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nic feliciano Is Blessed With The ‘Curse of an Overactive Creative Mind’

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a woman wearing glasses with black hair and bangs strikes a pose with her hands shaped as finger guns toward the camera. in the background is construction materials like wooden planks and barrels found at a recycling depot.
nic feliciano aka Coco Machete poses at one of her favorite spots, Berkley's salvage yard, Urban Ore. (Kate Buenconsejo)

View the full episode transcript.

nic feliciano will find a way to creatively express herself, no matter what.

feliciano (who also goes by Coco Machete) contains multitudes. She’s a fashionista who currently resides in Berkeley, but was born in the Philippines and spent her teenage years in Southern California. After moving to the East Bay for school two decades ago, she’s grown into a playwright, chef, thespian and — as she says — “a master of fun.” She’s also a former MC and member of the Bay Area-based hip-hop group HOTTUB, which made Miami Bass–inspired rap songs from roughly 2006 to 2013.

When it comes to her work, there are two important things to understand: first, she incorporates her Filipina identity into everything she creates. Second, her “work” isn’t really work at all.

A woman poses in a squat stance with her left hand holding her chin. She wears neon green clogs, black tights and a zebra print skirt. In the background are shelves holding recycled water jugs and plastic pots.
nic feliciano is a writer, performer and cook based in Berkeley by way of the Philippines. (Kate Buenconsejo)

feliciano proudly maintains flexible daytime employment to pay her bills, while letting her creative juices flow during the evening hours. This separation allows her to stay inspired, penning funny sketches that she performs as a part of her Grannycart Gangstas act at Blindlestiff Studio in San Francisco.

feliciano’s creations go beyond the stage. She’s currently writing a comic book in which she gives a modern spin on the mythological creature from Filipino folklore, the Manananggal. The storyline sheds light on the exploitation that workers in the Philippines face working as contractors for Big Tech.

This week, we talk about how the Bay Area has assisted feliciano’s artistic endeavors, from rapping over bass-heavy hip-hop beats in the early 2000s to forging a “creative family of misfit Filipino kids who didn’t follow the path.”


Episode Transcript

This is a computer-generated transcript. While our team has reviewed it, there may be errors.

[Music]

Pendarvis Harshaw, Host: Hey what’s up Rightnowish listeners. I’m your host, Pendarvis Harshaw. 

For this episode, we hear from cook, slash writer, slash actor, slash musician and all around funny person, nic feliciano, who goes by the moniker Coco Machete. 

At age 10, nic, along with her mother and sister, left the Philippines and settled in Orange County. Itching to find like-minded folks, nic eventually left SoCal and moved to Berkeley for community college… and she’s been here ever since. 

As y’all may know, juggling day jobs and side gigs to pay the bills comes with the territory of being an artist in the Bay. But for nic, she’s not pressed to let how she pays the rent define her.

nic feliciano, Guest: The true art and what I do is just kind of like surviving. Like my mom to me is an artist because of- she’s never picked up a paintbrush in her life. But like, the way she moves through life and the way she like, makes shit happen and the way she like, figures this out over that or whatever. Like, damn, that’s like such art to me!

Pendarvis Harshaw: Rightnowish producer Marisol Medina-Cadena and I dive into the splendor that is nic’s mind, and discuss how she honors Filipino brilliance in all that she does. 

That and more right after this. 

[Ad break]

Marisol Medina-Cadena: When we spoke on the phone a while ago, you said something that just really crystallized your creative practice for me. You said you were in your “expansive era.” I feel like that expression really speaks volumes about where you’re at with your relationship to artmaking. So what does your expansive area look like? 

nic feliciano: It’s more of just a consciousness whenever I can… if I try- if I have a moment to like meditate on something, it’s just asking for guidance in terms of like how I- how this experience can make me a little bit more expansive and a little bit more able to hold more empathy, more love. 

If I forget to remind myself that I’m in that space right now, it’s very easy for everything to knock it down, and feel tired and unaligned. And so I’m kind of using that as a way to stay the course and create some stamina… trying to come from as much love as I can in these crazy times because it’s harder and harder. [Laughs]

Marisol Medina-Cadena: I know that you have a day job outside of your creative practice. And maybe there’s overlap but they’re not really contingent on each other. How do you structure your life in a way that you have the passion and the desire to still make art outside of, like what pays your bills? 

nic feliciano: I always like, kind of gave myself a hard time about that and been like, what’s wrong with you? Like, why wouldn’t you want to go all in on your art and like, really be about it, live it or whatnot? And I think that for me, not depending on it financially has always sustained it. 

