Holiday Play was first performed in a staged reading at 65 Hope Street Gallery in Williamsburg, Brooklyn in November of 2003, starring Séamus McNally & Angela Dee.
Holiday Play
(a one scene)
A man sits alone at a table.
Man
A holiday today.
A woman enters.
Woman
What?
Man
A holiday. We should be giving thanks. Family.
Woman
(perplexed) There's no holiday today.
Man
Yes, there is, the last Thursday of the month.
Woman
Oh, no, the fourth Thursday.
Man
(confused) No. What do you mean? There's no more than four.
Woman
Sometimes there's a fifth.
Man
Is there?
Woman
Yes.
Man
Well . . . but it's the last, the last of the month.
Woman
Celebrate if you want.
Man
I'm not celebrating, I'm only saying.
Woman
You're celebrating.
Man
I'm not. There's no family.
Woman
'Cause this isn't the holidays.
Man
It's the thought. The thought counts.
Woman
Thought?
Man
Yes, of everyone, together, caring.
Woman
Caring for everyone?
Man
Your fellow Man
. Whomever.
Woman
And you're caring for them?
Man
Well, you know, it's the holidays. We should be family.
Woman
With our family?
Man
With! Be! It's the thought.
Woman
We should be family?
Man
You and I?
Woman
The two, or all?
Man
Well, you know, any of us. Like family. Celebrating.
Woman
You know you have to celebrate together?
Man
I know, that's what I'm saying.
Woman
Be together.
Man
That's what I'm saying.
Woman
You're just lonely, scared.
Man
(laughing) I'm not scared, you know, I'm just saying.
Woman
Oh, just saying. About family.
Man
Hey, it's natural, right? You too?
Woman
I have a family. We celebrated, already.
Man
Already? You went home?
Woman
I am home.
Man
Yeah, yeah, I know, we are home. But you were with your family?
Woman
Oh, yeah. Good times, stories, food.
Man
(confused) So you went home?
Woman
I was here the whole time!
Man
Here?
Woman
Yes.
Man
Here in town?
Woman
Yes.
Man
And where was I?
Woman
You were there! You don't remember?
Man
No.
Woman
You have no appreciation of family. You're a horrible son!
Man
(after a pause) There were aunts there?
Woman
We were family.
Man
And it was a holiday?
Woman
You missed it. You didn't realize.
Man
That it was a holiday?
Woman
And was family.
Man
It was our family?
Woman
All of our families. It wasn't just yours.
Man
No. I didn't think so.
Woman
I have to look into cooking.
Man
For the holidays? But it's not a holiday.
Woman
There's another one coming! There are lots of them.
Man
Not the one I thought?
Woman
No. It's gone.
Man
I missed it.
Woman
Yes.
Man
That makes me sad.
Woman
You can help cook.
Man
I'd like that. It reminds me of autumn at home.
Woman
I need to get started.
She leaves.
Man
(to himself) I'll help you cook, and celebrate.
He sits quietly at the table.
Man
(sings, to the tune of "But Not For Me")
"They're telling stories
But not to me.
They're singing Carols
But not for me.
And eating supper
But not with me."
He ceases singing.
Man
Is it so hard to believe?
The holidays upon us.
Man
(continuing, looking offstage) Hey, I never liked going home. Does that mean I'm there? Or missing it? What are we cooking? Are there "ballgames" and "turkey"? Those birds are so dry, I don't like them, poor things. And we should stay away from pie, gets you fat. (pause) Are you leaving?
Curtain
(c) Copyright 2001 by Douglas Singleton
Common - "Electric Circus" (MCA)
Beyond hip-hop, this is some layered, funk-a-psychedelic-MC-flow-shit. Electronic, future leaning, weird, sonically textured. Com's flow is killer as usual, as it has been from day one. Quirky in a way hip-hop records aren't supposed to be. Mad weird: Bitches Brew, The Doors, Last Poets, Prince, new wave, Parliament, gospel soul revivals. A lot of help from friends: ?uestlove, Mary J., Jay Dee (Dilla), his love Erykah, the Neptunes, James Poysner and various Soulquarians, Cee-Lo and Jill Scott, all in trippy spaced out Hendrix new black soul mode. When I first heard about the direction "Circus" was aiming to take I was like, "Oh, no, Com, no", then later, "Well, maybe". First heard it and was terrified, shit, a few steps backwards I thought, will-get-no-love-from-the-streets or the pages of The Source. But then listened and got it, yeah, flows, a gutsy move on Common's part, surely another step forward for brother-man from Chicago. Lately I've even thought it brilliant. A MC's ride through an imagined spoken word ghetto heaven. It might rival "Voodoo" in its forward leaning soul histrionics, might it not? (Both were recorded at Hendrix's Electric Lady Studios---ghosts abound, Jimi was indeed a rock star.) Maybe the weirdest, most important hip-hop record since "Aquemini", "People's Instinctive Travels", "Endtroducing" or maybe "A Prince Amongst Thieves". Common---Master of Ceremonies, the groove, and of composition to boot. (And brother man finally comes to terms with his homophobia, so it seems.) Back to back LPs that indeed don't sound the same. (What is it with these mid-western Negroes and their weird art projects?)
So Solid Crew - "They Don't Know" (Independiete)
If there were any doubts about the whole 2-Step thing then this should close the door on such doubts. This is the real deal. Hard, melodic, flowing / Electronic, ragga, relentless. This is urgent music that never quits. One thing all great music has, whether it be "hard" or "soft", "intelligent" or mindless booty shaking head thrashing, Bob Dylan, Derrick May, Bo Diddley or Nirvana, experimental, whatever, is that it is URGENT, has this sense of flowing urgency to it. So Solid Crew's beats, the various MC's flows, the kicking drum patterns, are all so urgent, sure of themselves and layered that the first two times I listened I found it hard to process. I couldn't believe that yet another of these hyped UK offerings had actually lived up to and maybe even surpassed its advance billing. First of all, So Solid Crew is like an army-there are about 40 of them (actually 27 are listed, with photos, within the sleeve of this record). They are akin to an urban British ragga Wu-Tang Clan as produced by MJ Cole and filtered through jungle/techno culture (they are actually produced by members Megaman, Synth, Mr. Shabz, and DJ Swiss). But 2-Step. Not soft, girly 2-Step but the melodic hard jungle type. If Prince, DJ Premier and Juan Atkins made a drum 'n bass record full of soulful jump-up breakbeats, Method Man, Shabba Ranks, and every freestyle MC you ever loved flowing over the top of it with Faith Evans, El Debarge, and Mary J. Blige singing and spitting rhymes over it too, it might sound something like So Solid Crew. ("They Don't Know" is truly a collection of singles the various factions of So Solid put out over the last few years.) The group gave a live performance in the Pinky Room of Centro-Fly last January that was insane (only 4 members of the Crew-Megaman, MC Romeo, DJ Swiss and one of the ladies whose name I didn't catch were actually cleared for visa entry into the States). Stories of various members getting arrested, in and out of prison, wild 2-Step orgies, clan vendettas-simply add to the crew's infamy. If it were not for Moodyman and hip-hop on these shores I'd up and proclaim that the Brits got us beat, if this is the shit they are doing. They may have truly taken things to another level. Keep it up and I might have to haul my ass over to London, it's been a long time, see what's up. Don't believe? Try it. Fuck everything else. So Solid indeed.
Flaming Lips - "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots" (Warner Bros.)
High (anti)concept graphic novel. Acoustic orchestral space punk opera? Drug induced Asian love hallucination? Conceptual anime supergirl dreambirth? Screaming androgynous band death/rebirth? I don't know, but this record is weird-o-rama. Melodic guitars, lots of strings, wall shaking bass, and high register moaning. (And is it my imagination or does frontman Wayne Coyne's singing voice often sound like Maurice White from Earth, Wind and Fire?) Some of "Yoshimi" sounds like Flaming Lips-tinged drum-n-bass. Some of it sounds anti-punk spacey garage musical outtakes. Impeccable production. It most definitely does not "rock", though it does do something tangential of which I'm not quite sure how to define. This is a beautiful, optimistic record (based something on a Japanese friend of theirs who suddenly died and the band not initially being able to decipher the translated message from her sister relating the news.) It is about spring and summer resurrecting life. "Do you realize we are floating in space?" "Do you realize that everyone you know someday will die?" Did Yoshimi win? Did the robots win? (Was the evil robot actually in love with Yoshimi?) Did the Flaming Lips win?
