Buenos Aires Dispatch: Down and Dirty at Dengue Dancing

Lorenzo “Lolo,” Anzoátegui, Ani Castoldi, and Luciano Lasca have that very elusive, very covetable of qualities: a truly authentic style. That’s the force that transformed their Buenos Aires-based night, Dengue Dancing, from a delightfully sloppy downtown happening to the only acceptable place to be on Thursdays. The trio was lucky enough to snap up Gong, an 80 year-old disco den, while it was in between junkie and cheto crowds. Everyone from Che Guevara to Jackie Onassis has set foot in this downtown mainstay, and some of the waiters, clad in baby-blue tuxedos and bowties, look like they’ve been down there as long as the Soviet-issue light machine from 1955.

So far, Dengue is that rare and delicate thing: a club night run by friends who don’t hate each other, where a bevy of DJs come out to dance to each other’s sets while they aren’t in the booth themselves. With magazines from Europe and the States singing Dengue’s praises, it’s a wonder that things are as calm as they remain. What follows, on the eve of their hundredth party, is a relaxed conversation about being weird in Buenos Aires and the future of Dengue Dancing beyond the dance floor.image

From top to bottom: Ani Castoldi, Luciano Lasca, and Lorenzo “Lolo,” Anzoátegui.

How did you guys decide to throw a party?

Ani: One day, I was coming back from work and and a guy I knew said, ‘I’m going to a reggae bar, you have to go.’ And so I went to the owner like, ‘Hi, I want to do a party.’ And he is all, ‘okay, you have to come to me next Monday.’ You know situations where you don’t know if someone is going to kill you or if it is going to be alright? I was like, ‘what can I do to win them over?’ So I wore a really short skirt, with heels, and went alone and there are these two seven feet tall Nigerian guys. I said, ‘I want to do a party with DJs and with bands on Thursdays.’ They said, ‘let’s try it, but you have to do this every Thursday.’ So I said ‘sure, sure,’ and then ran home to Lolo and said ‘Lolo! Oh my god! I have to do a party every Thursday night.’

Lolo: From the beginning, it was just super-right. With the post-punk and with everything, it got really new wavey. And then all these people started showing up that we didn’t know, that we’d never seen! That’s what I like, people meeting. Not just sexually, just meeting and doing shit together. I’m really, really happy about this.

Luciano: It’s really important to have a space like that, where people actually like the music.

Ani: When we were meeting we were dreaming about Xanadu. And it really happened!

Lolo: Also, it’s something that is affordable to do, too. Something cheap. Not that Dengue is cheap as it used to be, but still. And all the cool kids drink for free.

And it’s good enough that, when people are attracted to it, they’ll come and pay 10 pesos for a beer.

Lolo: We’ve had shouting arguments about alcohol prices, but Gong sets those. They charge a lot of money on weekends, since old men go there with bimbos and shit.

Ani: We really have a good relationship with the owner, but we cannot fight all the time because of the prices. I’m always saying, ‘you don’t understand, everyone is poor! all the people just come to dance.’ And they’re like, ‘for every three people, only one drinks something.’ And we’re like, ‘we don’t care, we just want them there.’

And now, there are plans for a label. When you launch the label, what will you be doing? Remixing the bands, putting out their records, making sure they have more options?

Lolo: All of the above. First, we want to record and produce the albums. We’ve finished the Blue Cherrys album, that’s going to be our first one. There’s Yilet, Domingo. We want to give everyone a wider audience and really make it possible to travel, to tour.

Ani: Also, the people who are now turning 18 were born in the 90s, and they’re starting to make their own bands. And we want to be there to listen to those bands, because the ideas not might be the most sellable ideas, so we just want them to be able to record. And then, people can listen to them, and then maybe it becomes something bigger.

Lolo: 10 years ago, I was living in Barcelona, working for Rough Trade and Moshi Moshi and XL. The year 2000 was really transitional. Rock sucked, electronic music was progressive or really complicated. And what happened in 2001? The Strokes’ first record came out. And the electroclash thing happened as well; that really changed the disco landscape. So this is the year that it’s going to happen internationally, and locally. So we’re looking for those bands born in 1990.

You know that when people see Dengue, they’re often impressed because it seems quite effortlessly cool, right?

Lolo: Yes, we get told that a lot. It’s like, with the BUTT [Magazine] piece, that guy posted on our Facebook and was really over the top and said “there hasn’t been anything like this in Berlin or Paris or New York for YEARS!” And that was the third Dengue. We didn’t quite know what to do. And again, that’s because of something sincere. People come, they’re cool people. Maybe in the future they won’t come, or more will come.

