Quick Take

Felix Lozano, a longtime bartender at the Blue Lagoon whose work with disabled clients and role in Santa Cruz’s Latino punk rock scene made him a respected figure in the county’s artistic community, died on April 19.

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Some loss cuts so deeply, the wound is felt beyond just the local community, crossing oceans and borders. It’s the type of loss that changes everything in the lives of every individual who experiences it. 

On April 19, the Santa Cruz community was dealt this exact loss when father, son, uncle, brother, musician and beloved bartender Felix Lozano died suddenly from a heart attack. He was 51. 

For 20 years, Lozano could be found several nights a week slinging drinks at the Blue Lagoon on Pacific Avenue downtown. He was a staple in the lives of not only his family and coworkers but countless others in the area as a founding member of seminal Santa Cruz County Mexican punk band Los Dryheavers. Beyond bartending, he was often the heart and soul of “the Blue,” able to make people laugh when tensions were high and act as a messenger of tenacious positivity. I know because he was my coworker and my friend for the past 12 years. 

“He was larger than life,” says Los Dryheavers singer and Lozano’s longtime friend and brother-in-law, Hector Marquez. “And he was like that for everybody and everywhere he went.” 

There will be a viewing for Lozano at Mehl’s Colonial Chapel in Watsonville on Sunday from 3 p.m. to 8 p.m. His burial will be the next day, at Pajaro Valley Memorial Park in Watsonville at 1 p.m. Afterward, there will be a celebration of life at Felton Music Hall starting at 3 p.m. 

First and foremost, Lozano was a teacher, whether it was directly — teaching bar coworkers how to make certain drinks or showing clients at his day job how to use certain software — or indirectly through his actions. He treated everyone with respect. Even if someone came at him sideways, a drunk patron or entitled college student, he would confront them in a way that wasn’t angry but still stern. At the bar we’d call it “dad shaming,” telling the person where they went wrong and how to do better. More times than not, the person would end up admitting fault, apologize and then leave Lozano a bigger tip than they had for previous drinks. 

“He had a huge impact on people,” says Cory Atkinson, who joined Los Dryheavers in 2003 as the band’s last bass player. 

Felix Lozano (far right) with Los Dryheavers. Hector Marquez is the second from the left and Cory Atkinson is second from the right. Credit: Pete Saporito

For Atkinson, one of the biggest impacts Lozano had on him was always making time for the people in his life despite working 60 hours a week at two jobs along with attending college classes for photography, taking care of not only his two kids but his parents as well along with finding the time to spend with his fiancée, Celia Renteria.  

“That’s what amazes me,” Atkinson says. “He was able to take time to forge relationships, and to me — without him knowing it — that was a lesson he taught me that I want to take forward in life.” 

Five days a week, Lozano worked as a community support facilitator at Hope Services, also in downtown Santa Cruz. Established in 1952, Hope Services helps people with developmental disabilities and mental health needs to grow, learn and function in a society that all too often overlooks them. 

Lozano — who worked for the company for 24 years in Watsonville and Aptos before transferring to Santa Cruz — was incredibly proud of his work and would constantly talk about what art or photography projects he was working on with “his guys,” and would go above and beyond to make sure the people he worked with were treated like everyone else.

Felix Lozano and his children at Disneyland. Lozano loved Disney films. Credit: Handout

At one point, two of the clients he worked with talked about wanting to take classes at Cabrillo College. “So Felix took it upon himself to sign them up,” says Hope Services program coordinator Aaron Valadez. “You don’t always think about the impact someone has on your life until they’re gone, and his absence has been huge.” 

For Hope Services client Chato Rojes, Lozano was someone he could confide in and discuss things he couldn’t with other people. “[Lozano] took us to the wharf a lot and he would treat us to lunch,” Rojes says. “We could talk with him about almost anything we wanted and he wouldn’t trip.” 