I think I just am one of those people who were blessed or cursed with an overactive creative mind that is constantly feeling the need to like express and release or whatever. But I realized that every time it got to a point where it was time to take it serious, or even like the idea of living off of my art, or like any of that, I feel like — personally, like it kind of kills it a little bit and it doesn’t feel super aligned. I’m not super inspired by it. 

So it’s just about like finding work that’s not going to keep me there, [Laughs] like beyond the hours that I need to be. And my brain doesn’t get going until the nighttime anyway. So like, I take advantage of like whatever time, you know, I have outside of that.

And so, I’m grateful, I feel grateful that my day jobs haven’t completely, like, overshadowed my my creative work. You know, how I pay my bills is kind of like the smallest part of my identity. [Laughs] It’s just… no to careers and no to making art a career either, I don’t know. [Laughs] 

Pendarvis Harshaw: Balance. It sounds like balance. And also making sure that you work within what’s best for you. You said your night hours, you know, being at home. You know yourself. 

nic feliciano: I’m trying you know, it’s the journey. It’s part of the ride! [Laughs]

Pendarvis Harshaw: Diving into your artistic endeavors. You’re on the cusp of finishing your first comic book, so I hear. And it’s a sci-fi thriller based on Filipino folklore?

nic feliciano: Yeah, gosh!

Pendarvis Harshaw: Please tell me about the inspiration for this. 

nic feliciano: This has been in the works for quite a while. Inspired by a PBS documentary called The Cleaners, which was about a third party company in the Philippines that was being hired by, like, the Googles, the Facebooks, all that kind of stuff. 

Basically, when something gets flagged on any of these platforms, they’re going to these workers — oftentimes, you know, in the Global South: Philippines, India, and a human is processing these images and they’re deciding whether to delete or to keep. 

[Music]

nic feliciano: They’re getting PTSD. They’re like processing 8,000 images a day, you know, just like constant, just the worst images you can imagine!

One of my favorite folkloric creatures in Filipino folklore is this creature called the manananggal. And it’s oftentimes a femme creature. They stay in the trees, they’re kind of vampiric or what have you. And their top half comes off, and that’s what goes flying around at night looking for food, primarily victims or whatnot. They’re known to suck the life through belly buttons.

Typically, it’s represented as a scary thing that, you know, growing up, if you didn’t, like, go to sleep right away, they’d be like, “oh, the Manananggal is going to come get you.” 

As I’ve like, gotten older and whatnot, I’m just like, well, like, what if it actually was like a creature that, like, went out and did stuff for justice, you know what I mean? I just, like, made up all this stuff in my head. 

So anyway, I wrote this short one act play that was from the perspective of this Manananggalgal who didn’t realize they were a Manananggal until they were exploited super hard at work. They snap. And they go and kill, like, all the CEOs. 

Thank god Bindlestiff Studios, shout out to Bindlestiff Studios over there in the SOMA, 6th and Howard. The only place for Filipino and Filippinx performing arts, like, they put this play up. It’s pretty ridiculous, but I’m obsessed with this world, like… it’s kind of like the prequel to this piece that I wrote. 

And so I feel like — comic book, that’s a good way to kind of… not so much lighten it, but like not make it so realistic. The fact that it’s not the real thing, I think feels sort of liberating to tell the story in the way that it is in my head, without it being too, like, real. 

And I’m really excited about it, and it’s taken a while, but I’m glad we’ve taken our time because I’ve been collaborating with this incredible illustrator Corpser. Shout out Corpser from Bulacan, in the Philippines. He and I have been going back and forth and he’s illustrated the whole thing and he snapped on the illustration. Neither of us had done this before, but oh man, like, with his vision and my crazy, gross world building. It’s nasty and I can’t wait to share it. 

Marisol Medina-Cadena: You’ve spoken a lot about Bindlestiff, can you tell us what drew you to that space? 

nic feliciano: So it’s just my mom, my sister and I here in the U.S., everybody else is back in Manila. 

[Sound design: birds chirping]

I have like 25 cousins back home that I when I’m there, like everyone’s around and just kind of really missing like that sense of home, or what have you.

And so this thing happens to me every time I go back and forth where my reality gets really shook up. Like, I can’t tell what’s real. I feel a lot of guilt of living here and not being a part of what my family back home has to go through to survive, you know what I mean? It’s very- our lives are very different, and jumping back and forth is kind of a challenging thing for me. 

And so I remember being on the bus on my way home from work, and I saw that Bindlestiff- I was in their mailing list somehow, and I saw that they were auditioning for Tagalog speaking actors.

And I was like, “Oh, maybe… that’s scary, I don’t know.” And then a month later, I see it again. And so I was like, “Okay, they’re still looking. Obviously it’s been a month. Like, maybe this is a sign I should just go and just do it.”

