then over to the bouncer — and thought, “I’d better not.”
But not all the night was darkness. After a long set spent beating on the drums, Jorge Luna floated around the house in what could be described as a man glowing in his divine feminine. “I love the fact that he can play the drums and sing at the same time,” Vania said. When he approached us for introductions, I noted that Vania also played the drums. Universal powers seemed to be gripping us: Luna lit up and said the band was possibly looking for a drummer, so that he could focus more on singing and being a front man. “We want a female drummer,” he said. “Men hit too hard.”
As The Smiths cover band Unruly Boys closed out the live music for the night the party migrated outside. But inside there was still world enough and time for somebody to spin some records to keep remaining the crowd moving. I looked around for Ricardo to tell him happy birthday, but I couldn’t find him.
Soon after, somebody started playing some Doors. Smokes were snuffed out. It was time to go back inside. A guard at the door stepped in front of me to block me from entering. I figured the jig was up. He must have heard about my previous shenanigans. He wasn’t going to let this fool inside, not when tequila had been in circulation. But he simply asked for ID again. The other guard told him I had already paid. The gatekeeper stepped aside.
When we re-entered, Ricardo was back on stage, spinning records. The guitarist had been reborn as a DJ. It got me wondering: what will he be born as next year?
Here's something you might be interested in.
Gonzo Report: Stage jump and Jupiter Flight at Til-Two
The rebirth of guitarist Ricardo Luna, plus beer and bananas
Gonzo Report: Stage jump and Jupiter Flight at Til-Two
The rebirth of guitarist Ricardo Luna, plus beer and bananas
“It’s Ricardo’s birthday, he can spin if he wants to.”
One night a few years ago, while under the influence of well tequila at Til-Two, I had a moment with a friendly security guard. We were cool with each other right up to the point where I jumped on the stage after the bands finished their sets and my shirt...fell off. He came running up on stage after me, but I quickly moved out of the way, and he hurled himself head-first into an unmanned drum set. I even made a high pitched “whoop” noise as he flew by. At least that’s what a friend later told me in a fit of laughter. My performance completed, I helped the guard back to his feet, put my shirt back on, and bowed my way off the stage. Fortunately, the guard didn’t kick me out. The boos, booze, and beat went on.
On a much more recent Friday night, while I was walking up to the City Heights club, I wondered if that same bouncer would be working the door. Would he remember me? Had he spent the past two years plotting revenge against me for embarrassing him in front of his peers? Was he just waiting for me to show my face again so he could put my head through a snare drum? The short answer was no. New bouncers guarded the door. Bigger bouncers. Just as friendly, but I quickly decided they were not the sort to be lured onto the stage as unwitting assistants in my comedy act.
After a quick ID check and a $10 cover charge, I was back to the scene of my triumph. The guy guarding the door seemed to be in good spirits; he did a little slide dance as he let us through. My homie Vania was already battling for attention at the packed bar. Moments later, Jupiter Flight guitarist Ricardo Luna walked by. It was known that come midnight, it would be his birthday. As one woman puffing a cigarette outside put it, “Ricardo is about to be born!” But before he could be born — for the 40th time — his band would need to rock their set.
During that set, I glanced over and noticed a guy in the crowd with a beer in one and a banana with the other. I guess, man. Then I remembered the type of crowd Til-Two attracts, the freedom-of-expression types who wear dark colored clothing. Cigarettes over vapes. Teeth grinders with dilated pupils. Dwellers in the darkness. And murderers of yellow, elongated fruit dipped in beer. Another friend had what looked like a glass of water in her hand. I asked if I could have a drink. “It’s tequila,” she shouted over the music. I looked at her, and then over to the bouncer — and thought, “I’d better not.”
But not all the night was darkness. After a long set spent beating on the drums, Jorge Luna floated around the house in what could be described as a man glowing in his divine feminine. “I love the fact that he can play the drums and sing at the same time,” Vania said. When he approached us for introductions, I noted that Vania also played the drums. Universal powers seemed to be gripping us: Luna lit up and said the band was possibly looking for a drummer, so that he could focus more on singing and being a front man. “We want a female drummer,” he said. “Men hit too hard.”
As The Smiths cover band Unruly Boys closed out the live music for the night the party migrated outside. But inside there was still world enough and time for somebody to spin some records to keep remaining the crowd moving. I looked around for Ricardo to tell him happy birthday, but I couldn’t find him.
Soon after, somebody started playing some Doors. Smokes were snuffed out. It was time to go back inside. A guard at the door stepped in front of me to block me from entering. I figured the jig was up. He must have heard about my previous shenanigans. He wasn’t going to let this fool inside, not when tequila had been in circulation. But he simply asked for ID again. The other guard told him I had already paid. The gatekeeper stepped aside.
When we re-entered, Ricardo was back on stage, spinning records. The guitarist had been reborn as a DJ. It got me wondering: what will he be born as next year?
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