Bay Area Beats

Meet some of the drummers, dancers, rappers and dj’s dedicated to maintaining THE BAY’s cultural heartbeat, no matter the obstacles.

Full transcript below

Shereen Marisol Meraji: You’re listening to Northgate Radio, a podcast and radio show produced and reported by the students at UC Berkeley’s Graduate School of Journalism. I’m your host and head of the audio program, Shereen Marisol Meraji. And today, you’re going to hear from three of my advanced audio students. They came to the J School with little to no experience in audio storytelling, and in just three semesters, they’re reporting, recording, editing, and mixing their very own broadcast quality work.

The theme of this show is Bay Area Beats. We’re going to meet some of the drummers, dancers, rappers, and DJs dedicated to maintaining the Bay’s cultural heartbeat, no matter the obstacles. First, we’re headed to San Francisco’s Mission District to meet an Afro Brazilian inspired drum and dance ensemble that’s been going strong for 35 years.

If you’ve been to Carnaval, held every May in San Francisco, guaranteed you’ve seen them dancing through the mission and captivating costumes to the beat of the most infectious rhythms. Northgate reporter Amaray Alvarez introduces us to Fogo Na Roupa, a San Francisco institution where just about anyone can learn to dance and sing.

or drum or both. But most importantly, Amaray found in her reporting that Fogo Na Roupa is a community where connections are made that can last a lifetime.

Amaray Alvarez: It’s Tuesday night at the Mission Cultural Center for Latino Arts. Some 60 Fogo Na Roupa members are dancing and drumming, and this looks like the hottest place in town.

In fact, their name Fog Na Roupa translates to clothes on fire in Portuguese and watching the drummer’s hands move at lightning speed and the dancers drip with sweat. I can see just how they got their name. I think I’m one of the new ones. That’s Laura Prince McGee. She’s 48 and a resident of the mission.

She’s surrounded by moms and kids who have been coming here for generations.

Laura Prince-McGee: I’ve only been here for about seven years.

Amaray Alvarez: That makes Laura the new kid. She’s one of the few members that dances and drums with FOGO, and she’s known about them for a long time.

Laura Prince-McGee: I had danced in carnivals since 2010.

Amaray Alvarez: And she vividly remembers seeing the FOGO dancers.

They really stand out. Last year, there were over 400 dancers and drummers all parading together. But back in 2010, performing in Carnaval led her to FOGO.

Laura Prince-McGee: At the end of Carnaval, we always wanted to find FOGO. No matter what group you are, you want to go find the FOGO drums, and you want to jam with FOGO, you want to dance with the drummers.

I just started coming, and I just felt the love from the community.

Amaray Alvarez: Love. That’s the word most members use to describe FOGO. They say it’s more than just a group. It’s a safe space.

Lucia Ramos: The thing about Fogo is it’s church.

Amaray Alvarez: That’s Lucia Ramos. She goes by Lucy. She’s 41 and a therapist in the mission.

Lucia Ramos: We all have those hard days where you’re like, um, maybe I’m gonna stay.

But my spirit feels so good that it’s worth it.

Amaray Alvarez: Fogo started in the Bay Area in 1989. And José Rivera, well, he was there almost from the start.

Jose Rivera: I feel like I’m always a student.

Amaray Alvarez: José is a drummer, and when his friend told him about Fogo, he wasn’t sure about joining. But one evening, he went to a class and immediately fell at home.

Jose Rivera: My thing was like, I just want to drum.

They were like, yeah, come over and play. That’s the kind of environment that kept me to be in the groove.

Amaray Alvarez: José says a big part of why he felt so welcomed was because of Carlos Aceituno, the founder of Fogo na Ropa. Aceituno was born in Guatemala and immigrated to the Bay Area as a teenager. His first love was Capoeira, and so he visited Brazil every year and took students with him.

In 2000, he became the first person outside of Brazil to earn the title of Master Partitioner of Capoeira. From Capoeira, he got into dance, but what everyone remembers most about Carlos is he had a lot of wisdom.

Jose Rivera: We were talking on the phone for a long time, and I’m like, Dude, you’re not even my girlfriend.