Le Tigre - "Remixes" (Mr. Lady)
An EP of remixes from Le Tigre's 2001 album, "Feminist Sweepstakes". A collection of really cool electronic interpretations of their already girl punk electronic interpretations, by disparate futuristic sources---Swim With The Dolphins, Reid Speed ("Reid's Aphro-Dykey Mix" of "Dyke March 2001"). Truly strong shit---tuff women punk, hard, filtered (better than Peaches). Le Tigre used to be the side project of Kathleen Hanna from Bikini Kill but has evolved into her main deal now, rightfully so, it's really interesting stuff. Citing this is just an excuse, a sonically potent one, to put Le Tigre on the list, you can never go wrong with them.
Cody Chestnutt - "The Headphone Masterpiece" (Ready Set Go!)
Raw, ghetto rock 'n roll. Naked, crude, electro-folk music. Overhyped to such an extent as to in no way be able to live up to the hype. Way too long and in need of some serious, serious editing. Personal, funny, "coarse", in a touching way (it was recorded by the man himself in his bedroom). Naïve and silly. If Curtis Mayfield failed to get a contract and decided to record all of his '69 through '75 output in a basement somewhere it might sound like this. Rock 'n deep soul brothers strike black-sometimes I hate that I missed '70's era AM radio. Sly Stone, Simon & Garfunkel, Al B. Sure, the Beatles, disco era Prince, Stone Temple Pilots, some homemade electro. (Get the eclectic weirdness?) A sprawling "masterpiece". For such a huge, mammoth recording (double CD, almost 100 minutes, 36 songs) it actually gets stronger as it goes along, odd for overblown double albums, which usually fade, but by CD 2, or "Volume II", Cody starts to kick the shit in and gets his groove going. Heartfelt, beyond underground, the ultimate bang for your buck. (This is what Lenny Kravitz always wanted but could never be.)
"Red Hot + Riot" - Various Artists (MCA)
Interpretations of Fela's music. This is one of the best in this series of recordings to raise money for AIDS awareness and research since the original was made way back in 1990 (also one of those coincidentally to cover the work of an individual artist, in that case Cole Porter). Peter Kane was pumping tracks from this record at Wyanoka (R.I.P.) almost two years ago, specifically the "Water No Get Enemy" track with Femi (the son), D'Angelo, Macy Gray, Roy Hargrove, Niles Rodgers, and Positive Force. The track is so hot as to have become the Wyanoka house anthem for well over a year. I would have to take a break whenever it came on 'cause my spirit would just "zone out" for a bit trying to get inside the groove. It took me six months to deconstruct the various "movements" within the chunks of melody. Crunk this shit be, primal. Baaba Maal, Mixmaster Mike, Kelis, Cheikh Lô, Meshell Ndegeocello, Taj Mahal, Common, Yerba Buena, everybody getting their groove on inside classic Fela. It's like a four year long afro-beat jam session interspersed with soul, hip-hop, and spiritual bleeding. Fela, who died of AIDS related illness in 1997, would have had it no other way.
The Roots - "Phrenology" (MCA)
A rock 'n roll record, a pop-soul record, a "hip-hop" record. Sonic based musical explorations-a completely weird throw down. "Things Fall Apart" was a band jam record (lyrics spit all over the top). "Illadelph Halflife" was more a hip-hop "elements" record, electronic, tables & microphones (& mixing boards). But this? Odd, sonic tableaus, musical searching, ditties. But as strange as it is sometimes it may well be the most "coherent" Roots record ever. Don't get me wrong, I've always loved and completely dug the purity of these boys simply spitting verses over live hip-hop jams, a little deck pyrotechnics here, a little beatboxing in the mix, a little acid jazz there, but this record is so focused and coherent. You know what I mean? I've always felt with the Roots that the "band" was somewhere in the background, behind everything, you know, behind hip-hop. Here, The Roots, the band, seem out in front, it be their record. And that's mighty cool. Where's the Rolling Stone cover? Differentiating between this record, the homemade Cody Chestnutt (who contributes a track to "Phrenology") and the Common record (produced by ?uest) is really difficult because although they are completely different recordings in style and temperament they are all part of the same wave, and all excellent---one could replace any other on this list.
Liars - "They Threw Us All In A Trench and Stuck A Monument on Top" (Blast First/Mute Records)
I first got acquainted with these dudes after watching them blow the Yeah Yeah Yeahs the fuck off the stage on a couple of occasions. They rock hard and dear---the usual punk noise screamin' art maniac shit. Um, the only overhyped New York band I actually like. They finish the record with a 30 minute sonic trance opus that should get their punk cards revoked and a noisy "sonic bastards" slot opening for Sonic Elders in the can (oops, they already got that slot). Does the last track qualify as techno? This is a crazy record.
Derrick L. Carter - "Squaredancing in a Roundhouse" (Classic)
I shouldn't even be commenting on this record I dig this motherfucka's pyrotechnic genius up on the decks so dearly (shit, all things Chicago). Nevertheless D. Carter's long awaited LP as a producer, a half decade in the making, is a house gem I relish with the spirit of an old club kid. Echoes of Green Velvet and Prince (how many times am I going to reference Prince?). This is true Chicago inspired house. In a world filled with Felix da Housecat ultimately going "electro". With the rock 'n roll crowd hijacking the electro-beat thing and turning it into some kind of new wave rock thing it is refreshing for a DJ to go back and remind us what true house music is in it's pure form. Funky electronic 4/4 grooves. Breakbeats. No Basement Jaxx radio pop shit. No "techno" car commercials with yuppie ravers "breakin'" in passenger seats. Just funked out Chicago grooves. House motherfuckin' music: "1986" circa the 21st century. I've written before that Derrick Carter is truly one of the finest DJs in the world, his style a form of jackin' Chicago house that traverses the ground between techno and house, between soul, experimental disco and funk-and then obliterates that line. He is one of those few DJs one would not be surprised to hear spin anything in his set, old disco, hard techno, nu-soul tracks, jazz, hip-hop---his sets escape definition. D. Carter can spin soft and diva-ish, he can spin funky, he can spin hard. And yet it is always the rawest definition of what house should be---futuristic and soulful. As a producer his music possesses all of these qualities-rich and metallic, "big Queen" and ghetto. He teases with "Boompty Boomp Theme", there is a point around the 5 minute mark where it kicks in so hard as to have reached the supreme apex of mesmerizing groove, the very definition of the divine (peep the long extended version). "Where You At?" is hard attack-mode house. "If I" is classic Chicago garage that should be tearing up the dance floor at Shelter as we speak. "New Wave Punk Out" is a little taste of the best "Kittenz and Thee Glitz" and its ilk could ever offer. Forget all that fake retro electro "un-house", "un-techno" shit perpetrated out in Greenpoint and Williamsburg and get your ass onto that road that lies between Detroit and Chicago. (Out in the Bronx? Jersey? Fort Greene? Lower East Side?) "All Dreams Collide" and "While Corey Slept" are both funked-out trance meditations, one-upping both Daft Punk and Underworld. "A Hope" harkens back to mid-80's Chicago house as if sung by Luther Vandross produced by Juan Akins. So funky you could rip your hair out. The track "Squaredancing in a Roundhouse" is like some crazy Cab Calloway inspired rhythm romp with rolling "private eye"-noir bass kicks and jump-'yo-ass-up-grooves: soul-possessing. Remember that shit you used to lose your head to back in '89? ('92 and '95, or shit, underground in 2002?) Here it be. You want to dance? You want to feel the groove? Come get the shit, it ain't gone nowhere.
Wilco - "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot" (Nonesuch)
I know it's something of a cliché to like this record, I know. The self-absorbed documentary movie. The whole record label debacle---half the band quitting on Jeff Tweedy and all. But it's really good, me like. Alterna-country "Pet Sounds" noise. This is like the American Radiohead record except more organic and human, more country (better?). Anthony from Double Happiness said he didn't like it 'cause it sounded like "house music", which is ludicrous but I guess tells you something about "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot" and why I like it so much. (And why straight guitar rock people might question what exactly is going on here, familiar, but not.) It's got all of these subliminal state-of-America sprinkled pronouncements-way before the WTC shit and the wars. Emotional lyrical song moments that morph into abstract noise clouds ("Jesus, etc."). R.E.M. spent about ten years trying to make this record, and never really managed to pull it off. I get dreams of being in some hick bar down in the South playing pool with good 'ol boys and maybe Tricky and all of us enjoying this record together. All of us. I have dreams like that.
