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We had no idea where we were or how we got there; but we made it. You know the score- Four close friends in a daze, having driven their vehicle across the roads of an increasingly apocalyptic 21st century frontier-- a mess of eroding blacktop twisted into a fantastic map of bleak, paranoid surfaces. We had passed the last signs of civilization more than a few miles ago and I admit we were lost for what actually seems like too short of a time, considering how out there we used to go in the 'old days'! (those pleasant memories of deserted loading docks, clearings beneath bridges and flat land below highways).
A sigh of relief escaped all four of us as the ignition clicked off. With nothing but the distant muffle of resounding bass punching through the pleasant summer atmosphere, an indescribable excitement began to fill the air as vehicle doors were locked and bobbing heads moved in unison towards the venue entrance; a deserted place looking like some burnt out glimpse of an ancient heritage.
For a brief second, I wondered who the daytime inhabitants of this space might have been... in their wildest dreams could they ever imagine that their dull factory of labor and pain would one day become a brief haven for spiritual enlightenment? It seemed odd to me, that the corroding remnants of the past few decades work force would help house the current youth movement-- in millions of places just like this one, all over the United States and the rest of the globe. My mind raced through the possibilities, picturing labored Americans diligently designing some sort of soon-to-be-obsolete industrial item before.... shit, I lost the image.
A thought process can only last so long y'know? and that was it for that 'trance'; quickly broken by a fervor of muffled activity surrounding the entrance. A pack of 10 raver-types were waiting patiently for something to happen. One tall and lanky individual adjusted his cap carefully, glanced smuggly at our approaching group, and continued his explanation of the night's DJ lineup for his wide eyed, appreciative pals. "And then, DJ (fill in blank with your own techno fave) is gonna do you in good with some of that fast mental crazy shit..." The circle of smiles grew larger in every conceivable manner. "Then my man (fill in with another techno fave) is REALLY gonna rip shit up!", he shouted, in gleeful anticipation; his burst of radiant elation only matched by the equally motivated chorus of 'yeahs and 'whoos' which gushed forth from the front door gathering.
No doubt about it, a warm glow had already spread through my group-- moving from the tip of each finger to the top of each scalp; you could almost see it moving from tendon to tendon and again from person to person. Internally, I laughed to myself; already realizing that this was gonna be yet another good one. Once again, I managed to escape the commercial nonsense and had found THE REAL DEAL. The anxious wait seemed to transfigure the setting from the unfamiliar chaos of a beaten, deserted landscape into some kind of long lost home... and we hadn't even broken a sweat... yet. I knew I could hardly wait, as the onslaught of muffled mental thunder began to increase in intensity, possibly signifying some turntable magic in full effect.
"That shit must be slammin in there!", I thought aloud. The eagnerness had by now quieted everyone, even the talkative guy. Distant beats were already, so to speak, 'controlling the body' and kept my captive eyes prisoner in a gaze upon the doorway. Guarding access to the entrance, at 6'5, 255-- the security squad more than dwarfed everyone in sight. Arms folded and radios spewing random information into the crisp night air, they nodded at us indifferently. "Search--?" I inquired cautiously, preparing myself for the full body grope session that usually preceded any sort of nightlife event. Just in case I had a bomb in the sack I guess...
Much to my surprise, "No" came the monotone matter-of-fact reply. "Not here, man". Suddenly, the doors burst open; forcing the stolid security squad to take a half-step towards us. All sorts of mental noise escaped into the atmosphere. With it stepped a slender, attractive female figure. Nodding at us, she gestured to the bouncers in some intricate manner; signifying some sort of predetermined code language that we would never decipher (or care to). "O.K.. she stated, "Let's send everybody in". Then she turned to us and smiled, beckoning for us to follow into the complex. 'Are you ready?" "YES!" the gathering of want-in's exclaimed in enthusiastic unison.
