Two things happen in Southern California at the start of November, and for a very specific kind of person they have always quietly been the same thing. One is a weekend of altars and marigolds and families visiting their dead. The other is a band from Sacramento whose records have soundtracked grief for three decades for a largely Mexican-American audience that was never really acknowledged as its core. Putting them together is not a marketing idea. It is a recognition of something that was already true, and the fact that this is an unofficial satellite show rather than the official thing is exactly why it will be the better room. Nobody is there by accident. Everybody has the same two reference points and does not need either explained. If you are the person who has spent years mildly annoyed that nobody writes about this overlap, this is the night, and you already know precisely which friend to send it to.
Two things happen in Southern California at the start of November, and for a very specific kind of person they have always quietly been the same thing. One is a weekend of altars and marigolds and families visiting their dead. The other is a band from Sacramento whose records have soundtracked grief for three decades for a largely Mexican-American audience that was never really acknowledged as its core. Putting them together is not a marketing idea. It is a recognition of something that was already true, and the fact that this is an unofficial satellite show rather than the official thing is exactly why it will be the better room. Nobody is there by accident. Everybody has the same two reference points and does not need either explained. If you are the person who has spent years mildly annoyed that nobody writes about this overlap, this is the night, and you already know precisely which friend to send it to.
Two things happen in Southern California at the start of November, and for a very specific kind of person they have always quietly been the same thing. One is a weekend of altars and marigolds and families visiting their dead. The other is a band from Sacramento whose records have soundtracked grief for three decades for a largely Mexican-American audience that was never really acknowledged as its core. Putting them together is not a marketing idea. It is a recognition of something that was already true, and the fact that this is an unofficial satellite show rather than the official thing is exactly why it will be the better room. Nobody is there by accident. Everybody has the same two reference points and does not need either explained. If you are the person who has spent years mildly annoyed that nobody writes about this overlap, this is the night, and you already know precisely which friend to send it to.