Tabla Beat Science - "Live in San Francisco at Stern Grove" (Palm Pictures)
One of the things I miss most about San Francisco is the live drums everywhere---at parties, in clubs, on the streets. Live music in San Francisco often means more than just dudes and rock guitars---instruments from all over the world are everywhere, jazz, afro-beat, trip-hop, folk, norteca, drum 'n bass, oftentimes bastard mixtures of these. This live recording captured at the Stern Grove Festival during the summer of 2001 is an example of that musical stew spirit you often find out in northern California, in this instance an Indian/East African/experimental beats hybrid orchestrated by Bill Laswell. Tabla, sarangi, synthesizers, various percussive instruments, turntables, drums, "laptops", this is an organic, rich blending of traditional musical forms and the future. Exhilarating music. Along with Laswell on bass are Zakir Hussain playing the tabla, Ustad Sultan Khan and Ejigayehu "Gigi" Shibabaw on vocals, Karsh Kale on tabla and drums, along with a myriad cast of others. This is a really great record, I'm really pleased to have it. After initially listening to it last summer (at Ke Ke's place) I spent most of the rest of the year trying to hunt down a copy. It wasn't easy, but "Live in San Francisco" being a double album with over 100 minutes of music makes it well worth the hunt. The record's sleeve has this really cool "human animatronic" cover painted by graffiti artist Doze (Green) that's mighty cool too.
J-Live - "All of the Above" (Coup d'État)
Peter Kane hipped me to J-Live, I have no idea how I'd managed to miss him before. This shit is just pure, rich hip-hop. There should be a term other than "old school" for hip-hop like this because though it undoubtedly harkens back to the spirit and musical temperance of, say, pre-'92 hip-hop, it is so very obviously, and intelligently, of the now. Indeed "true-school" is the better term. The track "Satisfied" may well contain the only words put to record about the World Trade Centers falling that made anything close to sense to me:
"It ain't right them cops and them firemen died
The shit is real tragic, but it damn sure ain't magic
It won't make the brutality disappear
It won't pull equality from behind your ear
It won't make a difference in a two-party country
If the president cheats to win another four years
Now don't get me wrong, there's no place I'd rather be
The grass ain't greener on the other genocide
But tell Huey Freeman don't forget to cut the lawn
And uproot the weeds
Cuz I'm not satisfied"
The "I'm a Rapper" interlude is one of the more original rap album "interludes" of that ilk I've heard. If T.S. Eliot wrote hip-hop interludes they might come off something like it. Live instrumentation, robust songlines-this is hip-hop as music (or music as hip-hop). To show you how rich the hip-hop galaxy is in Brooklyn let me just say that in 2002 I came across two great artists who I'd known next to nothing about previously, both of whom practically base their careers out of my neighborhood (Sensational & J-Live, who teaches at a school in Bed-Stuy I think). A great J-live track to download (though it's not on "All of the Above") is the DJ Premier produced, "The Best Part", just a classic, classic track. Download it, and then buy "All of the Above" and see if you still think hip-hop is in "trouble" at the beginning of the century. It's not. (There are 4 hip-hop records on this "list" and that's tightly defined. There could easily be three more.) This is one of at least, say, twelve different directions gone in by various shades of the hip-hop community at this point.
Lauryn Hill - "Unplugged 2.0" (Columbia)
Yep. Before this record came out I was lying in bed with someone one morning and got to talking about politics and art. Using Lauryn as an example I felt that artists had to guard against allowing ambition to play out political convictions overwhelm their work. I worried that Lauryn (I had sensed it on "Miseducation") would succumb to spouting her political agenda and just drown the life out of all of her music. Her tour to support "Miseducation" had been filled with readings from the Bible and all kind of preachy pronouncements about spirituality and devils, the music industry, bad men, having abortions, etc. What I said on this morning was that I sensed that this most talented of sisters was gonna let all of these passions and emotions overwhelm her work (instead of letting them flower and subtly strengthen it). When "Unplugged" came out I felt my prediction vindicated. It was practically an emotional therapy session onstage, she alone, ten minute long speeches, very little music. No "artistry", just "me me me" and her agenda. I felt vindicated. I listened, just a little (not too deeply), and felt a little sorry for her. Oh well, she'd hit back probably on the next studio album, she could afford it. It was a friend of mine, Laura Weber, who offhandedly one day asked if I had been listening to Lauryn's acoustic record and when I said that I hadn't really paid attention to it suggested that I sit down and give it a good listen. She herself really, really liked it. So I went out and bought it, used, there were lots of them around (I remember buying a copy of "Bitches Brew" along with it). So this is it: I am so glad that I went back and gave this record another, complete listen. It's not "good" in the traditional sense of the word (whatever that means). It's good in that it may be one of the bravest recording endeavors I've witnessed. It is raw and bare. It is brave and quirky and sophomoric and brilliant. I remember saying last year of the film "Memento" that intense effort and ambition should always be rewarded, taking chances. And here Lauryn has surely taken a chance with her career, taken hold of it in hopes of redefining it. How many artists these days would be brave enough to challenge their audience in this way? I'm sure Kurt wanted to. Sometimes Lauryn plays guitar badly, and all mistakes are left intact on the recording. Some of the songs are tedious and basic, but it is all so heartfelt and the essence of who she now is that if you listen. Listen. It's like punk rock. A black woman's God-spiritual punk rock. Is it as good as Erykah's "Mama's Gun"? No. But it is a revelation. I really, really, enjoy listening to this record now. (Thanks, Laura.)
Electric Turn to Me (Demo EP)
This was a three song demo by former members of Laddio Bolocko and The Mars Volta. Atmospheric, crushing art rock 'n roll. My man Marcus Degrazia, Silke on powerful vocals, Blake on the skins, and James Wilk playing lead guitar (Silke adds to the wall of sound on guitar too). Cool and intricate punk rock with ever present filtered keyboards (those old seventies keyboards). I'd say punk rock-like Doors but they might not like it. Deep, thick, atmospheric moody rock. Siouxsie meets My Bloody Valentine, really smart shit that smashes you up against the wall. The live show is fuckin' killer and visually stunning (done by some cat named "N. Klersfeld" who looks like Grizzly Adams, projects the visuals in-time and live. A fifth Beatle? Perhaps the sixth---the have a pretty sophisticated modern expressionistic dancer along always also, sexy as hell. Erin, darling?). That Blake is simply a motherfucker on the drums too, should be arrested, dangerous. Can't wait for the LP to be finished, the "Electric Turn To Me Experience" is what it should all be called. Man, New York is getting sick musically.
X-ecutioners - "Built From Scratch" (Loud)
"Ol' school" / Futuristic / Scratchologists / Rockin' hard / Electro. True DJs still harboring a deep respect for the MC (remember it was supposed to be two turntables AND a microphone). Hip-hop beats in all the glorious guises. I dig this shit so much better than the DJ Shadow record or even RJD2 (and why I'll always be partial to Q-Bert-the humor). It's just that it's fun too-gets that spirit of back-in-the-day hip-hop goin', you know? Can you imagine anybody at Nell's or "Sneaker Pimpin'" fooled into dancing to Shadow? But this shit just might get 'em-cerebral and ass shaking.
Roni Size - "Touching Down" (Full Cycle)
I was never a huge fan of Reprazent. "New Forms" was undoubtedly a great record with some classic, crushing tunes, jazzy breakbeat gold, but was aimless in spots. It never moved me as much as, say, any of the Goldie records. I always knew Size could rock it up on the decks, and of course the Full Cycle releases banged thick like none other could, but I never expected him to bust with a disk of such ripping underground tunes as this. Size strikes back with hard ass intense Full Cycle stuff. Hard, rhythmically complex, relentless. This shit is wondrous ragga snatch your ass jungle, rip 'ya jugular. Sometimes I think the only reason the musical press pushes the thesis that "electronica" or whatever they are trying to label it this month "failed" in the marketplace is because not only do they not get it, and are frightened of that which they cannot experience spiritually (10,000 kids raving to house or jungle), but because the recording industry has never been able to "define", bottle, and market the music. If you can't be tossed into a category at Tower then you're trouble 'cause you can't be sold properly. Where's the sexy asses? Brooding boy bands? (I find the whole Paul Oakenfold marketed long player record laughable. Whether it's good or not is beside the point---his record has so little to do with anything near what he actually does for his core audience as to be made by an alien AOR replicant.) The idea of the DJ set, only very loosely "song" or "tune" based, doesn't lend itself well to pop radio, or rock 'n roll concerts. "Touching Down" is the prototype for DJ musical long players really---brother man crafting his own beats and then spinning them himself---a continuous mix of his own original material. 2003 and I'm still listening to jungle---guess the kids are alright after all: still flipping the shit if anybody's listening.
