It is thrilling the way a song or place pops up. It was something that we did not pay any mind, and then it has suddenly become immensely important. The transitional moment occurs in the rhythms of course. Walking city streets we have passed it many times, or at least passed its grave or its newest home. Later on we realize that it was there all along. Instead of being the last song on the New Year mixtape for Misson St. we had actually burned the CD backwards and it was put there as the first track, by some food god. We look around wondering if the genius who arranged this mix, intended for driving from New York City to New Haven, CT, was messing with us. Rather than petering out the process becomes intensely focused, building, first numbing your tongue and body with distinct peppercorn rhythms, then burning the crap out of your face with its 1000 chili melody.
At Mission Chinese they play gangsta rap, and the ambiance feels like a positive version of a dark, red, enchilado hell. Everything is recommended and water is all you will need. Stay for the whole song.
Hell and back
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