Our excitement was completelty TWEAKED now, especially since we had the official go ahead. I felt weak in the knees-- as if it were those last few desperate moments before your rickety cart rolls up on the ol' Coney Island coaster! As we left the entrance way and moved beyond the door staff, we immediately became immersed in the audio onslaught and anxiously made our way through the crowded darkness. I could hardly see anything. Visibility was nearly impossible with all this madness on the inside. Although only sporadic laser stabs and relentless strobes silhouetted the building, it was obvious the music was in complete control. Not a sitting, sleeping or crak-smoking idiot in sight. People everywhere were engaged in the dance-waving arms, moving legs, fingers and hands. Whatever body part could be twisted or shook in some fashion was in effect, controlled by someone somewhere in the elated summertime crowd... We carefully moved forward engaged in some kind of triumphant 'water walk', our spirits on the up and up and our arms-- getting into the swing of things. I knew where my squad was headed; arms outstrecthed ready for the BEST-- straight through the crowd and to the source; of course, where mental sound just might liquidize the senses.
In the front of the room, two giant speaker stacks effortlessly tossed out giant slabs of thick, analog sound. Mechanized hand claps resounded throughout the room, a heavy reverb lingering for moments on end; just the way we like it! We quickly got into the groove; joining the beaming mass of vinyl junkies on the d-floor. In the corner of my eye, I squinted to make out one older individual, who at first glance, looked a little out of place in throwback 80's leather. Eyes closed and fists clenched, the punker type had just about completely tuned into the audio collage. Suddenly, in time with the DJs mix, his eyes popped open, and the fire of life shot forth in all directions. "Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" he screamed, identifying one of the deadliest rhythms my ears had ever heard. "That's Mills mutherfucka!!! Go muthafucka go!!!" he jumped into frenzied dance action, shouting and shaking his fists, marching proudly in place and occasionally grabbing neighbors and urging them on.
The whole room seemed to glow with the same energy we experienced just a few moments ago outdoors. The DJ had, completely 'broken loose' and dared to go really fucking mental-- beneath the barrage of trance inducing percussion, his selection of techno had come to life, breaking the laws of physics and leaping forth from the speakers! His story was a trippy one, obviously written by a skilled author, manipulating those sound waves like there was no tomorrow, bringing the tribe 'a little closer' under one inevitable sky.
Unusual music bounced everywhere; wobbling, warbling, squiggling and squirming in any which way it could. The sonic groove had gone on and melted us... I heard a woman scream. I saw a figure drop to his knees from exhaustion. An amazed look crept across the assembly... Many glanced towards the decks to confirm and identify that the insanity they heard was not some obscure dream and actually a human sound sculpture. Head down, the DJ was carefully cutting and editing, making never heard before music with the oversized, black discs of analogica that populated the record crate at his side. "Who the HELL is this?" someone panicked on my left, during a percussive pause. "That's DJ (fill in this blank with your techno fave)", exclaimed another guy, leaning forward from the undefined shadows adjutent to my position. His overheard voice echoed amidst the analogika. "He's good. real good... You missed the first hour and a half of his set man- he ripped shit UP!" I briefly glanced at the booth; catching the DJ monitoring the audience who continued to sway in timeless tune to yet another track of endless rhythm. No doubt pleased with his work and lost in thought for a few moments, he finally noticed my lingering stare and flashed a mischievous grin, as if to say 'are YOU ready?'
I felt a tap on my right shoulder, it was the man who I overheard revealing the DJs identity."Excuse Me", he exclaimed as he squeezed past and towards the ground level booth. Little did I know then that was another DJ known simply as ??? He would be the next purveyor of pure.
Back into the dance, I grooved and I moved for quite a while; for what seemed like hours on end-- until captured bits of sampled vocal looped out of the speakers and engulfed me in its simple, stunning and repetitive complexity.
This serves only as an instigator to encourage further thought. ask yourself, if what THEY say is true. Do we basically represent, a mass of confused sheeople too kraaked out to be sure why they are where they are?
THIS IS FOR YOU, the bass race-- the 'dwellers in the dark'. Don't you
wanna know what incredible force in abstract dance music, no matter what
the style, generates such awesome response in our generation?
We want, we NEED to know just what it is about this music that invokes the primal spirit. The seamless flow of analogue information-- its alive and its active and no government or individual is ever going stop it. Whatever it is, whatever it means, its ours and we like it that way because...
we are that way.
Now its up to us to take this power and