We'd bet a lot of you grew up like some of us did, at a time when the phrase "import tuning" made absolutely no sense, and the sun rose and set on a world of V-8-powered American muscle. If your introduction to the gearhead ways didn't come in the form of a Mustang, Nova, or GTO your dad or uncle was stuffing a big block into for the drags, it was probably his Impala, Monte Carlo, or Caddy with flawless bodywork and a dipped undercarriage, built to steal the limelight of weekend shows. If so, like us, you're probably also familiar with the confusion shared by his generation when modified imports began dotting the horizon.
Take the Civic, for example; unlike classic domestic steel that was designed to go fast and then modified to go faster, or the rare gems that could be restored and flipped for monster profits, the Civic was cheap, practical, mass produced, and tinkered with by a crop of upstart tuners bored with their poor performance. But once aftermarket caught up with enthusiasm, custom Civics taking nearly every conceivable form (and not always the good ones) packed shows in numbers surpassing their lowrider rivals, while those built for performance regularly gave small-block-swapped Detroit Iron a run for its money down the strip and through rural America's twisty two-lanes. "The new hot rod" was what the older generation called them, struggling to define the dualistic new breed, and often comparing Honda's ubiquitous B18C to the venerable Chevy 350. Little did they know the import culture that would evolve would be far different from theirs. Little did we know it would come full circle.
David Andrade's introduction to cars was through friends and family members who built hot rods and perfected lowriders-a thirst for speed, coupled with a respect for clean customization, was every bit a part of his early years as the air he breathed.
"My first car was actually a Maxima," he recalls. "It was quicker than most cars, and all my friends and were big into audio and luxury." His was lowered on blades, painted Bentley black, and stuffed with an impressive investment of ICE-comfortable, but not the kind of car one could feel safe parking in the shadier parts of the city. He bought an EF Civic from a cousin as a beater, and after smashing around town daily in its bare-bones interior, banging gears and revving its HF engine sky-high, something clicked. "It was slow as hell and riced out," he recalls, "but I remember thinking, 'This is it. This is what a car should be about!'"
He loved the Spartan allure of the hatch, and saw huge potential for performance in the burgeoning Honda aftermarket. But he couldn't turn his back on his roots. "I've liked the look of the EJ Civic since day one," he says. "I like the sporty design of the coupe, and how it came in a fully loaded trim unlike the hatch." Once a good deal came up on an EX in the neighborhood, David snatched it up with intentions to build his dream ride. Only one problem: The Civic was shitty, a product of import tuning's ricey past. "The previous owners had some 18s on it, a cracked-up fiberglass front bumper and sides, a white interior that was flaking apart," he says, "and it had been in a couple of accidents. It was trashed." Over the next three years he replaced the exterior components with USDM factory stock, converted the interior to black JDM EM1 Si status, swapped a JDM B16A in its semi-tucked bay, painted the whole thing a custom olive green inside and out, and added Mugen MF10s to the hubs.