Why am I talking to you for a long time?

Amaray Alvarez: About a decade after Jose joined, Metzi Henriquez wandered into Fogo Na Roupa. She’d just graduated from high school, and a friend from her Capoeira class told her to check it out.

Metzi Henriquez: When I saw them and I felt them, it was just addicting.

Amaray Alvarez: Metzi says Carlos created a vibe that was electric and welcoming.

Carlos made a place where immigrants, regardless of their background, could gather.

Metzi Henriquez: Carlos, I can’t even begin to express what a special person this man was, like, really as a human.

Amaray Alvarez: Carlos guided Metzi in her dancing, but also in life.

Metzi Henriquez: I would just listen to him talk and I’d be like, damn, like, he’s really, he’s giving me some special stuff.

Amaray Alvarez: He created a community. Carlos would throw parties that would go all night. And between the parties and classes, Metsi and Jose were spending all of their time together.

Jose Rivera: Metsi’s so beautiful, and at the time she had short hair, and I’m like, oh man, she’s really pretty.

Amaray Alvarez: They instantly connected.

Metzi Henriquez: And then Jose was always there, and he was fun to dance with, and he was respectful.

He loved drumming so much, and I loved dancing so much.

Amaray Alvarez: Jose’s love of drumming, Metsi’s love of dancing, turned into a love for each other. They were young and having fun in Fogo, in Fogo. But suddenly, bad news hit about Carlos.

Jose Rivera: I had spoken to him the day before that he wasn’t feeling well. And I said, OK, so I’ll see you tomorrow.

And then after that, I received a phone call and he is gone.

Amaray Alvarez: That was in 2006. Jose and Metzi were still in shock.

Metzi Henriquez: But when his father asked us to keep his son alive, it just touched my heart.

Amaray Alvarez: Carlos family asked them to take over FOGO. It’s a big ask, and they didn’t know where their future was headed. But they said yes.

Metzi Henriquez: I remember coming to class and teaching for me when he was gone was horrible.

Amaray Alvarez: She remembers thinking,

Metzi Henriquez: How do I channel him being here so that I stay true to what he was teaching and what his intention was?

Amaray Alvarez: They decided to uphold Carlos legacy together, Jose teaching drums and Metzi the dancing. The two were inseparable, and in 2009, they married.

Besides teaching Fogo, Metsi was working as a therapist and about to start a family. She says juggling life and the group was challenging at first.

Metzi Henriquez: For me, motherhood was a blessing, beautiful, and also really hard because I don’t remember seeing kids or ever having seen a dance teacher like Teach pregnant,

Amaray Alvarez: but Metzi decided to be an example and she continued to teach through her pregnancy.

Metzi Henriquez: All of my kids have always been around since they were in my belly. We taught full classes.

Amaray Alvarez: She wants her children to experience Fogo just like she has.

Tlali: Hello, my name is Tlali and I’m from Ropa and I have been dancing,

Amaray Alvarez: that’s Tlali met and Jose’s youngest daughter. She’s five. They now have three children.

Parents and children all dancing, drumming, and singing together is what makes the group special. Lucy, the dancer we heard from earlier, says Jose and Metzi have become role models for the group.

Lucia Ramos: When you see Metzi and Jose and how, like, their family’s growing up within Fogo, you’re like, oh, how beautiful.

I want that too.

Amaray Alvarez: At class Saturday morning, Tlali was there, dancing and playing with other children. One mother even danced with her child strapped to her chest.

Metzi Henriquez: I feel so proud to be part of a community that is so giving and just exudes the energy of fire. It just completely takes over. It just pumps me up as if it was the first time that I’ve ever seen it.

Amaray Alvarez: Metzi and Jose have kept the group going through all types of obstacles. Most recently, the COVID 19 pandemic, when they had to hold classes outside and on Zoom. Today, however, Fogo is facing a new challenge. The city says they might have to vacate the building while it is retrofitted.

Jose Rivera: If this place closes, a lot of culture here in the community will kind of, I don’t want to say vanish, but it’s going to hurt.

Amaray Alvarez: Some members are worried that the city might just condemn the building, and Fogo might not be able to return to the heart of their community.