Maximum Penalty - "Uncle Sham" (I Scream)
Deceptive. I went into listening to this shit thinking I was gonna get my eardrums blown the fuck out, bleeding (yeah!), by some paint peeling nihilistic speed metal, and don't get me wrong, this shit rocks hard, it does, but there is more going on here. Hard and crushing but underneath is an amazing level of sophisticated musicianship. It's not even underneath really---it flows through every facet of the recording. Funky , symphonic, speed punk. James Wadud beats the hell out of the skins like some Jazz trained Dave Grohl slumming in metal. (And I'm sorry dude but his voice undoubtedly reminds me of Anthony Kiedis, only rawer.) The basslines are really, really intricate, some heavy power funk. This shit is like Living Color meets Metallica, or Helmet. Amidst all the crushing guitars are dispersed African percussion, pianos, and acoustic appregios (never too out front, subtly included). There is no doubt in my mind that these guys listen to James Brown as much as they listen to Agnostic Front. Morally noble too. You listen to the music and think they're screaming about junkies in the East Village and smashing heads in the streets (okay, they're singing about that too) but if you listen closely enough (or read the cryptic lyric sheet) you realize they're talking about love, twelve-step programs, and opening one's mind. Can there be such a thing as moral nihilism? Out in Europe in 2001, I think these guys put the record out themselves in the states last year. A bouncer at Happy Ending actually handed this CD to me one night after I complained I wasn't getting my world rocked hard enough these days.
4Hero - "Creating Patterns" (Talkin Loud)
You know that phrase, "intelligent dance music" (IDM)? In many ways it is a tired cliché. (Intelligent? How about good or bad?) IDM is a way of describing certain types of music that aspire to something deeper and more "meaningful", a more complex type of "electronica", dance music, whatever. Well, in a way the 4Hero record makes me want to describe it as "ISM", Intelligent Soul Music. I've thought about it a lot and this isn't a drum 'n bass record really, or a 2-step record, or even "house" music. Its sensibilities lie strictly in the world of soul music. And yet it is such a robust and intelligent interpretation of what true soul music can be that I can see why 4Hero characterizes it (or it is characterized by others) as being some kind of hip drum 'n bass thing. Chuck D once said that the reason he liked LL Cool J's "Mama Said Knock You Out" so much was because it was one of the few records he could listen to with his wife and kids and have all of them enjoy. It was hard enough for him, but also "soft" and pop enough for his family. In many ways this is the same kind of joy I get out of listening to "Creating Patterns". Not only is it an example of intricate 21st century beats at work (what I desire and need), but it is also a riff on classic soul music too, certainly. I could imagine listening to this with my parents and all of us liking and getting something from it---a momentous accomplishment in my mind. (Others might not see this as a virtue, but I do, like watching "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" or "Seven"---working on multiple levels). There I go again, dissimilar people listening to music together and getting different (or the same) things from it on multiplelevels. Or, yeah, perhaps the same things. Creating Patterns, indeed.
DJ Sets 2002
Oris Jay, Baktun, June 6
"Nü-Breaks", "West London Broken Beat", "Breaks", whatever you want to call it this brother rocked the hell out of New York this night, his first time spinning here in the States. This was another Drive-By party thrown by Dinesh that caught a lot of us by surprise. It was really the first time I'd become aware of and was finally able to place why this was not, or was slightly different than, 2-Step. It is like German techno-electro meeting ragga 2-Step. "Broken beat" because it flips the switch between different types of beats-2-Step, lazy breakbeats, aggressive jungle, 4/4-it can be any of various beats at any given moment. Warm like dancehall, hard like Belgian techno, funky like Bambaatta electro, intricate and soothing like Detroit, intelligent and robotic like IDM. It can be everything and all over the place but always relentless and real, has its own vibe. Broken beat. Earlier in the year I kept hearing beats like this all over the place without knowing what it was I was hearing or how to define it (see the 4 DJs I saw out on the patio during the Winter Music Conference down below). I was continually trying to place what it was I was actually hearing. This is a "head" genre, pure improvisational deck breaks. Oris Jay was wicked this night; I can only imagine how he must rock this shit back in the UK. It was a rainy, rainy night. There were only a few of us there, but we got the unfiltered gank given us. A drive-by "pop" indeed.
Derrick May, Metropolitan Pavilion, June 20
You never know when Mayday is gonna bring his A game or just kind of go through the motions (even going through the motions he's better on the decks than 95% of the world's DJs). This was such a weird gig, some World Smirnoff Vodka "promotional tour" crap. It had take-your-money-sell-you-something for little kiddie-ravers written all over it. But low and behold, not only does it turn out to be a cool party, albeit weird, but May proceeds to turn out one of those magical sets only he is capable of---funky, deep, deep, Detroit techno. The best I've heard him in a while. Seemed like every head in the city was at this gig. Derrick threw down and rocked us like the Jedi knight he is. 2-step and broken beat are deep, jungle is still the futuristic promised land, Chicago house is the foundation, but Detroit techno, when it is done properly, as it was this night, is the pinnacle, still, our nirvana, where sultry robotics meet plantation spirituals.
So Solid Crew at Drive-By, Centro-Fly, January 18
So it's a cold Friday in January and you're supposed to go to the Pinky Room in Centro-Fly to catch yet another "next big thing" from the UK, yet another 2-Step crew. You almost don't go. But see, they don't call these cats "So Solid" for nothing. This gig was by far the best DJ and MC thing I'd seen in a long time, so much so that it was unfair for all of those who missed it. Real, real, 2-Step, hard as hell, melodic like jungle Minnie Riperton meeting Parliament, and MCs with the most wicked flows I've heard live in a hell of a long time---hip-hop MCs included. This was the shit, the shit, the shit. These motherfuckers are a 30 member strong crew, a third of whom are always in and out of jail for some thing or other. Only four of them were cleared for visa entry into the states---two MCs, Megaman and Romeo along with a DJ, Swiss, as well as a female MC whose name I didn't catch. The UK comes and blows the fuck out of New York's mind.
?uestlove, Shine, "The Lesson", August 22
So ?uest rolls into town and decides he's gonna give a little soul and hip-hop history "lesson" to the masses---for three hours (actually, he must have played longer). All I know is that the joint was packed and people were groovin' hard. At some point he started throwin' down mad old school disco, soul, and rare classics and heads just lost it, t'was sick. I was so happy and got so drunk that I don't even remember the last hour or so. He was on when I got there, and was still going strong when I stumbled out. This is what going to parties is supposed to be like.
EggFooYoung, T.S.Heritage, Aura and(or) Polaris, at Tanja in Miami for the World of Drum 'n Bass IV afterparty during the Winter Music Conference, May 26
This was out on the patio at the afterparty for the World of Drum 'n Bass IV gig down in Miami during Winter Music Conference 2002. These fucking kids spun what I can only describe as "breakbeat hard electro", or this is what it sounded like to me. Marco from Beatcamp later told me they were spinning, quote, "hip-hop, IDM, and 2-Step", but when I was back there it was too hard and almost techno-y drum 'n bass to be 2-Step, though it was indeed funky and weighed down heavily with breakbeats. It was hard, full of funky electro-like runs, and break(or broken)beat centered, the BPMs way up there though. It felt like something different, like some new UK fusion shit. Anyway, the two dudes I saw tag-teaming back there were from this group of DJs---EggFooYoung, T.S.Heritage, Aura and Polaris, I don't know who exactly. It was the most intriguing musical excursion of the Winter Music Conference I experienced, if not the whole year. (If anyone knows where I can hear more of this type of thing here in New York give me a shout, I'd love to hit it.)
