Subsuelo has performed on major stages from Coachella to Lightning in a Bottle and Red Bull’s Soundclash, but the crew is most at home on the astonishingly small, always tightly packed, open-air patio at Caña Rum Bar in downtown L.A.
For seven years, the revered global bass crew has been packing in dancers for Subsuelo Sundays, a daylong summer-only dance party that features everything from created-on-the-spot cumbia cuts to reggaeton and amapiano remixes, hip-hop turntablism and edits of classic Mexican party anthems with live instrumentation. While Caña’s small stage may be a who’s-who of musicians and DJs — guests have included everyone from DJs Vikter Duplaix and KCRW’s Anthony Valadez, to Son Rompe Pera and Buyepongo — Subsuelo Sundays is incredibly unpretentious, welcoming and boundary-pushing.
“Our thing has always been experimental and evolving,” says Subsuelo co-founder DJ Canyon Cody. “One week you get samba and another week you get dancehall. [Performing at Caña] gave us that opportunity to get back to what it is that we do best, which is incorporate many different things and provide surprises.”
Above all, it is hot. People are in close proximity, sweating and visibly enjoying themselves as they throw it back to new and familiar sounds. It’s what draws a local hospitality worker dubbed “La Vecinita” to the party during her breaks — if you look up at the right time, you’ll catch her dancing on an overhead walkway — and the reason why Esme Reyna had her wedding reception at Subsuelo Sundays in 2022.
“I have been partying and dancing with this crew for over a decade,” says Reyna. “My spouse and I decided to get married on a whim. We decided to have a tiny ceremony and celebrations on a Saturday, and then have a banger with all our local friends on the following Sunday. So we asked: Why reinvent the wheel? Why not just go where many of our friends already will be, or will want to be? Subsuelo Sunday.”
While the party was weekly for the majority of its run, Subsuelo has pivoted to a monthly event in 2024 to make room for other activities — including a new monthly pool party at the Godfrey Hotel in Hollywood and an upcoming tour. Their salsa-focused Aug. 11 party will feature Hong Kong-based DJ Gia Fu and L.A.-by-way-of-Venezuela DJ/shop owner El Marchante. The final Subsuelo Sunday of the season will be held Sept. 1 — an 11-hour event with Pedro Night of Washington, D.C.’s Adobo party.
Regardless of location, Subsuelo’s story is a study in the culture of Los Angeles: intersecting, evolutionary and extraordinarily cool. Ever dedicated to their craft, Subsuelo have achieved something increasingly rare in nightlife — longevity.
The brainchild of then-roommates Cody and photographer Farah Sosa, Subsuelo began as a series of late-night house parties and later found a home at Boyle Heights’ Eastside Luv in 2011. The popular monthly party featured guests including Mexican Institute of Sound, Toy Selectah and Dam-Funk.
When there were “consistently more people outside in line than inside the venue,” Cody notes, Subsuelo experimented with parties at the Virgil and Los Globos, eventually finding their spiritual home at Caña.
“The venues that we have had throughout the years allow some level of intimacy, where we can be together in a safe space, where people can get down comfortably and free and still be close and feel OK about it,” says Sosa, who spends much of Subsuelo Sundays weaving between crowd and crew, capturing the event’s potent energy.
The size of Caña’s patio allows the audience to experience high-caliber artists at close range, and those acts are often experimenting themselves.
“The more successful artists out there, they have been doing their thing for so long that it’s harder to find those butterflies-in-the-stomach things,” Cody reflects. “I see them get excited and kind of nervous, in a good way, about coming to play at Subsuelo and having to do something that is a little outside of their normal performance.”
While Subsuelo performed with many of their musical heroes in their early years, the majority of more recent Sundays guests are working musicians — folks who tour with major stars like Cafe Tacvba and Gloria Trevi but don’t necessarily get solo shine. Many of these musical matches are the result of Sosa’s running about town, where she shoots everything from the Hollywood Bowl to underground after-hours.