Jose Rivera: This is our home. This is what Carlo would teach.

Amaray Alvarez: Metzi and Jose have a plan, though. If and when they have to leave, they have made arrangements for Fogo to stay in the mission.

Metzi Henriquez: We want to be here. This is where the magic happens.

Amaray Alvarez: Until then, Fogo will continue doing what they’ve been doing for the past 35 years.

Their recent performance was during a Dia de los Muertos celebration. It turned into one big party outside the cultural center. Fogo drummers arrived with their faces painted in calavera makeup. They drummed for two hours in front of a huge crowd.

The music echoed in the streets and dancers called people over to join in the fun. All of the partying eventually led to police closing the street so everyone could keep dancing. The music and dancing brought everyone together during a holiday that honors death and can be lonely. After the event, I spoke with Spencer Smith.

He’s 19 and a FOGO drummer. He says he met Jose in middle school when he came to drum.

Spencer Smith: I remember my first time parading with FOGO. It was crazy because I realized that I was in the parade. and the people on the outside came to see us perform.

Amaray Alvarez: Laura, the FOGO member we heard from earlier, says Metsi and Jose are keeping the FOGO tradition alive.

Laura Prince-McGee: It always feels like Carlos is the spirit of Fogo. And Metzi and Jose are our leaders and they’re just, they’re the heartbeat of everything that happens here.

Amaray Alvarez: She says they really created a family. And that’s how she describes Fogo.

Laura Prince-McGee: Definitely, like, it’s a family.

Amaray Alvarez: Reporting for Northgate Radio, I’m Amaray Alvarez.

Shereen Marisol Meraji: Now let’s jump on the Bay Bridge or hop on BART so we can spend some time on Telegraph Avenue in Berkeley with Northgate reporter Royvi. Hernandez and underground rapper and visual artist Señor Gigio. We’re listening to his single, Bay Area Blue, which dropped this week.

[That’s what they be saying, excuses be the cliché. Or am I the one who’s different?]

Señor gigio’s ode to the bay speaks to the sadness and to the resentment that lots of locals feel about how this region has changed.

Señor Gigio: I’m Bay Area blue, blue,

blue.

Royvi Hernandez: That’s Señor Gigio, and we’re walking down Telegraph Avenue near UC Berkeley. He has a goatee and is wearing a black hat. It signals nonconformist. As we walk past empty storefronts, Senor Gigio tells me that you can see Bay Area Blue throughout the street.

Damon Hunter: At one point, like, this whole street would just be all street vendors.

Now it’s just a lot of kind of like the last few old timers who are hanging on, doing that.

Royvi Hernandez: Damon Hunter is one of those old timers. He’s standing at a table full of hand crafted art, and behind him there’s a sign reading, Bird Dude. As a bird lover myself, I had to ask. What is the bird dude? Is that your nickname?

Damon Hunter: If you don’t give yourself a name, other people will. I’ve been feeding the pigeons for about four years.

Royvi Hernandez: Hunter says he’s been a street vendor on Telegraph for 34 years. He says back in the day

Damon Hunter: The first two blocks were completely full. And that was on the weekdays. And to get a good spot on the weekends, you know, you had to actually show up in the morning and compete with the other vendors.

Now, what do we have? Less than a dozen of us out on a Friday because People don’t come anymore.

[ Same game new players still faking, old lot no buyers still vacant, cheap food no good expensive prices, no chill gentrified ghetto paradises. I remember when the love was everywhere, you know it was peace when you smell that bud in the air,]

Royvi Hernandez: You don’t really smell that butt up in the air anymore. And Gigio says he misses the smell of his favorite burrito joint or his favorite pizza spot.

Señor Gigio: And this used to be the fat slice, which was like iconic

Royvi Hernandez: in its place now, is the Bagel Street cafe.

Gigio was raised in Fairfield, but like a lot of teens in the bay when he was growing up. He spent a lot of time on Telegraph and eating fat sliced pizza.

Señor Gigio: Telegraph has been, uh, like a mecca for culture and for young people for a long time, even before I started getting a handle on my life. Like I was coming over here, getting pizza, going to the record stores and, you know, meeting strangers and, and striking conversations, smoking weed.