Carl Craig at Mon-daze, Sapphire Lounge, March 19
One thing that's usually so moving about these "special guest" gigs at Mon-daze is that you are so keyed up in anticipation of whether the DJ rumored to be spinning is actually gonna show up or not that when they do you are already so primed for a special night that you're already half way there. Carl Craig began his set with that Q-Tip Kamaal/The Abstract track "Barely In Love", of course completely blowing the minds of all the techno heads in the room. ("What the fuck is this shit?") Sometime later he played "All the Critics Love You In New York" off of Prince's "1999", a completely re-worked Detroit version though with the hard bass loop and solely Prince's voiceover refrain, "You can dance if you want to. . ." I completely made a fool of myself during this song, dancing like some old electro-Uncle at the family barbecue. I kept dancing around people going, "Do you know what this is? Do you know what this is?".
DJ Spinna & Bobbito, Peppers (Tribeca), "Michael Jackson vs. Prince" Party #1, April 19
This was the first of the "Prince vs. Michael" parties DJ Spinna did in 2002 (along with Bobbito on this occasion). All Prince and Michael Jackson songs, all night long, one after the other, from the earliest to the latest. Really, that's enough said. (Of course, I think Prince won.) Add to that hundreds of brothers and sisters dancing their asses off maniacally and singing, no, shouting, along with the music and you get something of an idea. Simply off the fucking hook. I think this is a better party than those Stevie Wonder parties these cats throw too. Me, Timothy, Andrew, his girl at the time Yulia, and some beautiful, wonderful people, all losing our fucking minds. (This is where I met Tamara too.)
Tintonton, Boogaloo, October 3
I love it when a party sneaks up on you. I had been hearing about this joint down in the ghetto part of Williamsburg for months, supposedly extremely beat-centric. I went searching for it and the first time I hit the joint Dayhota from Chicago is there ripping shit up, a Wednesday night, a party thrown by those CODE cats. Now I missed most of her set but was intent on getting back and checking out Boogaloo's vibe for real. People told me, "Wednesday is the house night, but Thursday is the techno night, for real, like Detroit". Okay, so I hit it on a Thursday night, ready, got my little bottle. I ain't expecting nothing but a few local beats, it's New York you know. But then this brother, Tintonton Duvante---I remember him from the Midwest---jumps on the decks and gets to playin' that funky Detroit groove, practically dancing while he spinning, twisting knobs, gyrating, a twisted George Clinton on some Detroit shit. At the most thirty people are in the place, but all heads, like some secret little techno clan. I'm three stops from my stop on the J line in Bushwick. I am a happy person.
Biz Markie, Happy Ending, November 25
Technically efficient, amazing old school record collection, singing along with records, throwing down some sick turntablist trickery, Biz blew the motherfucka up. Almost an abstract ghettofabulous set, Biz had the heads and trainspotters transfixed. Not exactly booty shaking enough for a lot of the crowd (many cleared out) but don't be mistaken---this was the shit. Who knew that Biz was a wizard up on the decks all of this time? The jester turns samurai.
DJ Sneak, at Billboard Live for the URB WinterOasis6 party in Miami during the Winter Music Conference, May 24
Quietly, in my opinion, the best fuckin' DJ in the world (or is it one of the two Derricks?). Any style, plain, simple. House is supposed to be both hard, crushing, "Detroit" (from within the Chicago), and soft, disco-y, garage, sleepy funk attack-like. Nobody crosses and mixes these lines so expertly and eloquently as my nigga Sneak (who has actually resided in Toronto for a while now, Chicago's loss). And he plays forever. He has got to be the only DJ I love who I have frequently been unable to hear completely play out his set. Not because I get tired or too fucked up or bored---but because he gets so good, so fuckin' good and the feeling goes on and on for so long that it just begins to hurt, it really does. It's hard to take, for 5 hours it is, peaks and valleys take on monumental emotional weight. He didn't play for so long this night, though in a short time he fucked shit up. We worked our way through the multi-leveled club and caught the last 20 minutes or so of Felix da Housecat and then Sneak walked up into the booth (it wasn't even a booth really but some kind of platform up some stairs near the ceiling). They tagged-teamed for a few minutes and then Sneak jumped on and ripped the fuck out of the place. It was just sick. Sick, sick, sick. He dropped some remix of the theme song from "Sanford and Son" that had the heads on the dance floor staring at each other in disbelief and shouting up to him in encouragement. It was a hard and techno/disco-y groove with about four bars of the funky twang part looped. This got dropped around the time word of Denzel and Halle Berry's Oscar wins started getting text messaged through to people on the dance floor. As long as Sneak keeps spinning, house, Chicago, will never, ever die. Long live Sneak, and the spirit that brother rode in on.
Bad Company, for Breakbeat Science, Shine, June 5
Ah, that real jungle shit. Hard, crushing, speedy. This was pure joy. Some time near the end these cats started playing that "speedy electro" breakbeat shit (yet again) that I heard the cats playing out on the back patio of that Tanja thing. This was the best drum 'n bass thing I saw all year.
Derrick Carter at Tronic Treatment, Baktun, May 13
This was a low-key surprise gig D. Carter did at Baktun (R.I.P.) over in the meatpacking district for Tronic Treatment's birthday party for Viktor. Mid-tempo and contemplative, Carter was in an experimental mode here: A lot of slower tempo, weird techno-y stuff with disco vocals. He spun a sleepy funked-out remix of Felix's "What Does It Feel Like?", and this really odd trippy slow-build-up of a funk track with whirling sirens---funky disco meets rave-y trance. He's also got this one signature track he's been dropping for a while now whose title I don't know but kind of has this weird nerdy guy singing to himself or to a (imagined?) lover, "Should I do it like thiiiiis?". This was a sly, low-key set.
Goldie, at Tanja in Miami for the World of Drum 'n Bass IV afterparty during the Winter Music Conference, May 26
Yep, Goldie, I kid you not. Granted, if there is any DJ thought to have been "Kryloned" from hype-ness, "done", it is my man Goldie. The man was thought simply to have been pushed out and "painted over" long ago. He was never really a DJ to begin with, simply a hype ass producer. I saw him spin years ago after one of his live shows and he was pleasant enough but nowhere near A-list. Well, Mr. "Saturnz" returneth indeed. During the Winter Music Conference I wound up at not one but two spots where Goldie spun secretly, completely unannounced, and brother must have been practicing during his hiatus from the spotlight because he tore the fuck out the decks this night, ALL METALHEADZ WHITELABELS. Fucking hard, intense, and crushing. I truly got my jungle fix at this party. He spun with a hype ass MC whose name I never caught. If the afterparty was any indication then the party itself must have been crazy 'cause this was sick, sick, sick. Don't believe the hype, jungle is alive and well.
Frankie Knuckles at Subliminal Sessions, Club Shelter, May 2
I'd recently viewed a documentary about the history of the New York house scene, Maestro, and just been blown away by Frankie Knuckles' candid reflections on the nature of the scene in the mid to late 80's as well as our present Zeitgeist. I've heard Frankie Knuckles spin before (I can't seem to refer to him as "Frankie" or "Knuckles", his full name is so legendary, just rolls off the lip so eloquently as if royalty itself, it resists truncation). There is no doubt that I heard him spin back in the day in Chicago, at the Warehouse, but I don't remember, wasn't really listening back then. I can't remember his musical palate so to speak, well, enough to characterize it in my beat knowledge bank. (I was listening to beats back in '82 but didn't seriously start listening to them until, well, maybe '94? I've written about this elsewhere.) When I heard about this gig---at the new "Shelter" club, for Subliminal, and with Frankie Knuckles, I was all over it. (But worried somehow that he would be "soft" and just garage/soul and I-know-and-remember-all-of-that-shit). But for those of you who don't know, he is indeed, a Jedi. If you could mix E-Man (why isn't he on this list?) with Erick Morillo you'd get something of what Frankie Knuckles is all about. A magnificent set that was funky, "classic", and the closest you can get to that road between Chicago and Detroit without being on it (perhaps floating above it, around it, building it?). Old school, strictly, but hard old school. I'm used to seeing all of the kids disappear during sets like this but my brother, the Louis Armstrong of the game, a living bridge between Chicago and New York, rocked everybody. Long live Frankie Knuckles.