Ani: We have no idea how it happens. Every Dengue, every Thursday, when it’s early and no one is there yet, we think “oh nobody’s coming.”

Lolo: If we went to Dengue and we weren’t doing the party ourselves, we’d be impressed. And have fun. And that was the whole intention! The first thing at Dengue, people went nuts, and we were like, we just wanted to play what we wanted to play. And we didn’t know if people would dance to that, but we knew we would. And that’s the good thing, to find out that you’re not a single raindrop. You’re not alone! It’s about coming back to the community feel of the scene; you need help to concentrate it.

Photos by Kasandra Lunar and Whiskii

Buenos Aires Dispatch: Down and Dirty at Dengue Dancing

Lorenzo “Lolo,” Anzoátegui, Ani Castoldi, and Luciano Lasca have that very elusive, very covetable of qualities: a truly authentic aesthetic. That’s the force that transformed their Buenos Aires-based night, Dengue Dancing, from a delightfully sloppy downtown happening to the only acceptable place to be on Thursdays. The trio was lucky enough to snap up Gong, an 80 year-old disco den, while it was in between junkie and cheto crowds. Everyone from Che Guevara to Jackie Onassis has set foot in this downtown mainstay, and some of the waiters, clad in baby-blue tuxedos and bowties, look like they’ve been down there as long as the Soviet-issue light machine from 1955.

So far, Dengue is that rare and delicate thing: a club night run by friends who don’t hate each other where a bevy of DJs come out to dance to each other’s sets while they aren’t in the booth themselves. With magazines from Europe and the States singing Dengue’s praises, it’s a wonder that things are as calm as they remain. What follows, on the eve of their 100th party, is a relaxed conversation about being weird in Buenos Aires and the future of Dengue beyond the dance floor.

How did you guys decide to throw a party?

Ani: One day, I was coming back from work and and a guy I knew said, ‘I’m going to a reggae bar, you have to go.’ And so I went to the owner like, ‘Hi, I want to do a party.’ And he is all, ‘okay, you have to come to me next Monday.’ You know situations where you don’t know if someone is going to kill you or if it is going to be alright? I was like, ‘what can I do to win them over?’ So I wore a really short skirt, with heels, and went alone and there are these two seven feet tall Nigerian guys. I said, ‘I want to do a party with DJs and with bands on Thursdays.’ They said, ‘let’s try it, but you have to do this every Thursday.’ So I said ‘sure, sure,’ and then ran home to Lolo and said ‘Lolo! Oh my god! I have to do a party every Thursday night.’

Lolo: From the beginning, it was just super-right. With the post-punk and with everything, it got really new-wavey. And then all these people started showing up that we didn’t know, that we’d never seen! That’s what I like, people meeting. Not just sexually, just meeting and doing shit together. I’m really, really happy about this.

Luciano: It’s really important to have a space like that, where people actually like the music.

Ani: When we were meeting we were dreaming about Xanadu. And it really happened!

Lolo: Also, it’s something that is affordable to do, too. Something cheap. Not that Dengue is cheap as it used to be, but still. And all the cool kids drink for free.

And it’s good enough that, when people are attracted to it, they’ll come and pay 10 pesos for a beer.

Lolo: We’ve had shouting arguments about alcohol prices, but Gong sets those. They charge a lot of money on weekends, since old men go there with bimbos and shit.

Ani: We really have a good relationship with the owner, but we cannot fight all the time because of the prices. I’m always saying, ‘you don’t understand, everyone is poor! all the people just come to dance.’ And they’re like, ‘for every three people, only one drinks something.’ And we’re like, ‘we don’t care, we just want them there.’

And now, there are plans for a label. When you launch the label, what will you be doing? Remixing the bands, putting out their records, making sure they have more options?

Lolo: All of the above. First, we want to record and produce the albums. We’ve finished the Blue Cherrys album, that’s going to be our first one. There’s Yilet, Domingo. We want to give everyone a wider audience and really make it possible to travel, to tour.

Ani: Also, the people who are now turning 18 were born in the 90s, and they’re starting to make their own bands. And we want to be there to listen to those bands, because the ideas not might be the most sellable ideas, so we just want them to be able to record. And then, people can listen to them, and then maybe it becomes something bigger.