“They are stars in their own account and their own fields, but then they come here and they do their thing, and they reach another audience that they were not reaching before,” Sosa says. “In that one time, this incredible language happens. They can showcase their talent but with our flavors — whatever flavor is happening at the very moment.”
Subsuelo’s flavor runs the gamut of global dance rhythms, but it’s typically Latin-centric. Cody describes global bass as retro-futuristic fusion genre, where sounds from the 1970s through the ’90s — including traditional cumbias, dembow and Brazilian baile funk — are combined with contemporary hits. Dominican rappers El Alfa and Tokischa take space next to Mexican artists Celso Piña and Los Tucanes de Tijuana; Cody and core member DJ Ethos often create new remixes and edits of these artists on the fly.
“It’s that kind of art that is just for you, and it probably won’t happen again,” Ethos says, adding that Serato Stems revolutionized the Subsuelo crew’s efforts to mix live. “I love the fact that we can create something and boom, it’s gone.”
Canyon Cody notes Subsuelo has engendered a specific kind of confidence from attendees over the years; performers read the room and respond back in kind, teasing out the audience’s interest.
“The way that you spend that trust is like, ‘I’ve been there for you this last hour. I’m gonna take you a little outside your comfort zone down here for 15, 20 minutes to challenge you. And I need you to not lose faith in me, and stay in the moment and in the room, and trust that I’ll bring it back. Don’t worry, there’s a Bad Bunny song coming.’”
Admittedly, a portion of Subsuelo’s audience aren’t deep music heads interested in experiencing novel cuts and interplay from their neighborhood musicians — they just know that Caña is a good time. To Sosa, Subsuelo Sundays are often an education by osmosis.
“We have a lot of strangers [at our parties.] And to me, it’s a very important element to share with people that do not know the sounds what we like. At the end of the day, it’s our flavors, things that make us happy, things that make us have fun, things that we enjoy listening to, dancing to, washing the dishes too,” says Sosa.
But if you attend a Subsuelo Sunday party this year – or even this month – what you hear next time likely will be different. “I always like to be a little bit of a troublemaker in a party,” Cody says with a laugh.
Today Subsuelo’s extended crew consists of about 10 people, some active daily members, others with varying degrees of activity depending on the party or performance. Included in the Subsuelo family are Cristina Lucio, a co-founding member, producer and flamenco dancer, as well as percussionist Gerardo Morales and VJ/visual artist Julián Félix. Each member has a different role, depending on the size and scope of the party.
Subsuelo have extended their reach: Cody hosts KROQ’s “Alternalido” program, and Ethos repped the crew at Coachella’s Sahara Tent this year, both in addition to a club night called Caramelo and the semiregular Latitude party. The crew also is working with local Ansonia Records to remix music from their catalog archive for a new compilation.
As a whole, Subsuelo is responsible for educating a generation of Angelenos. “What they provide to Los Angeles is something to be appreciated and cherished,” notes Reyna, the bride who had her reception at Caña. “There has always been a real emphasis on art and community, rather than just making money and everyone getting wasted. I’ve learned about so many DJs, types of music and different artists through Subsuelo.”
The crew also has inspired others — including previous guests — to host their own events. Cody points to locals Cumbiaton, 2 DEEP, Late Night Laggers and Foreigner, and adds that he hopes Subsuelo can also be a home for out-of-towners with similar sonic vibes, such as established parties Texas’ Peligrosa and Que Bajo in New York.
Although nightlife is competitive, there’s room for everyone in a city like L.A. “You want your colleagues to be great and you’re going to be elevated by what they’re [doing]. When I see another party doing something really special, it reminds me to keep my standards high,” Cody notes.
More than a decade in, Subsuelo, in its many forms, remains exciting for the people in its crew. “It gives us joy, and we’re joy providers. We like to see people happy. We like to see them getting down. We like to see them discovering,” Sosa says.