incohero

Brian Carr/The Pan American
AMBITION - Despite having several gigs cancelled, local band Incohero plays on, knowing their big break will one day come.
Carlos Cantu orders a Budweiser and a shot of tequila. He leans back into the wooden stall. He points to a sticker. It’s in Olde English script. It’s black and white. It simply says Incohero.

“You can tell I’ve been here before,” Cantu says.

The Skhean Dhu hardly seems like the birth place of a punk rock band. It’s small, littered with aging alcoholics and red-plaid carpet climbs from the floor to the walls. The jukebox is filled with country and western. The sign out front says ‘Scottish Pub.’

But this was the site of the band’s first gig last September.

“It was basically an open mic,” Cantu explains. “But we passed around a tip jar and got like $60.”

In the year that has followed Incohero has worked towards formulating an incredibly raucous sound. Drawing influences from all genres, yet staying firmly grounded in guitar-driven pop, the four-piece has developed a bare-bones yet intimate delivery.

They can be compared to the indie output of the Northwest such as Built to Spill and Modest Mouse. But where many of those bands cling toward a mood more shoe-gaze than rock, Incohero tends towards a much quicker tempo. Cantu’s lyrics, on the other hand, tend to be dark, tender and brilliant.

The band congregates in the Skhean Dhu corner. Drummer Judas Tanguma, who doubles as the band’s producer, explains his approach to recording. Bassist Dave Ramirez-Spyker talks about his hopes of bringing key boards into the sound.

They take turns giving each other compliments. And they keep the night in perspective. Tomorrow they have band practice.

ALTER EGOS
Tanguma unlocks the door before there is a chance to knock. His daughters are sleeping in another room. The house is quiet. Tanguma speaks in whispers. He leads us through the living room and into the kitchen. Cantu is the only other member of Incohero that has arrived for practice. He opens the fridge and grabs a Bud Light tall boy from the top shelf. Then he grabs a can of Tecate from a plastic bag.

We step from the kitchen into an adjacent room with gray walls. The room is small - the size of a Volkswagen. It is not air conditioned and the blistering Valley heat has found its way inside. There is musical equipment everywhere. Amps sit upon PA speakers. Guitars hang from the walls. A drum set is nestled into a corner of the room. Tanguma takes a seat behind this kit. An oscillating fan rotates beside him. It provides the only refreshing air in the practice space.

This is the room where the founding members of Incohero cut their insatiable EP “Demented and Sad, Yet Social” last May. Cantu straps on his guitar and starts running through the band’s newest song.

Tanguma picks up his sticks and charges at his crash and snare. The song is naked, catchy and spontaneous. This is the basic brilliant formula that Incohero is known for.

All three founding members of Incohero grew up in Mission. They also all moved away at a point in time.

“Everybody hates it at first,” Tanguma jokes from behind his drum set. “[The Valley’s] only good the second time around.”

They all knew each other growing up. They weren’t always friends.

In high school Cantu and Tanguma played in what they refer to as “rival” bands. For a period of time Cantu lived with the misconception that Tanguma had pilfered a microphone from Cantu after a gig.

But mutual friend Dave Ramirez-Spyker, who now plays bass for Incohero, brought the two together for what has become one of the Valley’s best young bands.

Incohero is a paradox. It is a band of juxtapositions and ironies. From its posture to its style, from its inception to its makeup, they leave you scratching your head happily.

Cantu admits that the band’s name is a manifestation of this phenomenon.

“I had the idea back in Austin,” the singer/song writer says. “Incohero – a guy that messes up but that you want to win.”

It’s an alter ego for the University of Texas-Pan American graduate student. Cantu is studying Mexican American History. After practice he’s going to a border-wall protest. At the moment his eyes are closed and his arms and fingers are flailing. The two present Incohero members run through “Bottles” – a steady climber that glimpses the life, love and confusion of a mild-mannered alcoholic.

During the warm up bassist Ramirez-Spyker appears. He tunes up, plugs in and begins hammering out low grueling eighth notes.

Later newly-added guitarist Joel West will arrive. Then the band will run through their entire portfolio.

SCORCHED
Incohero faces the hurdle that most Valley bands succumb to –an unsupportive scene. Last year two of McAllen’s best venues for original live music folded. RIP Art Awakenings. RIP Hookah Bar.

This unsupportive trend was mirrored in the bands recent removal from the Scorcher 8 bill at the Dodge Arena. It was to be the band’s biggest performance to date.

To free up time for a tribute band devoted to paying homage to the rock band KISS through the art of live performance.

Incohero know that they will have to seek out friendly road venues if they are to sustain a regular gig schedule. But they know they have to be a well received local act before they can grow their fan base regionally.

“We’re definitely looking into getting out to San Antonio and Corpus,” drummer Tanguma said. “But that’s a few months off.”

For the time being Incohero will focus on their Valley wide-schedule. On September 11 they will be at Simon Sez in McAllen. They have subsequent gigs in both Harlingen and Brownsville.

“It’s a good start,” Cantu says.

If Valley residents are smart they will show up and support them. - The Pan American