Lolo: 10 years ago, I was living in Barcelona, working for Rough Trade and Moshi Moshi and XL. The year 2000 was really transitional. Rock sucked, electronic music was progressive or really complicated. And what happened in 2001? The Strokes’ first record came out, and they were like 20, 21, born in the 80s. And the electroclash thing happened as well; that really changed the disco landscape. So this is the year that it’s going to happen internationally, and locally. So we’re looking for those bands born in 1990.

You know that when people see Dengue, they’re often impressed because it seems quite effortlessly cool, right?

Lolo: Yes, we get told that a lot. It’s like, with the BUTT [Magazine] piece, that guy posted on our Facebook and was really over the top and said “there hasn’t been anything like this in Berlin or Paris or New York for YEARS!” And that was the third Dengue. We didn’t quite know what to do. And again, that’s because of something sincere. People come, they’re cool people. Maybe in the future they won’t come, or more will come.

Ani: We have no idea how it happens. Every Dengue, every Thursday, when it’s early and no one is there yet, we think “oh nobody’s coming.”

Lolo: If we went to Dengue and we weren’t doing the party ourselves, we’d be impressed. And have fun. And that was the whole intention! The first thing at Dengue, people went nuts, and we were like, we just wanted to play what we wanted to play. And we didn’t know if people would dance to that, but we knew we would. And that’s the good thing, to find out that you’re not a single raindrop. You’re not alone! It’s about coming back to the community feel of the scene; you need help to concentrate it.

Photos by Kasandra Lunar and Whiskii

Buenos Aires Dispatch: The Summer’s First Arty Midnight Pool Party

While the northern hemisphere dons parkas and heads for cover, it’s heating up down here in Buenos Aires. And besides month-long escapes to the beach, southern hemisphere summer means the opportunity to move parties outdoors. Where better for BlackBook to celebrate the beginning of the season than the latest property from Oasis Collections, a private clubhouse perfectly equipped for riding out the year’s most sweltering months. Consider the Oasis Clubhouse an anti-Isabel: demure swank designed to wow those with more discerning tastes; a spot for people who appreciate some crawling ivy with their grownup play spaces. Plus, there’s a pool.

While a pool, a French DJ, and some free booze would have probably been more than adequate, BlackBook and Oasis decided to get a little bit cultured, especially since it was right around Art Basel time anyway. We called up Daniela Luna of Appetite Gallery and asked her to bring some favorite works to take over the space, making it a poolside downtown type party where artists and suits could co-mingle peacefully. Emerging artists took to the hills of the grassy knoll behind the pool, chain-smoking and giggling under the stars. Well-coiffed internationals traded languages and business cards over full glasses of champagne and generously-poured cocktails. Most attendees made an earnest effort to browse the other art pieces displayed throughout the house, pausing to check out the band hidden in the ping pong room.

After a few rounds, some brave and built porteños dove into the pool for the summer’s inaugural nightswimming. That Appetite cage from ArteBA and its dreamy dancing occupant made another brief appearance, this time outdoors, and somehow mosquitoes left everyone unscathed. While things were over early for local standards, it seemed that everyone who arrived got what they came for, whether it was contacts, a fit starving artist, or an in to go swimming all summer. Don’t miss the chance to partake in future festivities here, BlackBook-related or not.

Photo by Adrien de Bontin

Industry Insiders: Oz Gonzalez, The Mayor of Milion

Actor-turned-restaurateur Osvaldo “Oz” Gonzalez and his partners managed to transform a run-down mansion in Buenos Aires into one of the city’s most distinguished spots to grab drinks (or a foxy Scandinavian). Witty, charming, and well-versed in the city’s art scene, Gonzalez can usually be spotted roaming the building, where he’s apt to know at least half of the clientele at any given moment. In 10 years of Milion—an eternity in a city known for its tumultuous economy—the sprawling Parisian-style mansion has seen decadent attic parties, countless art shows, and live performances by Juana Molina. More on the story of Milion after the jump.

On the beginnings of Milion: I’d been working as an actor for six years, doing TV and theater. There had come a point where I felt I was going to become a public employee on television. When I was almost 40, I said no, and went to work as a cashier at Club 69, which belonged to some friends. Silvina, my business partner, who was a Club 69 partner, calls me on the phone one day and says, ‘Diego has this house, we’d like it if you’d come to work with us.’ I said, ‘No! I’ll be a partner.’ I was living with Carla Peterson, who is an actress friend of mine, and had no money. It’s not like I planned on being a restaurateur at 40. It just happened, and I adore that. This place taught me that freedom doesn’t have to do with money. I didn’t have money. I lived here alone for eight months, when the house was in semi-ruins, and it was fantastic.

