Goodbye, Chango Jackson. Hello, Chango Man and Yoko Mono

If Alanis had believed a hundred percent that Ortega was smitten with cumbia, that would have been one thing. But Alanis had his doubts. "It seemed to come out of left field and he seemed to get more enthusiastic about it after he helped his dad do it," he says. "It made me question his integrity — did he really want this or did he just see an open market? But whatever, even if that was the case, there's nothing wrong with that. It's just not what I wanted to do."

Well, it wasn't something he wanted to do regularly, anyway, because Alanis did perform with Ortega's band at the show last Friday. But let's back up and take that gig band by band.

Yoko Mono opened what was scheduled as a three-band set but wound up being four. In addition to Kirby, the band is rounded out by a drummer and bassist Rozz Zamorano. The sound was a muddle for much of their set, but when the mix finally got right, what you heard was tough, funky and muy cool. The interplay between Kirby and Alanis was tight as ever, and Zamorano is the perfect bassist to set them off. Alanis busted out an electric sitar on one number and continued Chango Jackson's knack for inspired covers with a Spanish translation of Blue Oyster Cult's "Godzilla."

After brief sets by an unscheduled local band and Zechs Marquise, an El Paso band from the Cedric Bixler-Zavala Barber College and School of Progressive Zeppelin Studies, Chango Man assembled on the stage.

Ortega's is a huge group — few local bands outside of Clouseaux pack a stage like this one, and certainly none with such a variety of people. There was a sax man in a fez and caftan, a trombonist in leopard-skins, a guy in Tejano charro regalia. Right now the band is more fun than it is tight, but it was hard to sit still and keep from smiling through their short set, which closed with a Spanish-language cover of Kool and the Gang's "Jungle Boogie." Or should that be "Chango Boogie"?

By mutual agreement, neither band performed any Chango Jackson material except for "Mis Huevos," Ortega's novelty polka ditty about his balls.

Alanis did sit in with Chango Man, though. Before the show, Alanis said this would be the first and last time he would do so. "He asked me to do this show with him, and I agreed to it, and he may think that I am going to continue with it, but I did this as a friend," he says. "Even though I was pretty mad at him for a long time, I got over it, but even if I did like this music more, even if it was something that I wanted to pursue...Now, with having kids, it's hard enough to pursue my band that I really am passionate for. And I don't really feel it for the cumbia stuff."

You can't blame Alanis — imagine what The Edge would do if Bono decided he wanted to start a 12-piece trad Irish party band. But it does seem over for Chango Jackson now, and that's a shame. Here's hoping that Ortega and Alanis will see past their lingering differences and allow each other to give their old material spins in their new bands.

john.lomax@houstonpress.com