Photo by Jack GouldThe March 6 police and fire department raid on JC Fandango wasn't really surprising. It wasn't unusual that the club was, officials said, about 500 people over capacity. Nor was it strange that Anaheim's men in blue responded so swiftly to a 911 call—they're always in rapt attention whenever Latinos break the law. No, the biggest shocker of the shutdown was that everyone involved came out better than before:
•The local media had their own “perilous club” story, and they spun it with the same solemnity of the Great White and Chicago tragedies. During its 6:30 a.m. newscast on Friday, KMEX/Channel 34 showed footage of bleary rockeros exiting JC Fandango while a stern newscaster described the stifling club atmosphere. “Packed Latin Music Club Closed,” screamed a headline on the front page of The Orange County Register's Saturday local section. Both the Regand LA Timesquoted shaken fire officials who were angry that JC Fandango allowed so many people over the posted limit. Each story also suggested owner Javier Castellanos might serve six months in prison for breaking the law.
•That media obsession gave Castellanos precious free exposure. While some clubs are as empty as the inside of the president's head, this one was at double capacity. “I was interviewed by so many papers, television and radio stations—the story spread all over the market quickly,” Castellanos grinned. “Our phones were ringing all day Friday and Saturday with people wanting to know if we were shut down for good. And we got e-mails from people who had never come here wanting directions. I couldn't buy publicity this good.”
•Fire officials fulfilled their civic obligations without any problems. “I completely understood where they were coming from,” Castellanos said. “Sure, it sucked being shut down, but they were completely cool and didn't hassle us at all. They came the following day and apologized for what they did. But I told them there was nothing personal; they were merely doing their job—and a good one, at that.”
•Concertgoers were allowed to vent their rage, enjoy nearly three-quarters of a bad-ass show andget their money back. Opening for Monterrey, Mexico-based skankerosInspector was local ska/punk acts Las 15 Letras and Chencha Berrinches, each of whom caused near-riots with their giddy thwacks. Inspector played three sensuous songs before the fire department ordered the house lights on. Water bottles and other debris met Castellanos when he appeared onstage to declare the concert over. Rockeros who wanted refunds then loitered outside JC Fandango despite police orders to leave. Some began the immortal rockero chant “cu-le-ro” (“asshole!”). After that got tiresome, they modified the words—but not the tone—of the chant to include “puer-co” (“pig”), “di-ne-ro” (“money”), “des-ma-dre” (roughly “a big fucking mess”) and—bizarrely—the César Chávez chant “¡Sí, se puede!”
Castellanos calmed the crowd, giving everyone an option: get in one line for refunds or another to obtain tickets for a make-up show scheduled Saturday evening. Most took the moolah.
•Having a captive crowd outside allowed two near-midgets to hand out fliers to “DFectivos del Rock 2003,” a March 29 concert at the Los Angeles Sports Arena featuring Mexico City metal bands.
•Inspector's label, Universal, sent out a press release the day after the show with the title “Concert in Anaheim: SOLD OUT and canceled for the vast amount of people inside and outside JC Fandango.” The multicolored document went further: “Inspector is repeating the phenomenon of its tour in Mexico in the United States, realigning the expectations of concert promoters who confess to not having been prepared for the amount of people attending Inspector's first two concerts.”
If only all raids yielded so many winners. . . .