On the building’s lengthy history: When we first saw the space everything of value had already been sold and all that was left was the history of the house. There were newspapers from 1913 until 1992, it was like the history of the world. Articles on Nixon and Watergate, travel diaries from the twenties that said, ‘Well I’m in New York, in truth it’s very boring, I’m going to Buenos Aires.’ Wow! What was the world like? New York today and Buenos Aires tomorrow, during the Belle Époque. The other day, someone came in from London. Her grandmother was married to one of the original owners and she’d visited the house as a child. In London, she’d heard about Milion through her friends. When she came in, she realized it was the house she’d come to when she was little.

On the house’s energy: It’s very magical, super powerful. I think the protection that it has with us is because we love it very much. Sounds like a movie about the house that talks, doesn’t it? But it’s got a lot of love. I think it has the energy of having been inhabited by only one family, and it’s rare to find that in Buenos Aires. They’re all remodeled like schools and banks.

On handpicking DJs and musical criteria: There’s Lea Lopatín, Lea is more of a rocker, but I think he has a very elegant touch when it comes to playing music. I met this guy called Monsieur Julien, who sent me a set and I found it so exquisite. You also do things I like, I met you here through friends, you brought me a record. When I play music, I say I’m a musicalizador. Right now, I’m very very crazy with everything that comes from Denmark, Sweden. I hate the term “dance,” and when DJs say “I have dance music.” “Chill-out” is another term I hate. I don’t like playing the dance music typical of the clubs in Miami, those cheap clubs. I detest that. It has nothing to do with the house.

On the resident cat: Emilio’s a mix, a street cat with a Siamese cat. He lives here, he grew up here, he’s loved here. He protects the house. He gets on people, he gets on the bar. He’s the most loved among all the people working here.

On the clientele: Everything good about Milion is love stories. Many people marry here. They fall in love, marry, they have children. Then they split up, but oh well, it’s okay. Milion is very much love, it always was. I have a large gay audience and I have a large foreign audience.There will be a couple of boys holding hands next to an elderly couple. I like to see Finnish women six feet tall at the bar. Europeans die when they see the house because in Europe, there’s no place like this. Because the rent is impossible. It’s incredible what it would cost. The media over there always treated us better than the local media, too.

Favorite spot besides Milion: A club I visited in Prague that was marvelous. It was like an old-fashioned house, I went three times. There were people dressed seductively, and they would sometimes offer you fruit. It was gay, but there were a lot of boys and girls who weren’t. That was great. There was the bar and then you’d move to the next room for dancing, then you’d go and there was a porno movie theater and it had one of those mazes that lights up. The name is indecipherable. It’s like Cjwklskzyk, I swear. I want to look it up, but it’s a whole lot of consonants all together.

Other pursuits: Apart from Milion, I’m making a project with pornographic photos.

Translated by Christine-Marie Andrieu Photo by Oz Gonzalez

The Top 5 Closed-Door Restaurants in Buenos Aires

Unlike the States, where pesky codes and laws interrupt the dreams of gourmets with culinary skills but no official space, Buenos Aires and its bribe-friendly approach to these matters means that anyone who wants to can give restauranteering a shot. A wet dream for chefs, foodies, and trend-piece writers, puerta cerradas offers a different sort of dining experience focused on elaborate menus and more attentive service. Whether it’s a less wussy approach to spices, savory Italian fare, or a full-on feast, many of the city’s closed-door restaurants provide a tasty alternative to Palermo’s latest fusion misstep. In case you can’t possibly swallow another steak, here are the city’s five best closed-door restaurants, reservations definitely required in advance.

Casa Felix. Well-known Chacarita puerta cerrada that deserves all the good press it gets. New York Times-approved and vegetarian-friendly, this closed-door restaurant is run by a dreamy and socially adept husband-wife team. This means no awkward theme nights or halting conversation, just a delicious five-course meal with some free booze to start the evening.

Cocina Sunae. Korean-American female chef whips up some of the city’s freshest Southeast Asian dishes in a cozy Colegiales apartment. Relaxed dinners outside of the steak and malbec tradition a great alternative to pricier Barrio Chino fare. Her spicy and authentic dishes have even managed to attract ambassadors—fancy!