By the grace of God, I somehow still remember, like the Tagalog Pledge of Allegiance from school! [Giggles] I pulled up and I did the best pledge of allegiance with feelings that I could like a fool, and sang my little song, and I guess they were down because they called me back! 

[Music]

From that point on, I’ve never said no to anything Bindlestiff-related again. It’s just 30 years, volunteer-run. Beyond just the theater space, the amount of work that they do in the SOMA neighborhood, like over the pandemic, their artistic director, Irene, ran a program where a bunch of, like, actors were volunteering- everyone, like, delivering groceries to the elders around there.

It’s put so much purpose to my art. I’ve had to reverse engineer my, even my own knowledge of, like, Philippine history and pre-colonial history. Like, I wouldn’t have probably learned that there, but coming here and being around other people in diaspora and learning about how other cultures have looked inward to be able to, like, get through our experiences out here — I feel like, in some sense, we owe it to really center like those who are still living in the land and the and the realities that they face every day and support their art. 

I feel like Bindlestiff does a really good job doing that. Like, they’re in direct communication with the community here and always trying to, like, bridge that- that ocean, you know, those thousands and thousands of miles ya know? So it feels good. I’m so grateful to have found them and create a- like a creative family of misfit Filipino kids who didn’t follow the path. [Laughs] 

Pendarvis Harshaw: You’re a part of a crew called Granny Cart Gangstas. What does that entail?

nic feliciano: So, Granny Cart Gangstas is an open-door [Laughs] comedy troupe — mostly Asian American, femme, multi-gender folks — who have been around for ten years, thank you very much. We just celebrated our ten-year anniversary last year. Basically, yeah, we- we’re a sketch comedy troupe. 

Our two founders, Aureen and Ava, came up with the name because they’re always riding around with their granny cart, getting on the bus with it, you know, like as you see all around town. People move when it’s time to roll the granny cart full of laundry or groceries or whatever. It’s like, okay! So that’s kind of what inspired the name. 

We do 2 to 3 week shows once a year at Bindlestiff. We all write all our own material. And we- when it’s time to put it up. Oh, man. It’s a hoot.  

Video Clip, Granny Cart Gangstas: Good evening. I am Lauren Goodman, and welcome to Quarantine Now. Our top story is about the “Adobo Hoes,” a retired roller derby squad. They are leading the way in roller skating security escort tactics. Now being adopted around the San Francisco Bay Area to protect Asian American seniors. The community at large is now reporting feeling more confident and more secure with the hoes working the streets.

Pendarvis Harshaw: Before you got into theater, you were part of a group called HOTTUB…

nic feliciano: Oh my gosh.

Pendarvis Harshaw: Yeah, we’re going there. You were involved in Oakland’s underground music scene — a lot of warehouse parties. Tell me about that music and how that era really shaped your perspective on life today? 

nic feliciano: [Exhales breath] That era was wild, number one. Proved to be unsustainable. It started mid-2000s, like 2006 and we’re pretty active all the way to 2013. 

There was so much reaction to, kind of like now, like to what was going on there. That was, like, the tail end of the, kind of like, Bush era. Oh my gosh, Occupy- like the Occupy Movement. So there was a lot of just like tension, especially in the East Bay, where the, the, the trickle of like what was going on in San Francisco hadn’t quite made it over there, but you could still start to feel it. And there was just a real sort of tension there. 

And I think out of that came just a very confrontational time, I would say.  There wasn’t a lot of, like, femme acts at the time when we were, when, when we were performing. And so it’s three girls to the front, you know, it was, like, rough! 

Marisol Medina-Cadena: In that vein of like being you said confrontational, loud, using your voice to claim space on stage. Sonically, what did your set sound like? 

nic feliciano: My gosh, a battle. Like our producers Jaysonic, Funky Finger Mark. We would bring out an MPC drum machine and a ASR ten sampler keyboard. Those were like our two things. They didn’t have, like, didn’t use laptops, nothing. And these are, like, really textured, heavy sounds that are going straight into sound systems. And then three girl MC chanting banshees like wild women. 

[Music: “Shoot the Lights Out” by HOTTUB]

Looking at my Casio it’s about that time

I’m ’bout to pick it up stat on my hustle and grind

I got nothin in my pocket but motha-fuckin’ fuck it

I can get a fat loan if you can co-sign it

But who cares!

I ain’t tripin’ I ain’t tryin to trick for the man

Just to get a couple grand in my hand…

nic feliciano: The original concept of HOTTUB was, was going to be like Tagalog-Miami bass-type stuff. 

I was always represent- you know, representing my, my shit. And so when I would write raps in Tagalog, lucky for us, we’re here in the Bay area with hella Filipinos. So every so often, like someone would be like “Yo!!!!”  you know, and really like kind of recognizing. And that’s always, like, such a gift. But even though it feels like screaming in the void, like I- it just, feels great! 