Traxx, Pianos, November 28
I'm not quite sure whose idea it was (Kimyon's?) to bring Traxx to New York to play on Thanksgiving night as opposed to the Wednesday before the holiday or later that weekend (well, he did play around town later that weekend). I trudged my ass in from Brooklyn after a scrumptious Southern Thanksgiving dinner at Shayni Rae's and 18 bottles of wine, braving the cold. Me, Lori, and maybe 15 other people showed up for this gig (I'm only exaggerating a tad). Of course the whole Japanese contingent was there, but not a whole lot more. No matter, when Traxx finally did stop socializing (no doubt wondering when the party was actually gonna start) he got up on the decks and blew the place to fuckin' hell. Man, I wish I could have dragged some of those electro perpetrators out in Williamsburg to this and had them hear the first 45 minutes of his set, some real futuristic ghetto (c)Negroclash---disco, techno, beats. Intelligent and warm, bizarre and stupid, robotic and "big Queen". Eventually brother man went insanely hard, fuckin' German practically. Everybody was dancing. I thought they were gonna have to get a bouncer to get the kids off his jock up at the tables. Chicago strikes again.
Jazzy Jay, Tompkins Square Park, Mayday Celebration, May 5
This was old school madness outside in the park. Old, young, hipsters, baby strollers, ravers, yuppies, junkies, heads, the curious, cops, white, black, Puerto Rican, everybody dancing, everybody gettin' their groove on (just a freakin'). These Mayday celebrations are just a blast. The moment when Jay dropped that old disco track, "Doin' It In the Park" may well have been my happiest moment of the summer (days spent in Kismet with "___" excepting).
Mistress Barbara, Christian Smith, & John Selway at the Tronic Treatment Boat Sessions aboard the Star of Palm Beach, June 2
I don't think these kids are A-list samurai yet, at least not on a consistent basis, but they be blast rocking all over. I mean, you already have the crowd revved up simply by being on a boat party cruising around Manhattan, but this party took that energy and cultivated it into a sick party. (Side note: it would never occur to me that so many hardcore techno heads would be into basketball but a bartender on one of the decks had a TV that yanked dozens of heads away from the dancefloor for three-quarters of an hour to watch the Kings choke in that Game 7 overtime loss to the Lakers.) Musically I enjoy Christian Smith the most, he's a funkier Cox hard house. Selway is hard techno, intricate, revved up melodies at attack-mode speeds. Mistress Barbara is less my speed, those hard beats (for the sake of those hard beats) but I must admit I actually danced to her more than the others. Some of these Tronic Treatment kids take their shit seriously---at one point there were more people trainspotting Selway on the decks that dancing, an odd phenomenon, it starts to look like some weird darkened lecture room. Now that Baktun's gone, where will people go to get solid doses of techno (not to mention jungle) on a regular basis? Stay tuned, only the Shadow knows.
Concerts / "Live" Music
Princess Superstar, Bowery Ballroom, May 9
This was crazy cool. I don't know why Princess Superstar gets few props for what she does. (I mean, The Streets?) I went to this more out of curiosity than anything (and 'cause I think Oliver dumped tickets on me). Never expected the solid live show she gave. You want to talk about groupies? The first two rows in front of the stage was filled with potential "He was always a nice, quiet guy" types ogling her just a little too intensely. She's fucking funny too (I wonder what those afterparties were like?). Barely over an hour, I think there were four costume changes.
The White Stripes, Union Square Park, noon, October 1
Just when I (again) get to thinking that rock (not to mention the blues) is finished Jack and Meg waltz in and just rip shit up, for free, outside in a New York City park. It's good to see a band play shit undeniably genuine, that rocks, fuckin' blues grooves---assuredly. Chuck Berry meets the Pixies on some Howlin' Wolf shit. No matter how much you sometimes sense something missing, hear the absent bass and whatnot, their sound is still more "full" live than some six member bands I've heard. Jack is a motherfucker of a blues singer and a fucking kick ass guitarist too. He plays killer, charismatic lead as well as the rhythm section parts along with Meg, who is not too much of a slouch herself. Me like.
The Roots / Common, SummerStage, September 14
I think I'd even like WhiteSnake or Celine outside at SummerStage, it's just that nice. This was a dream ticket, The Roots and then Common with the band backing him. It was great, though way too short. Cody Chestnutt came on stage and performed "The Seed 2.0" with them. I couldn't believe Common actually did De La's "The Bizness" (with his infamous lyric) out in Central Park on a Saturday afternoon, but he did. (Perhaps he kinda made up for it with "Between You, Me & Liberation" on Electric Circus.)
Electric Turn to Me, CBGB, November 23
I wrote about this band's live show earlier. They consist of my man Marcus Degrazia on keyboards (and bass, actually), Silke on powerful vocals, Blake on the skins, and James Wilk playing lead guitar (Silke adds to the wall of sound on guitar too). Cool and intricate punk rock with ever present filtered keyboards (those old seventies keyboards). The show is visually stunning too, done by a cat named Noah Klersfeld whose video work I've seen a couple of times at shows in DUMBO (he seems to have his own "video" groupies too). Is Klerfsfeld a fifth Beatle? Perhaps the sixth---they have a pretty sophisticated modern expressionistic dancer along always also, sexy as hell, seems a part of the collective. That Blake is simply a motherfucker on the drums, should be arrested, dangerous. Can't wait for the LP to be finished, the "Electric Turn To Me Experience" is what it should all be called.
Yeah Yeah Yeahs / Liars / Oneida, parking lot across the street from 401 Wythe Street, September 1
A crazy impromptu gig in a yard/parking lot in Williamsburg underneath the bridge. The Yeah Yeah Yeahs are good, okay, but it's the Liars who really rock the shit outta joints. The hipness vibe at this shit was so thick, insane, like some mass "happening".
Aneikit, Sidewalk Café, Sept. 17
Sister girl rips it up: Beth Orton meets acoustic Lauryn, hard and meaner though. Beautiful music, complex, aggressive. When she finally recruits a proper backing band and works that setup as well as she has her solo performance Aneikit is gonna be something truly deadly indeed. She's a wonderful singer/songwriter just waiting to blow up.
Flaming Lips, Celebrate Brooklyn Festival, Prospect Park, August 24
Flaming Lips are kinda crazy I'm sure: 30 "animal" people jumping around the stage while Wayne Coyne, dressed in a suit, dances about tossing glitter everywhere, into the audience, lights flashing everywhere like it's a Broadway musical or something, singing "Do You Realize?". And that was just the start of the show. Punk gigs have come a long way.
Sonic Youth, SummerStage, August 11
I lay on the grass outside SummerStage listening to this really deep experimental jazz/beats collective who preceded the headliners. I read the newspaper. Sonic Youth came on and played one of the longest sets I've heard at SummerStage, it was great. I haven't really listened to their new record but the portions of it they played sounded really good live. The little spatterings of their old tunes really had the crowd going. It's amazing how their noise excursions fit in perfectly with a Saturday afternoon in Central Park. I ate a sandwich, read some of Giddin's "Visions of Jazz", drank a four dollar bottle of water. It was nice. I love music.
So that's it. Won't bother you with more of this "year" stuff anytime soon. (But will with other things, art shit, party things, and of course "Gospel", "Piano Spinna", and "Kurnst".) I've decided that "next" time, whatever that means, to just drop all of the "DJ sets" vs. "Live music" categorization crap, which is stupid. It's all the same so it'll just be moments, music, be they the actual musical score to a film, random MP3s, mix tapes, spoken word jam sessions with bass players, aspiring kid groups lip-synching at malls, rambling telephone messages with music in the background, whatever, all in the same pot (and I'll just have to answer to all of the people who question why most of the things on the "list" are DJ sets). To be quite honest, it'd all be much easier and "purer" if I just combined film, music, live performances, food, moments on the subway, theater, performance art, sports moments, art exhibits etc. etc. to one list and just espoused on that which touched, moved, disgusted, and inspired me one way or another. That'd be easier and closer to the point.
The 2001 Detroit Electronic Music Festival mired itself in controversy before it even began when co-founder and techno legend Carl Craig found himself fired by festival organizers. I guess the corporations had arrived, this second annual DEMF sponsored heavily by everyone under the sun (omnipresent Ford was the festival's main sponsor). The corporate presence was evident on every stage, in every tent. Perhaps it comes with the territory. I don't think anyone expected this year's DEMF to reach the spiritual richness of the inaugural festival held last year, of which much lore is passed. Regardless of the Craig controversy the show went on Memorial Day weekend with DJs resigned to keep the party jumping anyway, to represent for Detroit. Four main stages were situated inside Hart Plaza in downtown Detroit with hundreds of techno, house, and electronic based artists from around the world scheduled to perform.