Kevin Ponce, 30, was a client of Lozano’s for the past five years and considered him a good friend. He says Lozano would teach clients how to use a computer and particularly Photoshop, giving them a positive creative outlet. Often he would bring his laptop to work so they could watch movies, particularly Disney films, which Lozano loved. 

“He was a very friendly, funny guy and would always make us smile,” Ponce says. 

Felix Lozano was born in the border town of McAllen, Texas, the son of migrant immigrant farmworkers. At the age of 13, his parents moved him to King City in the Salinas Valley, where his sister, Gabby, was born. 

“[Our parents] would follow the lechuga [lettuce] or whatever crop,” Gabby Lozano says. “We would always be at different schools and he would always make friends so easily.” 

Lozano and Gabby grew up listening to stories their dad would tell them about being a guard for Cesar Chavez and participating in the United Farm Workers strikes of the 1960s and early 1970s, instilling in them from an early age the values of loyalty and the power in numbers.

An avid fan of punk rock, by the time he was in his early 20s Lozano was throwing shows, hosting as many bands as he could to create a scene he, his friends and the young kids in the area could be proud of. As is common in the punk scene, he was inspired by local older bands he looked up to, such as Chances Are, Fury 66 and Good Riddance. 

Felix Lozano with sister Gabby Lozano. Credit: Gabby Marquez

“He built the King City scene from the ground up,” says Marquez. At the time, bands would drive from Los Angeles to San Francisco, with only a stop in San Luis Obispo to play for gas and food money. 

“He would tell them, ‘Come play over here to 100 kids, we’ll get you fed, give you a place to stay and get you some loot.” 

By the mid-1990’s Lozano was playing in ska punk act S.T.U.B. — an acronym for Small Town Ugly Bastards. Lozano loved to proudly proclaim in a tongue-in-cheek way that “my whole crew is ugly,” a saying he would later print on shirts for friends at the Blue Lagoon. It was around this time Lozano moved to Salinas and then Watsonville. Through playing shows in the area with S.T.U.B., he met Hector Marquez and Los Dryheavers’ first guitarist, Max Lona, who were both playing in a Clash-style, Mexican punk ska act named Caradura. 

“He was the ultimate definition of humble,” Lona says. “We dug each other’s vibe because we both grew up poor. In a predominantly white punk rock scene, we connected being Mexican. He looked like a knuckle-breaker but he was the exact opposite.”

Fate would intervene on Dec.10, 1998, when Lozano, his sister, Marquez, Lona and friends were at The Catalyst to see famed Ramones drummer Marky Ramone and the Intruders. Lona, Marquez and Lozano were already jamming together on a side project, but they didn’t have a name for it yet.

“The Catalyst used to have $1 to $3 shows with drink specials,” Hector Marquez remembers. “And we were a hot mess, blasted in the Atrium. And I remember our original bassist Wes [Towne] said, ‘Man, I gotta go to work tomorrow and I’m going to be dryheaving all day.’”

“And they said, ‘We should call ourselves the Dryheavers!” says Gabby Lozano. “It was the stupidest thing and they thought it was so funny. They wanted to also sing in Spanish so they decided to put a ‘Los’ in front and that was it. It stuck.” 

Over the years Gabby and Marquez would end up marrying and Los Dryheavers went through several lineup changes. In 2004 they released their debut full-length album, “Hangups, Heartaches and Hangovers,” with a follow-up, “Words of Surrender,” in 2007. Their songs ranged from the standard punk rock “drink, fight, f–k” anthems to songs about the campesinos (farmers) and the working class struggles they grew up with. 

Felix Lozano performs with Los Dryheavers. Credit: Pete Saporito

While the band never officially broke up (there have been several “reunion” shows throughout the years, beginning in 2017, and the band had one planned for this December with another legendary Santa Cruz band, The Chop Tops), they were most active between 1998 and 2011. During that time they not only toured the U.S., but also played on the Vans Warped Tour, toured Mexico and crossed the Atlantic to play in the autonomous Spanish community of the Basque Country. 

