As far as West Coast cities go, Oxnard, California is not a household name. Sixty miles northwest of Los Angeles, it’s best known as the world’s strawberry capital, producing massive quantities of the fruit with the labor of underpaid workers. It is less appreciated, however, as a countercultural hotbed. Madlib and Anderson .Paak were born in the city. Influential graphic novel series Love and Rockets came out of and was based on the “Nardcore” punk scene of the early ‘80s. But few artists put on for their hometown as fervently as the self-styled “disabled disco innovator” Cola Boyy, aka Matthew Urango, whose posthumous final album Quit to Play Chess arrives on May 26, a little over a year after his passing at the age of 34.

“This place was a kind of paradise for us growing up,” says Cola Boyy’s twin brother, Marcus Urango. “I think a lot of it had to do with being around people in our age group experimenting with punk, hardcore, and indie music—that’s before you get into the hip-hop, salsa, and cumbia. There was so much to get into at a young age, whether we were looking for it or not.”

“A lot of the artists from Oxnard don’t deny they’re from there and they have a sense of pride about it, but they all left,” says Ross Harris, a fellow Oxnard native and director of multiple Cola Boyy music videos and mini-documentaries. “Matthew’s disability [spina bifida and kyphosis] made it so that he really had to stay in Oxnard. He lived with his parents. He passed away in his parents’ home. Because his disability limited the amount of traveling he could do, he made it into something he embraced. And it’s something worth embracing because it’s incredible what people have been able to achieve coming from the city.”

Cola Boyy’s 2021 single “Don’t Forget Your Neighborhood,” produced in collaboration with The Avalanches, was a breezy, anthemic ode to Oxnard, floating on electric keyboard stabs and pillowy four-on-the-floor thumps. “Fight for your town with your fist closed,” he sang, backed by a chorus of multi-tracked vocals, turning classic bildungsroman tropes of leaving home for the big city on their head.

“I appreciate, especially being kind of from like a smaller scene in a smaller town in Canada, him being the King of Oxnard,” says longtime friend Mac DeMarco. “He repped his crew as much as he repped his neighborhood. We rode for each other.”

Before Urango began writing funk-tinged, psychedelic solo work, he was a fixture in local punk acts, most notably playing guitar in Sea Lions, who released their debut LP on legendary indie pop label Slumberland in 2011. When the band crossed paths with New York garage pop purveyors The Beets, Urango became fast friends with frontman Juan Wauters. In 2014, when Wauters embarked on a solo career, he enlisted Urango to play guitar in his touring band. One stop on the tour included a set at Great American Music Hall, opening for Mac DeMarco.

“I remember we hung out quite late that night,” says DeMarco. “We went to a gay club, which I think was called the Pump House because they had pinball machines in there or something.”

Eventually, Urango moved to Far Rockaway, Queens, to live with Wauters, DeMarco, singer-songwriter Tall Juan, and visual artist Matthew Volz for a few months.

“I was worried at first, because I wouldn’t be there to look out for my brother,” says Marcus. “But on the first day, my brother called me to say, ‘Yo, this group of three or four dudes at a bar were staring and pointing at me, and Juan walked up to them and told them I was his fucking brother. You don’t get to laugh at him.’ From then on, I knew he was in good hands.”

“There were a lot of nights where he’d come over with one of his homies, Luis,” says DeMarco. “We had this one hot sauce in the fridge that was deadly. One tip of a chopstick would make you curl up in the fetal position. But Cola could take it. And Luis would just drink the shit which is insane. For some reason, every time he came to the crib, he’d be like, ‘Get the sauce.’”

It was around this time that Urango began to produce his warm, synth-laden solo material under the name Vox Disco, capturing the attention of Paris label Record Makers, who suggested he change his moniker to Cola Boyy. At one of his early shows in 2017, he also crossed paths with Ross Harris, who was immediately drawn to Urango’s retro fashion sense and passion for community organizing.

“To me, he was like a person I’d wanted to meet my entire life,” says Harris. “Every single thing that he represented, I aligned with so closely. We quickly realized we were meant to work together.”

“I remember at first, people would be like, ‘You didn’t make this…this has to be a sample!’ And he was like, ‘Fuck you, motherfucker, this is my shit,’” laughs DeMarco. “That was his attitude. He had a distinct vocal sound, too. It’s strange music, but it’s his own lane. It’s just Cola!”

Cola’s debut EP, Black Boogie Neon, was met with great critical acclaim, and spawned his best-known track, “Penny Girl.” The record even caught the attention of the organizers behind Coachella, who offered him a spot on the festival lineup. Harris recalls that the offer initially left Urango conflicted, torn between the clear boost to his career and the caustic conservatism of Philip Anschutz, owner of the entertainment group behind the event. Ultimately, he decided to proceed, but with his own twist. Coachella asked Harris and Urango to produce bumper videos for the livestream, giving the duo a budget of a few thousand dollars.

“I remember telling him, ‘Hey man, I can produce this video for nothing,’” says Harris. “We’ll make a little set, film you, and interview your homies. It’ll take an afternoon, and then we’ll give the money to someone who needs it.”

They filmed the video, in which Cola Boyy stated that “capitalist motherfuckers get what they deserve” on the live feed, cashed the check, and handed thousands of dollars in a paper bag to his anti-gentrification organizers in East L.A. Families with disabilities were also given passes to the fest.

“We were really able to turn it into a positive experience,” says Harris.

Urango’s whole family was also in attendance.

“He just crushed it,” says Marcus. “He had a whole packing band, and we watched him just kind of own this whole crowd. Some people had never heard of him in their lives, but they were dancing all over the place, especially when ‘Penny Girl’ dropped. That song just never failed to win people over.”

John Carroll Kirby, who played keyboard on many Cola Boyy tracks, attests to the magic of “Penny Girl.”

“It’s closer to a love song than some of his other stuff,” says Kirby. “It shows another side to him. He was a romantic and loving guy. He was really good at simple, catchy melodies and making major-key nostalgia sound bittersweet. One of the other songs we did together, ‘To Be Rich Should Be a Crime,’ was a major-key reggae track, but it’s talking about anti-capitalist ideas.”

Quit to Play Chess, the title of Cola Boyy’s new record, was inspired by artist Marcel Duchamp’s early retirement from “retinal art,” abandoning purely aesthetic concerns to explore the cerebral potential of readymade sculpture and the game of chess.

“It’s groovy,” says Kirby of Quit to Play Chess. “As always, it’s as idiosyncratic as Cola Boyy’s personality.”

According to Harris, Cola Boyy’s generosity and care for his community live on alongside his music.

“Right before he passed away, he sent a friend of his named Miles to help be my adult autistic son’s caregiver during the day,” he says. “He’s been so helpful to me and my family. Even after Matthew’s gone, like his presence and his thoughtfulness are still with us.”

On April 21, 2025, the city of Oxnard held its first Cola Boyy Day, featuring a Sea Lions set, a listening part of Quit to Play Chess, and art tributes.

“It always hits you pretty hard when you see something amazing,” says Marcus. “I’m looking at a flyer Matt Volz did for the ‘Babylon’ music video, which a bunch of us helped do. Some of these things you look at, and it’s just so beautiful.”