The weather sucked all weekend, it was cloudy and overcast, drizzling, or raining. Electronic music fans from as far away as Japan and Australia packed the plaza and braved the weather, determined to take in one of the richest gatherings of DJs ever assembled in this country. An interesting aspect of the festival is the sheer number of great DJs performing at any given time. In addition to the four main stages there was an "interactive" tent set up at the plaza's entrance where DJs spun amidst cars displayed by Ford and video games on computer monitors (one a really cool game with a skateboarding DJ protagonist searching for vinyl). Day 1 found Detroit techno legend Kelli Hand, house DJ Glenn Underground, and the post-rock group Tortoise all playing at the same time. Tortoise pleased the crowd on the main stage with their sleepy is-it-jazz-or-is-it-electronic-noise guitar musings. Glenn Underground rocked Chicago House on one of the side stages while K. Hand had the hometown crowd dancing euphoric to her cool techno grooves. It's always a good sign when a DJ finds herself so moved by what she's spinning that she's got her hands swinging up in the air while she jabs back and forth with the crowd. Nobukazu Takemura, an experimental "noise" artist from Japan, both bewildered and enlightened festival goers on a side stage. The guy doesn't spin vinyl at all but uses sequencers and computers to create soundscapes of breakbeats, experimental techno, and a little quirky drum 'n bass. Many were confused by the sounds emanating from the stage but danced anyway---his was an intense and futuristic music. The basement of Hart Plaza was transformed into a dark raver paradise for the festival and on the first day had graffiti artists spray painting murals on the walls, nearly choking the ravers to death but actually creating some cool shit. British duo Autechre spun abstract beats in the cavernous space and oddly enough did not put off the multitudes very obviously yearning a more "boomp boomp" techno. That's one thing about the DEMF and Detroit in particular---there is an atmosphere where everyone is really open to having their musical minds expanded. Interesting experimentation was found everywhere as well as a more classic grooving. In one of the side booths on the festival grounds an African-American woman older than my mother, Stacey "Hot Waxx" Hale spun deep techno and house, bewildering some of us out of town heads. Miss Hale is a fixture in Detroit techno circles, having graced clubs and radio stations since the early eighties. She had a sizeable crowd taking in her grooves, almost as many people as in the official performing areas. Dave Hollands from New York not only spun hard funky techno in the interactive tent but benefited from the night's rain---everyone either headed for the basement of Hart Plaza or the tent, where festival goers and ravers were packed like sardines mashing to his sounds. Both Jay Denham and James Pennington (Suburban Knight) spun closing sets on opening day but got rained on. Crowds danced in the rain anyway but many forwent Suburban Knight's set as he was scheduled to spin at an afterparty later that night.
Afterhour parties were the gems of DEMF 2001 and the party thrown Saturday night by the underground DJ collective Underground Resistance was a no miss. Thrown in a large, pitch-black warehouse in an abandoned part of the Eastern Market district of downtown Detroit, Underground Resistance blew the minds of those gathered. They can best be described as a mixture between the Black Panthers and a techno-of-the-ghetto DJ crew. Pure Detroit. Men patrolled the space in black shirts stenciled with "UR". Most of the DJs wore black masks that made them look like Zapatistas. I cannot remember the last time I went to a techno party and damn near half of those in attendance were African-American, many of them older. It was like some disco in Brooklyn in the eighties, except as filtered through black techno culture. The grooves were electro/techno (not "ghetto-tech", but more like ghetto techno). Two men in masks (the group Chaos) played a "live" set on keyboards and a sequencer. Rolando, Clandestine, and Suburban Knight spun. It reminded me of Chicago in the early nineties. Everyone seemed apologetic about the $12 cover to get into the party and kept stressing it "included beer", and indeed there was free amber beer by the keg in the back of the room (Water was $2 ---wink, wink). By the end of the night inhabitants were huddled in darkened corners or swooping through the room. Walking back along abandoned Gratiot Avenue (it seems like no matter where you are in Detroit there are never any people in the streets, like some apocalyptic wasteland) it turned out there were private parties all over the place---big and organized, small and underground.
Day Two of the festival brought more clouds and rain, but musically things kicked into gear. Festival headliners De La Soul sent the capacity crowd gathered before the main stage through a hip-hop history lesson: beats, rhymes, and party. The trio played gems from their first record "3 Feet High and Rising" on through their latest, "Art Official Intelligence: Mosaic Thump". Although drizzle rained down Posdnous and Dave (Plug 2) lead the audience in spirited singing, rapping, and arm waving, summoning back hip-hop's party roots. They dismissed the dozens of American flags lining Hart Plaza, proclaiming that the only thing the thousands lining downtown Detroit should show allegiance to were themselves and the spirit of the party. The crowd roared in agreement. De La Soul were followed on the main stage by French impresario Laurent Garnier who played a live set of intense minimal techno, occasionally joined by horn players, keyboards and other musicians. Back on the festival grounds those in town for the weekend seemed to settle into the festival, enjoying the local food merchants' offerings of ethnic foods---Soul, Greek, Caribbean, Chinese, Italian, vegetarian (steamed corn on-the-cob was the best deal). In contrast to your usual festival fare the DEMF's offerings were unusual, tasty, and relatively cheap. It was on Sunday that protesters of the event, supporters of Carl Craig, made their presence felt. Thousands sported stickers that read, "Carl was framed". There was also a weird duo walking around festival grounds all weekend passing out flyers about a "message from Extraterrestrials"---humans were created in scientific laboratories by the Elohim, an advanced people from space. They carried huge signs with quotes from, and pictures of, these aliens. Meanwhile the side stages were rocked by the likes of local techno luminary Rick Wilhite, who spins a diverse mix of groove heavy techno with jazzy beats and euphoric mid-tempo house, über-Detroit, like Mississippi meeting the Industrial Revolution. Alton Miller, one of the founders along with Derrick May of the legendary Music Institute, Detroit's seminal techno club of the late eighties, spun Chicago House with deep techno undertones. One of the few hip-hop acts to play the DEMF was the Binary Star crew hailing from Pontiac Michigan. Senim Silla and MC the Anonymous flowed over deep beats with stream of consciousness political-minded lyrical darts. Down on the subterranean stage the happenings turned unique with "Art Fashion: Detroit", a somewhat "revolutionary" fashion show by French art/fashion impresario Fanny Bouyagi and her Art Point M crew. A handful of models somberly graced the stage in dark sunglasses, often with masks over their faces or mouths while video projections of inner city Detroit flashed on a screen behind them, hard techno music blasting through the room. The clothes looked like some kind of urban haute couture run through a shredder, every single piece of it black. It was as if a revolutionary group had decided to refocus their attack using fashion. The audience, eager for another rave-like DJ to hit the stage stood kind of dazed, wondering if it were indeed fashion, performance art, or madness. New York spoken-word artist turned bandleader (and star of the movie "Slam") Saul Williams graced the main stage with his hard rock/hip-hop band and bewildered the masses also. It was like a Baptist minister hiring Ozzy Osbourne's band to back him up as he preached the social evils of America and its urban cities. Sometimes hard and crushing, at other moments old school rap flowing, Saul and his band really fucked with the audience's minds. A lot of people walked away to other stages while the rest just stood transfixed by the intense music and near screaming politico-speak. It was really intense, the band's album, "Amethyst Rock Star", is only available in Europe. Second generation Detroit techno god Stacey Pullen closed Day 2 on the Motor stage and really elevated the level of technical mastery. Anticipation for his set was so intense that an hour before he was to go on it was virtually impossible to get over anywhere near the Motor stage. Stacey started funky and almost metallic house-y before spinning harder and harder techno, driving the kids thrashing about before him insane. It was the best techno set heard up to that point.
