23 JUNE 13-19, 2024 westword.com WESTWORD | CONTENTS | LETTERS | NIGHT+DAY | CULTURE | CAFE | MUSIC | FIND MORE MUSIC COVERAGE AT WESTWORD.COM/MUSIC Mic Drop HOW BEATS BODEGA AND RIVER ARE BUILDING UP DENVER’S HIP-HOP SCENE. BY EMILY FERGUSON “I feel like a lot of business owners talk about community, but I don’t think they even know what community is. It’s just the trend where they’re like, ‘We have to say this because it’s going to make us look great,’” says Kourisa CdeBaca from behind the bar at River. But Kourisa and her husband, Gil Cde- Baca, walk the talk. As we chat in the art gallery/music venue/watering hole they opened three years ago, a few people poke their heads in the door. “So sorry, we’re not open yet!” Kourisa responds to their inter- ruptions, warm and chipper. “But feel free to look around!” In just a few hours, though, River will be packed for Beats Bodega. Through that weekly Thursday showcase, innovated by producer Face Defeat, who also runs the venue’s Plug and Play Monday events, River is now solidifying its status as one of Denver’s only venues with a solid dedication to foster- ing the hip-hop community. Kourisa says River started by hosting EDM and band acts — something it still does — but when Beats Bodega was presented as an option, she jumped on it. Since it debuted in March 2023, it has become one of the most popular nights of the week. “We’ve done all the genres. We’ve done drag shows, EDM, hip-hop, reggae, blue- grass; we’ve done so many different things,” Kourisa says. “But hip-hop is the one that most stuck out to me. Everybody’s hiring bands. Everybody’s hiring all these other genres, but there’s not a whole lot of play going to hip-hop. “We want to highlight the opportu- nity here,” she adds, “and how we’re not pay-to-play. And Denver’s very much a pay-to-play place.” That’s something that sets Beats Bodega apart. While other hip-hop open mics allow artists to pay to skip lines or just to enter their names, Beats Bodega is solely about show- casing music from whoever wants to show up. “The Denver hip-hop community is not against each other, but they could be collaborating more,” Kourisa sug- gests. “We’ve had artists from Atlanta, St. Louis, New York, Houston, so we’re hearing about their communities and how ours is not like that.” She’s heard of several hip-hop artists who have moved away from Denver just to fi nd a community. “It’s — what’s the word that’s opposite of collaborative?” she asks. “Backstabbing,” inserts Face Defeat. “They’re competing against each other. Not enough scene to go around.” Face Defeat is Jonathan Burke, who moved to Denver from New York City, where he compiled a résumé that included working with the legendary Lyricist Lounge as well as in audio engineering with 50 Cent, Jay Z and P Diddy. He also ran sound for such artists as Missy Elliott, Lil’ Kim, Mary J Blige, Jennifer Lopez and Erykah Badu as they rehearsed for tours at a studio outside the city. Burke moved to Denver in 2019. “It was a super culture shock,” he refl ects. “People are like, ‘Friday and Saturday are the days to go out.’ Well, that’s every day back home.” He also noticed a lack of cohesion in the hip-hop community, particularly when it came to consistent weekly events as well as col- laborations. And many rappers he spoke with complained about the lack of opportunities. “So what are you doing about it? You’re going to do it or not,” he says, throwing up his hands. “That’s how Beats Bodega came about,” he continues. “That’s what I’m bringing to Colorado. I want to bring everything, the whole culture. Here, there’s no culture — it’s cliquish.” Beats Bodega aims to break up that clique. When Burke heard the rapper She Who Won’t Be Named at another open mic, he immediately invited her to emcee Beats Bodega. He records much of the shows and consistently shares content to the Beats Bodega Instagram. He will let anyone with a sheer desire to perform on the stage, and then give tips on what to do better — sometimes things as simple as telling the audience their name and how to fi nd their music. While the night has grown slowly, with just twenty or so people at the fi rst iteration, it’s now overfl owing. “It’s about consistency,” Burke notes. But he says that artists are still surprised when he tells them they can get on stage without him fi rst vetting their Instagram pages. “I’m providing the space for you to go up there and do what you got to do,” he says. “I don’t need to see that. … [The audience] wants to see. This is the real life. If you said that to Jay-Z, he’s not going to say, ‘Let me see your account and let me follow you.’ He wants you to show your talent.” Burke wants to not only show Denver’s talent, but grow it. “I’m really talent-search- ing,” he says, with a goal to perhaps start a label or talent agency here. He also wants to curate the plethora of reels and content he’s created via Beats Bodega and put on YouTube, and create a mixtape from that. “I’m getting to love [doing] promotion and actually seeing the hunger in certain” artists, he says. “Some people just want to touch the stage or just want content; they don’t want to go outside of that.” The crowds at River today are a welcome reward after a lot of hard work, as well as a solid commitment to a for-the-artist vision. River had a rocky start, with the CdeBacas taking on the business with “zero capital,” Kourisa says. “Literally no money.” She and Gil had poured their savings into the place, which they rent from Gil’s uncle, Karl CdeBaca, who owns the building at 3759 Chestnut Place that was once the infamous Welcome Inn. Kourisa says Karl “would do nothing but complain about the owners of the Welcome Inn.” Gil grew up in the neighborhood and remembers the bar — which began to build a seedy reputation for its rowdy patrons and errant managers — very well. When Karl discovered that the former owner of the Welcome Inn was engaging in shady business practices, “she got kicked out,” Kourisa says. During COVID, MUSIC River boasts artwork inside and out. continued on page 24 JACQUELINE COLLINS Beats Bodega takes over River on Thursdays. JACQUELINE COLLINS