Since Lozano’s death, his family has been amazed at the outpouring of support and condolences they’ve received from those who knew him or were influenced by him from around the world. 

“It’s crazy how many people he knew,” Gabby Lozano says. 

It’s impossible to describe just how important Los Dryheavers were to the local punk scene and the hundreds of kids who grew up in it. Anyone who was there will attest to the sheer insanity of a Dryheavers show. It seemed everyone in the audience would be singing along to every song, screaming their hearts out as if each word was written just for them. 

“All those people who were kids [now] keep messaging us, saying, ‘I got into music because of your brother’ or ‘It was because of your brother’s encouragement that I started to play’ or ‘Because the shows were so awesome I wanted to do the same thing,’” says Gabby Lozano. 

One of my favorite things about the band was the in-between song banter. The guys had the best sense of humor, often taking their shirts off and telling people in the audience to make out and “not make it weird” in a playful way. 

“We had a big inclusive following in the early 2000s,” Hector Marquez says. “[Lozano] always made sure whoever was in the front was protected whether they were a girl, guy or gay. We had a following because they felt safe around.” 

For the Mexican and Spanish-speaking community, Los Dryheavers were often the first time many of the kids saw someone who looked like them on stage and singing in their native language. 

Fleix Lozano and fiancee Celia Renteria. Credit: Handout

“This is truly a shock to our community,” writes Josh Chaos in a message to me when asked about Lozano. Chaos is the lead singer of San Jose Chicano punk band Mokosos, and was inspired by Los Dryheavers and specifically Lozano. 

“For the Latino kid with no direction in society, seeing Los Dryheavers … we knew we weren’t alone,” Chaos says. “As the years progressed Felix embracing our band [was] a newfound inspiration. We will never allow the light he lit go dim.” 

As I sit and write this, what strikes me most about Lozano is I’ve spent multiple hours over this past week interviewing his friends and family, yet these stories and memories barely scratch the surface of his impact. Like Lozano’s coworker Aaron Valadez says, sometimes we don’t truly appreciate how important someone is until they’re gone and their absence resonates with a deafening silence. Some people just seem invincible, community cornerstones who will always be there. 

That’s what makes Lozano’s death particularly painful. 

He was the person so many of us would turn to for advice when life seemed too overwhelming and dark. I know if he was here now he would say something like, “Don’t trip, tater chip” and make a stupid joke just to get a laugh. It’s a laugh I’m going to miss, which he did with his whole body and “sexy panza” – or sexy stomach. He taught me everything I know about being a bartender and — without knowing it — inspired me to be a better person every day. To be someone like him. As the words tattooed on his knuckles said, he showed me how to “stay true.” 

Felix Lozano (center right) with coworkers at the Blue Lagoon: Monica Howe (center with arms up) and Yesenia Raya (bottom right). Author Mat Weir is center left. Credit: Handout

Like everyone who knew him, I’m going to miss him everyday for as long as I live. It was an honor to be a part of his ugly crew and I will cherish every minute I spent with him at work and at shows. Te amo mi hermano. Gracias por todo. Felix por vida. Or as he would say, “Shaaaaaooooooww!”

There will be a viewing at Mehl’s Colonial Chapel, 222 E. Lake Ave., Watsonville, from 3 to 8 p.m. on Sunday; between 6 and 8 p.m., people can make speeches and there will be a mariachi.

Felix Lozano‘s burial will be held Monday at Pajaro Valley Memorial Park, 127 Hecker Pass Rd. in Watsonville, at 1 p.m. After the burial, there will be a celebration of life at Felton Music Hall at 3 p.m. There will be food (a taquero), and everyone is encouraged to bring a dessert along with memories and photos of Felix Lozano.

FOR THE RECORD: This story was updated to correct Gabby Lozano’s last name.

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