Sunday night's afterhour choices were an incredible assortment of Detroit crews bumping heads: John Acquaviva at the world famous Motor club in Hamtramck, Mark Farina at a party thrown by the Mekkanism crew at the Majestic Theater, and an intense gathering of underground techno artists put together by the folks from Treatment (trusttheDJ). The hot ticket was Carl Craig's Planet E party in downtown Detroit (with lines that stretched around the block). Craig himself did not jump up on the decks until sunrise and blew those partiers still crammed into the space away, well into morning. I trekked a little farther out into Detroit along Michigan Avenue past old Tiger Stadium, past a well-needed White Castle, and then to a barren part of town that reminded me of the South as filtered through an industrial wasteland. Scores of abandoned houses lined the streets, many of them huge domiciles, like burned out confederate mansions after the Civil War. It was no wonder that all people ever talk about in Detroit is how cheap it is to get huge lofts or buy these big communal homes---they just sit everywhere throughout the city in disarray, it was really weird. I made my way out to a dwelling that houses something called the Detroit Contemporary Art Gallery. It looked like someone's home to me. The streets may have been abandoned but within these walls bodies crammed to hear house legend Larry Heard spin along with underground DJs Kenny Dixon Jr. (Moodyman), and Theo Parrish. The DJs spun anonymously on an elevated perch in a corner of a back room completely pitch black. All cameras were confiscated at the door. The music started off as sleepy, funky house, slowly progressing to joyous house and then to mid-tempo Detroit techno---futuristic "black barbecue" music. Music was pumped to an upstairs room were people sat and smoked weed. The homemade bar "ran out" of water and after awhile it seemed like everyone was drinking Sangria, the only remaining beverage. I have never in my life been to a party filled with as many superstar DJs and yet such a laid-back "neighborhood-y" atmosphere. Post five o'clock "party favors" were passed around the rooms. Mini orgies broke out in various corners of the space. There were still hundreds in attendance at 7 o'clock.
On Day 3 of the DEMF the sun finally broke through the clouds and shone down on the grounds, though, if like me, most of the festival goers missed it as they were holed up in their hotel rooms recovering from the previous night. They weren't the only ones---DJ Carl Cox of England was supposed to grace the fest with a mid-afternoon 3 hour set but called festival organizers in the morning to cancel, explaining he was "sick" (read: got too fucked up the night before). The ravers who dragged themselves out of bed (or never went to sleep) were none too pleased. Drum 'n Bass DJ LTJ Bukem (oddly one of the few, if not only, jungle DJs scheduled to grace the fest---a weird Detroit phenomenon) had cancelled previously because festival organizers did not gather the proper work visas for him. One of the day's highlights was the reunion performance by Kevin Saunderson's Inner City collective. The group's seminal release, "Good Life" had been the 2001 DEMF's most spun track. I counted having heard it at least 6 times in various guises throughout the fest. House DJs played it, techno DJs played it, even acid jazz and hip-hop DJs played the track, cut up, sped up, slowed down, remixed. The live band and singers played a soulful organic version of the song that had the throngs grooving like they were at a street party. As night approached Hart Plaza filled with more bodies in anticipation of the closing sets by the prime DJs scheduled to finish off the festival. House DJ Doc Martin unleashed cool West Coast grooves on the CPop stage for the throngs of groupies that seem to shadow him all over the world. Chicago DJ Derrick Carter rocked the Motor stage as seemingly half of everyone in Detroit attempted to crowd the square and experience the now legendary DJ, much talked about in underground circles. The Motor stage's square was right off the Detroit River and one could look across the river into Windsor, Canada. Partiers screamed and waved over---you could actually see people walking along the river's shore on the Canadian side. The sun went down and the air turned cooler, dark clouds massing in the sky. One thing should be made clear---Derrick Carter is truly one of the finest DJs in the world, his style a form of jackin' Chicago house that traverses the ground between Techno and House, between Soul, experimental Disco and Funk, and then obliterates that line. He is one of those few DJs one would not be surprised to hear spin anything in his set, old disco, hard techno, nu-soul tracks, jazz, hip-hop---his sets escape definition. D. Carter can spin soft and diva-ish, he can spin funky, he can spin hard. And yet it is always the rawest definition of what house should be---futuristic and soulful. After you listen to him on more than a few occasions you realize that the way he spins is simply Derrick Carter, a great way to be defined as a DJ. Festival goers massed inside the square to get a listen at what he would bestow upon them and got an earful. He began soft and soulful and then his beats began to kick in, causing those in the square to gyrate and smile. Joints were passed throughout the crowd. At one point he kicked a song whose chorus went, " . . . in a disco, rolling with my friends" while underneath, in the background, "spinning all around, spinning all around" with little squirts of techno "noise" circling and a steady bass-line rolling through. Dancers began to lose it. Lightning and thunder blanketed the sky, far off but approaching. Mr. Carter always seems to be mixing three songs at once, even when using only two decks (is it possible that he carries his own remixes of songs that already fuse two different beats, multiple song lines, from which he further begins to mix?). I know the DEMF is all about Detroit and Detroit Techno, the old masters, but for my money Derrick Carter might very well be one of the best DJs in the world. In the motor city he showered his skills upon the faithful (as he had earlier in the year at the WMC in Miami). Then suddenly, about an hour into his set, representatives from the festival made their way up to the DJ booth and after much haranguing and discussion forced Carter off the decks, the music gone silent. There was much confusion as to what was going on. I thought maybe the festival was being hastily consolidated into one space for the last set, everyone moved over to the main stage to hear the master Derrick May's annual closing set (his set closing the inaugural DEMF is the stuff of legend). We all moved over to the main stage and caught Magic Juan Atkins at the tail end of his warm up set for May (along with Kevin Saunderson these two make up the triumvirate of Detroit Techno masters---the innovators). Atkins had been spinning his futuristic electro-funk for little more than fifteen minutes when the skies, which had grown increasingly dark, simply opened up and rain came pouring down. Magnificently the rain turned into little balls of hail and it was if the Gods had decided to glare down upon Detroit Techno City and behold what the groove was all about. It was eerie and awe inspiring, stunning the revelers, who looked at each other in disbelief as little chunks of ice plopped into their drinks. Juan rocked his techno harder, but after a few minutes the festival representatives made it up to the main stage and shut him down also (they had gotten advance weather reports and were systematically shutting down the whole festival). Those still braving the hail and rain in the main square shouted, clapped, screamed, and danced, and but to no avail, by 10:15 the outdoor stages had all been shut down (Derrick May had been scheduled to play from 10:30 until the festival's end at midnight). As had often been the case throughout the festival, whenever rain poured and shut down the main stages it was to the benefit of the underground stage and the unofficial interactive tent at Hart Plaza's entrance. Droves rushed into the underground area, maxing out the capacity. The interactive tent, which had been filled with a hundred or so ravers, was suddenly packed past capacity with thousands of wet, sweating bodies. The DJ spinning there, some kid whose name I never discovered, took advantage of the sudden high profile by rocking the tent to near insanity. Dancers jumped up on top of the Ford cars. It was so hot inside and so little air that both men and women took their shirts off. One mass of heaving bodies moved inside the tent to the hardest techno the kid could spin.
The masses gathered in Hart Plaza on Memorial Day may have missed Derrick May's closing set because of the weather but as might have been expected he had played around town during the weekend at least four times already. After his cancelled set he showed up at the KMS afterparty (the label owned by Kevin Saunderson). Mayday got up on the decks at 4 A.M. and played to a hundred or so lucky and stunned onlookers, a cool, masterful set of techno beats that only the Jedi Master himself could rock. Back at the Renaissance Marriott a block from Hart Plaza the last festival partiers wound things up in their rooms. Earlier in the night some guy had walked through the halls like a ghost selling hefty joints for five dollars a piece. Whether you were on the 12th or the 42nd floor there were little gatherings to be found everywhere (a big reason Marriott officials had attempted to hand out "wristbands" to keep those not checked into the hotel out). You'd walk onto a floor and see the door to a room a tad open and just walk up and knock or push the door open and walk into dozens of people "partying". Sometimes a room would have a colorful hat, a shirt, or underwear hanging on the doorknob---an invitation to come inside. A couple of doors down from one friend's room we noticed a door left wide open and found an empty room with nearly a case of beer left in the bathroom on ice. Apparently the occupants had checked out and left the beer for whomever to find as they couldn't take it with them. Leaving the hotel on Tuesday morning the remaining attendees of the festival walked around like techno zombies, wide smiles on our faces as we made our way to the airport or wherever we called home.
To quote the infamous Mike Banks of Underground Resistance, "For those who know, stay low, stay strong, stay ready, stay underground. For those who don't know---learn." Detroit Techno City, indeed.