Royvi Hernandez: Across the street is a bus with an Ahn Fong advertisement wrapped on the exterior. In his music video of Bay Area Blues, Senor Gigio is singing in front of the attorney’s billboard. You know, those billboards where she has her arms crossed.

Señor Gigio: I thought that it would be a great opportunity to do my play on her slogan.

Is something wrong? Call Ahn Fong. This one is just, something is wrong.

Royvi Hernandez: [Tall boots, ain’t even got no workers in them. Now I guess, my money goes straight to the system. Was a little cooler when someone was there to crack a smile. But I suppose I’ll save these tears fora crocadile] we’re coming up to Amoeba Music on the corner of Telegraph and Hay Street, we run into a couple of Gigio’s friends.

Billy Jam: Thats weird I thought I just filled it up.

Royvi Hernandez: That’s Billy Jam. He loves hip hop and is a fan of Senor Gigio. He’s also an Oakland Athletics fan. And Billy Jam says he’s definitely feeling the Bay Area blue.

Billy Jam: I mean, and today too, the A’s, the final day of the A’s. Just the shared feeling, a vibe that I have too, like I just feel like what the hell happened to my Bay Area?

Uthman Sabir: I used to go to Oakland Raiders games, I used to go to A’s game, my dad, I was a kid, like those are childhood memories that I wanted to be able to do that with my kids and I can’t even be able to do that anymore.

Royvi Hernandez: That’s Uthman Sabir. He worked at a Trader Joe’s in El Cerrito Plaza, where Gigio shops, and he became a fan.

In fact, he’s wearing a Senor Gigio shirt.

Uthman Sabir: It’s kind of like one of those songs that like touches the soul because it talks about what we used to have in the Bay Area.

Señor Gigio: [San Francisco is a dream, that’s what they selling me. It’s so appealing, feel it stealing all your energy. ]

Royvi Hernandez: Gigio says he recorded Bay Area Blue in 2022 with his producer AquaVision, and then they sat on it for two years.

Señor Gigio: I was concerned that maybe I might offend people or that some people might be ticked off about it, but it’s, it’s been the opposite. That, for me, has been very humbling and healing for me.

Royvi Hernandez: Walking Down Telegraph brings Gigio back to his teenage years.

Señor Gigio: Okay, so we’re in front of the, uh, Cali’s, uh, Sports bar and kitchen.

Back in the day, it was Blake’s.

Royvi Hernandez: That’s where Gigio. and his friends play their first gig, and he remembers musicians busking on the street. But when he walks down Telegraph these days, he feels the energy isn’t the same as it used to be back then. Instead of bookstores that line the streets, there are dozens of boba spots.

Gigio. asks, why do we need so many boba shops?

Señor Gigio: The way I see it turning, it’s becoming very, very homogenized where it’s only about cheap food because it kind of looks to me like they’re trying to turn the place into kind of like a little 15 minute city for the students.

Royvi Hernandez: Okay, let’s head over to People’s Park.

Señor Gigio: Yeah, well, we’re looking at the, um, the unsightly takeover of People’s Park, the historic landmark. The cultural landmark.

Royvi Hernandez: He’s talking about the 17 foot wall of shipping containers blocking off the park.

Señor Gigio: It’s depressing.

Royvi Hernandez: People’s Park is a nearly three acre plot of land that was once the epicenter of the global counterculture movement and the site of the first major anti war demonstration of the 60s.

Archival Peoples Park Speech: Because the people who live in Berkeley have friends outside of Berkeley and they can’t understand why those people are put under curfew.

Royvi Hernandez: Gigio says back in the day, it was home to cultural events, like an underground hip hop festival.

Señor Gigio: It was close to probably two decades of hip hop in the park yearly. They did it around May.

I got to host it and perform, uh, 2011.

Royvi Hernandez: It was his first big gig as a solo artist. Those memories are now forever locked inside.

Señor Gigio: They’ve got, like, well, these are like shipping containers, and they just stacked them.

Hang my soul on the wall inside of a gallery, And lock the vault with the photos of my memories.