Scenna&Santella. Gregarious and charming Porteno-Yankee duo skilled in the art of Italian cuisine, atmosphere-crafting. Rather than weekly dinners, they focus on monthly meals beloved by both visitors and locals. Five-course affairs are demure and delicious, while 50-peso gourmet pizza nights feature a strong-armed, well-dressed waitstaff slinging pies to hungry-looking models and local scenesters.

Mis Raices. The oldest closed-door restaurant in the city actually opened its doors a quarter-century ago, beating everyone else on this list by at least a decade. Run by the sweetest Jewish grandmother in town, whose take on traditional cuisine is delicious and decadent. Fasting the day-of is recommended, lest you not finish all that’s on your plate. If a 10 o’clock dinner is too late for your own grandmother, make reservations for lunch on a Sunday instead.

La Cocina Discreta. Local bohemian couple opens their Villa Crespo digs for dinner on Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. Mix of traditional staples and international flourishes manages to stay on the right side of fusion cuisine, while space for only 18 means that no matter what, your dinner will be intimate. Three-course menu and wine selection slightly more formal without wandering into froufrou territory.

Top 10 Spots to Watch the World Cup in Buenos Aires

It’s no secret that Argentines really, really love football—almost as much as tourists visiting Buenos Aires love beef and tango. Whether trotting halfway across the world to follow their beloved team or skipping out on work to hit the bar down the street, watching matches is serious business. Even those who aren’t particularly into Messi-worship know not to miss a month’s worth of opportunities. This fervor for football means that when you visit Buenos Aires, you don’t have to hit up the local faux-English sports bar to catch the games. Practically every spot in town—from froufrou Palermo bars to grocery stores—has managed to drag in a television. Whether you’re cheering on the local boys or secretly hoping you won’t be subjected to Maradona’s naked victory romp, here are the best spots to watch the World Cup in the Paris of South America.

El Gallego. Get saucy insider information and the entire history of football in Argentina from the in-the-know retirees who make this old-school bar their second home.

Gibraltar. For those seeking a crowd of enthusiastic first-generation illegal immigrants to watch the game with, this San Telmo pub pulls them in by the dozens. Huddle up with expats, tourists, and the locals who love them.

Parque Centenario Amiptheatre. Two gigantic screens offer the chance to watch the game outdoors at a safe distance from the perpetual clusterfuck of the microcentro.

Lobby Wine Bar. An option for those looking to sip on some fine Patagonian Pinot Noir and nibble cheese while rooting for the boys, tucked safely away from the howling and sobbing.

Calle Florida. This pedestrian-only street features rows upon rows of television sets in the windows of various electronics stores, all set to the game. The best place to get your pocket picked while watching the action.

Bar 6. For those who cannot be bothered to turn off their laptops while watching the game, Bar 6 offers the best possible vantage point. All the yuppie trappings you need, plus a large flatscreen television.

Antares. Quilmes might have the market cornered on tear-inducing football ads, but their beer kind of stinks. Those with more discerning taste buds will appreciate the chance to sip microbrews here instead while watching the game.

La Mezzetta. This legendary Colegiales pizza joint doesn’t have a place to sit, but for some of the most colorful commentary on the games, the standing-room only approach works just fine.

1986 Lounge Bar. What better setting to watch another potential World Cup win than a bar named for the year the Argentine hustle was rewarded with the Hand of God goal? Big screens, mostly locals, and a whole lot of screaming guaranteed.

Plaza San Martin. Gather here with the huddled, shivering masses to catch the matches on the biggest LED screens in the city. Spacious nearby tent for the festivities includes a place to deposit your children, as well as a fan corner where you can send digital love letters to your favorite national team players.

The Young Ones: ArteBA’s Barrio Joven

The biggest weekend of art in Buenos Aires and all of South America, ArteBA officially began Thursday night with its invitation-only opening party, which was preceded by two nights of other more intimate festivities. While it felt slightly less packed than last year, there were more than enough well-to-do patrons of the arts rubbing shoulders with imported skateboarders and a couple of statuesque drag queens. A myriad of galleries from South America had work from the usual big names–Marcos Lopez, Nicola Costantino, Romulo Maccio–but this year, emerging artists and galleries enjoyed a far larger chunk of space on the floor.