[Music]

Shoot the lights out shoot the lights out!

Shoot the lights out shoot the lights out, oh!!

Shoot the lights out shoot the lights out!

Shoot the lights out shoot the lights out, whoa!!

nic feliciano: I’m so glad that I was able to come up creatively during that time because it never felt like there was so much to lose, because it was already coming from nothing. It was like so beyond DIY, you know, like… There was no fear in what we wanted to say. And we could just confront, like, every issue- You know, creating like this, like safe space for like, femme energy to kind of aggressively take over! 

[Music: “M.A.N.B.I.T.C.H” by HOTTUB]

Don’t disrespect

You gotta come correct

I’m tired of your nasty-ass…

nic feliciano: It really was so empowering to- to be doing this with two of my best friends, you know, Jen and Amber shout out. Just making the most noise and just trying to, like, [Yells] get it out!  

Definitely formative. And it, it it it gave me the guts to do things that are creative and to actually allow yourself to express, like, some of the stuff that’s going on in, in our minds takes so much guts. 

I’m so grateful for that time in my life. And I’m also so grateful that I’ve recovered. [Laughs] 

Pendarvis Harshaw: It’s out. It’s done. 

[Music]

M. A. N. B. I. T. C. H.

We know what it is,

It’s written all over your face!

Marisol Medina-Cadena: Just hearing you talk, there’s like this throughline between the comic book, the band HOTTUB, the work you do with Bindlestiff, of like centering Filipino culture. Is there like a thesis or like mission statement behind that, or is that just who you are? 

nic feliciano: I think about this all the time. I think it’s just who I’ve always been. The very first day of school, of American school, ten years old, Orange County of all places. It was just so clear that I was not… of here. 

[Music]

There’s so many times that my creative mind and like this idea of trying to reconcile, you know, my- my existence here to home. Like I still think Philippines is home. 

I was five years old when the Philippine Revolution happened. So in 1986, the Filipino people banded together, got the support of the military, and ousted Ferdinand Marcos, who was dictator for like, the last 26 years or whatever. And so I kind of feel like I’m a kid of revolution. Like, I understand that there is… that people can really get together and like, do something great, like, I believe in it, I seen it happen with my own eyes. And I feel like coming here, there’s always just been this sense of, like, refusing to be erased. 

Marisol Medina-Cadena: The last question that we have for you is: being in your expansive era now, and all the personal values you have for yourself. What do you need from, like, the art scene or your peers or art spaces to do the kind of work you want to do? 

nic feliciano: Watching how — especially here in the Bay Area — watching how artists come together to like, really fight for what they believe in, and really, like, put their necks on the line and really support certain movements, like it’s fired up right now. And I think that, you know, what we can all do for each other is provide ways that we can build our stamina, because I really think that’s what we’re gonna need. 

And the more of that we use our art as leverage and as power, and the more that we understand how powerful we are together… I think that’s probably my greatest ask for myself and our community. It’s like, figure out ways to build stamina because we’re really gonna need it for the long haul.

[Credits music]

Pendarvis Harshaw: Big thank you nic feliciano for dropping by the KQED stu’ to talk about the important things and for making us laugh through it all. You can find her on instagram @cocomachetez. That’s spelled c-o-c-o-m-a-c-h-e-t-e-z. 

From May 16th through June 1st, nic will be taking part in an original production at Bindlestiff Studios called Dark Heart. Be sure to check that out. 

This episode was hosted by me, Pendarvis Harshaw. Marisol Medina-Cadena produced this episode. Chris Hambrick held it down for edits on this one. Christopher Beale engineered this joint.  

The music you heard was courtesy of HOTTUB and Audio Network.

The Rightnowish team is also supported by Jen Chien, Ugur Dursun, Holly Kernan, Cesar Saldaña and Katie Sprenger. 

Thank you all for listening! For longtime fans of the show, y’all know how we roll. But if you’re new here, welcome! We’re glad to have you, it’s our honor to introduce you to Bay Area culture keepers and change makers you may not have the privilege of knowing… yet. 

So, if you enjoy what we’re doing at Rightnowish, please share the podcast with a friend or a coworker. Subscribe and rate the podcast on whatever platform you choose. Every little action goes a long way. 

Ok, y’all be easy! 

Rightnowish is a KQED production.

Peace.

Rightnowish is an arts and culture podcast produced at KQED. Listen to it wherever you get your podcasts or click the play button at the top of this page and subscribe to the show on NPR One, Spotify, Apple Podcasts, TuneIn, Stitcher or wherever you get your podcasts.

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