CHUCK D’s show audio: [Ready, I’m ready to go. And one of the great minds of the Bay, Senor Gigio, is back with his new single that’s described as a new wave hip hop soul anthem for the Bay Area.]

Royvi Hernandez: Bay Area Blue is about the Bay, but it’s a feeling that resonates with artists in cities across America. And Chuck D, formerly part of the group Public Enemy, picked it up for his rap station in New York. Gigio was thrilled to be picked up by his idol. He says Public Enemy is one of his biggest influences as an artist.

Señor Gigio: They were really good at telling the story. Through the journey where they build it up to where it’s a whole experience, you know It’s not just all in your face all at once like you have a lot to to chew and digest

Royvi Hernandez: Gigio is trying to do the same thing with Bay Area blue take you on his emotional journey and Listening to the song you could draw the conclusion that the next path of Gigio’s journey is to leave the Bay if the Bay isn’t The same why can’t you go to another place?

Señor Gigio: Yikes. I mean,

Royvi Hernandez: it’s obvious. It’s a question he’s never pondered.

Señor Gigio: The Bay can’t be recreated anywhere. We’re a one of a kind place, a one of a kind history, and all of the things make it what it is.

Royvi Hernandez: Gigio says Bay Area Blue isn’t a goodbye song. It’s a song that grieves a bygone era.

Señor Gigio: I mean, that’s been huge for me.

Um, the healing to be able to express, um, sadness. The healing to be able to cry. You know, the healing to be able to like, lament what we lost.

Royvi Hernandez: It’s impossible to move forward without acknowledging one’s grief. The next step is wiping our collective tears and creating a better Bay. From Berkeley, I’m Roy B. Hernandez.

Shereen Marisol Meraji: What better way to shake off your Bay Area blues than sweating on the dance floor in Oakland to some house music? House recently turned 40.

Yep, the genre is officially middle aged, which is the perfect time to reflect on where it’s going and where it’s been. Northgate Radio’s Audy McAfee reports on an Oakland based DJ collective who wants partygoers to understand that house music

Audy McAfee: A new DJ collective, known as A Party Called Silk, has been throwing house music centered parties in the Bay since June of 2024, in an attempt to remind people of its Black origins.

Malik Bay, also known as DJ Kilo, is one of the co founders of Silk, and he says for him, house music feels like, well, home.

Malik Bey: It’s like you waking up, you know, your mom’s already dancing around the crib, she’s cleaning the crib. Like a really good warm Sunday, like the sunlight’s beaming through the windows, like everyone in the house is happy.

Audy McAfee: Kilo was DJing a set in San Francisco, and that’s where he met his counterpart, Sean Miles, also known as DJ Lefty. Lefty says house music is euphoric.

Sean Myles: It’s an infectious rhythm that you can’t help but, like, feel through your entire body. It’s, like, naturally the tempo that, uh, your heartbeat beats at when you run.

Audy McAfee: House music is typically played between 115 to 130 beats per minute, and a runner’s average heart rate falls between 100 to 160 beats per minute, according to AdventHealth. The genre takes popular songs and makes them into something completely new. Take My Humps by the Black Eyed Peas.

Now, let’s do a house remix of the same song done by Joshua and Lee Foss.

You feel that beat? That rhythm in your bones? No? Well, you can’t tell me it doesn’t make you at least want to bob your head. Anyways, that’s house music. The subgenre of electronic dance music started in the Chicago underground club scene in the late 70s and 80s. It is usually made with synthesizers, drum machines, as well as other electronic instruments.

For Lefty, house music has always been black music.

Sean Myles: Black folks love to dance. And this is dance music. It goes hand in hand.

Audy McAfee: House aficionados say the music’s godfather is a black queer DJ named Frankie Knuckles. In 1977, Frankie gained his reputation at a club in Chicago called The Warehouse, a space for queer black men.

We’re listening to Your Love, one of Frankie’s most famous tracks.

Kilo says initially house music wasn’t very popular. But the warehouse gave it international life.

Malik Bey: They would experiment and make and cut new tracks at the warehouse to make a quick dollar. They would give it to an agent, would then sell it nationwide.