While the Chandon flowed freely (but doesn’t it always?), hordes of ArteBA opening night guests headed straight for Barrio Joven, where 19 galleries from all over South America held their own next to the larger, more established spaces. An area for showcasing independent galleries and emerging artists, Barrio Joven managed to infuse some legitimate excitement amongst all the hobnobbing. Santiago’s Galeria Trafix and Espacio Lugar booths were packed with demure older Argies and young hipsters the whole night through, and works from Mexico City, Caracas, and Mendoza were equally well-received.

The young Buenos Aires art scene was also well-represented in Barrio Joven. Chez Vautier, Miau Maui, Mite, and Munguau were all showing their favorite promising young talent, with gallery owners enthusiastically talking up clientele to the sounds of skateboard decks crashing on the half pipe. In the background, a gigantic mobile of Converse sneakers managed to outdo even Chandon for product placement.

Around the corner from Barrio Joven, the godmother of all emerging art in Buenos Aires enjoyed its new position as elder statesman. Now in its fifth year at ArteBA, Appetite attracted visitors with its flashy sign and human-size bird cage. Expat performance artist Tranqui Yanqui engaged children and tipsy adults alike with his interactive neon ATM. Appetite owner Daniela Luna promised her booth will continue bringing the party to ArteBA after opening night with live cage dancing. As the obligatory art-viewing portion of the evening wrapped up, all the scruffy youngsters were making plans to head to the numerous post-opening-party parties while impatiently texting their dealers.

Industry Insiders: Gaby and Martin Modex, The Hardest Working DJs in Buenos Aires

On starting out as a band: MM: We met 10 years ago, more or less. Through friends in a different band, but then we started to make music together. Modex is five years old. GM: We have one LP, one EP, and the remix album. The first tour, we went to the UK, Scotland, London, Europe, Berlin, and Barcelona. We’ve been to Europe three times. And also Russia. Moscow, St. Petersburg. MM: We’ve played in Chile four times. In Mexico, too. In Tijuana, it was a crazy, crazy time. And of course, in Argentina.

On getting from Argentina to Europe and Moscow: GM: The first time, we paid our tickets to Europe. And then the second time, we went with our tickets paid for us. So it was a good connection made the first time. Our first EP was out in Europe on PIAS, the label that started with Front 242 and now they have Felix the Housecat and Tiga. Because of that, we went to Russia.

On their favorite places to play in Buenos Aires and beyond: GM: I like house parties the most. Or parties in general. For me, it’s not so much the club, but the party. Julio Fernandez’s Creme de la Creme parties in Voodoo and Kika are great. MM: We like Undertones. And Tsunami Party, too. Parties that we still go to, even when we don’t play. Also, Club Evol in Liverpool. It has two floors. It was like a dream, that bar. The sound, the people. It was great. Ladytron hosted us. GM: In Europe, Mondo in Madrid. Razzmatazz and Fellini in Barcelona. Barcelona has a lot of places. We like Barcelona. Moscow was extremely cool. But playing in Liverpool, that was something. I am playing in Liverpool! The Beatles! I can’t believe it. And the people liked it very much. And that was our first time in Europe, and we were with Klaxons.

On the beginning of their DJing days: GM: We started for fun, and now it’s another part of Modex. We always did it, but now we do it a lot. Usually for our DJ sets, we play some remixes of our own songs, too. When we DJ, we change our style a little. We like to make people dance like crazy!

On other DJs: GM: I don’t have problems with them, because they’re not musicians! For DJing, there’s good taste, and there’s timing.

On the bands that made them want to play music: GM: Gang of Four, Devo, the Fall. PiL. Siouxie and the Banshees. The Rolling Stones, Let it Bleed, Sticky Fingers, Exile on Main Street. MM: The Cure! The Velvet Underground. The Kinks. The Clash. GM: Also, The Stooges. MC5. Suicide. The Talking Heads. Richard Hell and the Voidoids. And The Slits! And X Ray Spex. MM: I think PiL and Gang of Four are very close to what we sound like.

On how seriously they take shopping for records: GM: When we travel, we go to the record store and ask, ‘do you have something like this?’ And we listen to them. MM: We love buying records. We are like kids with toys. GM: We went to the market in Mexico and and I passed by an old woman who had a blanket with records, other things, just a bunch of everything. I saw something yellow, and it was the first B-52s record. I’d been searching for it since I went to Europe, but I couldn’t find it anywhere. So there it was! I was so excited. MM: An hour later… GM: An hour later, I’m getting robbed. They took my wallet, they took my money, but I kept my record!

Photo Credit: Juliana Boragina