This
is the premiere post of my new blog, WALSHED OUT, which will focus on
electronic music of all varieties, and not ever chillwave as the
remarkably punny title by way of my music editor Michael Marotta may
suggest. Every other week, I'll be dropping through with a maybe short,
maybe long essay, highlighting something popping off in dance music on a
local, national, or even global scale. Hell, maybe I'll just throw up a
couple singles that I'm feeling at the moment. Where this whole thing is
going? Your guess is as good as mine, and I'm open to suggestions, so feel
free to hit me at mwalsh@phx.com, or on twitter @michael_c_walsh.
It
wouldn't be fair to label Boston behind the curve when it comes to
dance music; though a cursory glance at listings that deal in that sort
of thing lends itself to that perception. New York, Chicago, and Los Angeles?
Stacked with parties Monday through Sunday, with some rather large
names touching down on the weekends -- Claude VonStroke, Luciano, and
Peter Van Hoesen this weekend in NYC alone. While Boston appears relatively bare.
But
this isn't a case of not trying. There's been a spatial slathering of
big name bookings over the past few months, and a semblance of a scene
has undeniably percolated up. These signifiers don't lend themselves to
"behind the curve" in the least.
So
let's try "geographically stunted" instead. Not even possessing a
remote inkling of knowledge of what goes into booking, I've always been
of the (admitedly-ignorant) understanding that it has to be difficult to
land a weekend gig with one of these mega-DJs -- often traveling from
overseas -- when they could pack an exponentially larger room in one of
the aforementioned cities. Cash rules, etc. etc. Hence, we're left with a
good amount of Wednesday/Thursday outings. Better than nothing I
suppose, but sometimes it can be awfully difficult to get jazzed for a
mid-week dancing soiree.
And
before anyone starts crying, I'm well aware a local "scene" isn't
built on visiting acts. It's a from the ground up, home grown thing. But
in the same sense, as is the case with any genre, shine for locals in
high-profile opening slots is invaluable.
Which all leads me to last Wednesday, February 8. The setting was Felt,
a faux-posh Downtown "hot spot," that may or may not be named such
because they have pool tables there? I assumed as much, but couldn't
locate any upon being ushered to the loft-like second level of the club
for the evening's proceedings.
The
reason for trekking my broke-ass from Allston to the Commons at 11:30
on a work night was RICHY AHMED, a UK-bred house DJ who garnered
moderate buzz this past summer's Ibiza season by linking up with fellow
countryman Jamie Jones and his Hot Creations imprint. Not a bad mate to
link with, as Jones basically won 2011.
As someone who's never had the pleasure of venturing to the Spanish
Isle's -- on my salary, pssshhh -- he won me over on the strength of this single mix,
which is basically the audio equivalent of stripping off your clothing
and self-applying burning candle wax to your own chest. All-the-way
sexual intonations, with an overarching hint of creepiness.
Unfortunately,
based on the sparse turnout of about 15 huddled around the bar upon my
arrival, his name doesn't hold the same consequence to many others in
this area. No harm though. More dancing room and whatnot.
The night was the effort of WeNo Music -- a relatively nubile promotions crew who have done a bang up job on bringing some world-class types through town as of late: Seth Troxler back in December, Danny Daze earlier this month, and Damian Lazarus for next Thursday's outing; more on that a bit later though.
When
I touched down in the club, residents Tamer Malki and Sergio Santos
were still on the decks, only reaffirming my aforementioned stance that
these gigs are ideal shine for local cats trying to pop off in their own
right. I've seen the pair on a couple of occasions past, but have never
witnessed them lay it down to this degree. Also, they seem adaptable in
their role as table-setters, working up a lube-based entry point for
the forthcoming sexual release we were about to receive via Ahmed.
There's
no mistaking the reason why Ahmed made his name in Ibiza, of all
places. His music is best taken in while wearing shorts that expose too
much inner-thigh, toes sunk into white sand and fingers grasping a
cocktail of unmentionables. Or the perfect anthem for exiting a dark
club following a night of shut-in dancing and having your pupils do that
fucked up thing where they expand and contract at the same time,
adjusting to normalcy.
None
of this calls to mind some wanker club in piss-cold New England where
you have to throw on a winter coat anytime you want to go catch a breath
outside. But so is Boston. "Geographically stunted," especially in the
sense that a booking of this nature would be damn-near impossible during
warmer months, where prying him from his residency duties would likely
cost a grip-and-a-half.
But
therein lies the paradoxical magic of nights like Wednesday. After an
hour-or-so of cool breeze house, Ahmed ratcheted up the tempo and took
off for his closing half-hour. And I stood in the middle of the room,
probably looking like a real maniacal prick because I wasn't able to do
much besides laugh.
What
makes it all so special is the wonderment of witnessing a figure I've
only previously worshipped through computer speakers unloading his
A-game goods right there in front of me. (That's especially in reference
to that edit of ODB's "Got Your Money." On the lookout for a release of
that one.) Who knows if whether that opportunity presented itself night
in-and-out, it would still possess that same knock down/drag out
quality? I like to think so, but for now I'm content just taking what I
can get.
Speaking
of which, next Thursday night, February 23, DAMIAN LAZARUS is playing the same
room. Since I've been so fucking reliant on Resident Advisor charts in
proving my points, here's another one!
His label, Crosstown Rebels, topped RA's 2011 chart on the strength of delivering a finely curated clip of slinky house, not unlike that of Richy. Tickets are a little steep at $20, but trust me on this one, even though I'm new at this and everything
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