Audy McAfee: The sound would eventually make its way to Europe, where DJs added their own flavor.

Eurodance was born and became very popular.

But as house was gaining traction in Europe, it was slipping in the United States. DJ Kilo says this was a result of the culture and timing.

Malik Bey: Hip hop was coming out, R& B was like super trending, and I feel like it kind of got lost. Like, we were finding that good feeling, that good, like, feeling in R& B and hip hop.

And, you know, they were doing that in Europe with house music.

Audy McAfee: Kilo says ultimately his passion for advocating for playing more house music amongst black DJs and the black community really stuck after someone came up to him after a set and asked him to stop playing that unce unce music because it was for white people.

Malik Bey: It still resonates in my head like every single day. And I’m just like, we want to shift the culture to a point where it’s like, it’s not Unce Unce music. It’s like, oh, you played that Moody Man.

Oh, actually, you just played some new New Nia Archives

oh, you played that Kaytranada.

Audy McAfee: Kilo just name checked three Black House DJs to make his point. And Lefty told me the spark of his love for house music ignited when he saw Kaytranada play at Coachella in 2017.

Sean Myles: Kaytranada was in the Sahara tent. Sun’s going down. That was my first time really feeling, like, that kind of bounce. with like 30, 000 other people, you know, and it’s hurt me out.

Audy McAfee: In the recent decade, house music has been reintroduced to the Black community with artists like Beyonce’s album, Renaissance.

Or Drake’s album, Honestly, Nevermind.

But Lefty and Kilo told me that the nightlife goers in Oakland are still skeptical. The duo says they don’t remember exactly how the conversation came up, but that they always talked about how there were no black house DJs in Oakland.

Malik Bey: That was like really frustrating for us because it was like in San Francisco, we play house music.

People are like, Oh my God, you’re the best DJ ever. As soon as we go to Oakland and we play house music, they’re just like, what was that? Or like, why did, why didn’t you play top 40?

Audy McAfee: This is why Kilo and Lefty decided that the parties they would throw would only showcase black DJs. They also make it a point to make sure they have black female DJs as a part of their sets too, as they tend to be overlooked and underplayed.

It took Silk about six months from the time they first started throwing parties in the Bay to organize their first one in Oakland. The logistics were harder than they anticipated, but they persevered.

You’re listening to their second to last event from 2024. They threw it at Crybaby in Uptown Oakland. A full circle experience because a larger than life mural of the warehouse hovers over the club. A physical reminder of house music’s history. The dance floor was packed and it was a joyful community experience.

Iris Lopez came to support. She says it’s liberating to love something that isn’t mainstream.

Iris Lopez: Because you all can unite under loving this thing that isn’t pop culture to the point where it’s on the radio. It’s a little more niche and in that. The people who are here really love it to love it. And I think that that’s beautiful.

Audy McAfee: Sean Kerresey was at Crybaby too. He’s new to house music, but says it’s growing on him.

Sean Kerresey: It hits right in every situation. It’s like very danceable. Um, and I think that’s why I’m drawn to house music.

Audy McAfee: Like Sean, I’m finding myself much more drawn to house music. If you’re looking for a place to start, Spotify’s House Music is Black Music opened a new universe of music listening for me.

House may not be everyone’s fancy, but that’s okay, because as the late godfather of house music, Frankie Knuckles, said. House music is a church for the children fallen from grace. All you have to do is feel it. In Oakland, I’m Audy McAfee.

Shereen Marisol Meraji: I feel it and I hope you do too. Thanks for listening to this episode of Northgate Radio, produced and reported by the audio students at UC Berkeley’s Graduate School of Journalism. The reporters on today’s show are Amaray Alvarez, Royvi Hernandez, and Audy McAfee, all class of 2025. These stories were edited by me and my partner in all things at the J School, audio professor, Queena Kim.

And big, big thanks to our sound engineer, Rick Johnson. Intro and outro music courtesy of Blue Dot Sessions free music archive. I’m Shereen Marisol Meraji, your host and the head of the audio program at UC Berkeley’s Graduate School of Stay tuned for our next show. Peace.