Juan Atkins at Bodyheat! Part Two.

With the fear of being labeled a whore (a vinyl whore not a label one, and anyway it would be better grammarz to be called a label whore, not labeled one, right kids?), I have to say a lickle something about last night's Bodyheat with Juan Atkins, Steve Summers and DJ Niklas. 'Twas fab, in fact I would go as far as to say that it was fandabbbydozy, not merely fab. "Pray why?" I hear you tentatively gasp in a low, subdued breath that's replete with hanticipation and hexpectation no less. It was great because for the first time in a long time I felt that I was being entertained and not witnessing the powerful effect of a promoter's facade; that kiss ass act that takes about fifty seconds to execute as a flyer is deftly handed over and an insincere compliment delivered. The result being thoughts of (in loud, squeaky voice), "Oh gosh that promoter is so nice, I have to go to that party so I can witness more of how nice he/she is and feel like I'm important. Golly, I hope that there's a photographer there, so I can stare at myself through a cocaine headache all day Saturday. I don't remember the music, but the photographer's name was Cindy De L'Abortion," etc. 

"Gosh, you're so bitter Orr," a chorus of five trillion young, socially overactive, go along to get along operatives gleefully opine. No, I'm fucking bored to the tits with shite parties, crap music, whack soundsystems, phony, attention addicted promoters, terrible photographers and incapable djs. OK? It's alright, you're still allowed to have an opinion in America, it won't be made illegal until eight months into McCain's presidency, when if the "Seldom Is Heard A Discouraging Word" law is broken you're sent off to Guatanamo to be lobotomized and spend the rest of your days stacking bottles in front of you. 

Anyways, ranting aside, Bodyheat rocked last night for these reasons; Steve Summers live set was a pretty damned good selection of jack trax, acid tracks and deep, string drenched numbers that brought Vincent Floyd to mind.  No computer to be seen (by me anyway), all hardware and Shteve up there playing, and turnin' knobs til his heart was content. Nice one son. Then Dj Niklas got up on the decks, played some top notch disco and house music and shook his funky ass about too, which the crowd loved and responded in kind to. People like it when the dj dances, and not the air punching, "we rock" type of dancing that is spread (like manure) over Flickr, myspace et al. these days. His mixing was spot on and he delivered a couple a two or three shlick cuts too, as one does when one is playing dishco. Outta sight!

Then Juan Atkins got on, mixed out of Quando Quango's "Love Tempo," (golly I lovez me that song) and played just under two hours of disco, house, techno, and there was even a rather cosmic (in every sense of the word) middle eastern musical interlude that kinda floored everyone. He started off a little unsure of the crowd, as one does when one is a human being (or carbon unit for those who are fond of science fiction references), but a few a songs in and he was sticking it to us, playing dance music the way it needs to be played, and showing us the continuum that connects Chic's "Dance Dance Dance" (and we did did did) to Red Planet's "Star Dancer," Alexander Robotnick's "Problemes D'Amour," A Number of Names' "Shari Vari," Infiniti's "Game One," Fonda Rae's "Living In Ecstasy," and some brand new, minimal gear. 

The crowd ate it up and it coulda been 1988, 1992 or 2011. 2011, huh? Well, a few more nights like this and people will remember, and some will be introduced anew to, the concept of going out for some good music. Also there were nice, not overdone (as usual) rave inducing visuals from AC of Donuts! fame and fam. So hats off to Logan and the lads and lasses for a top night out, and for reminding me why I love dance music! 

Oh, and before I forget: Elbo Room, please do  something  with that damned soundsystem of yours, like put your manager in a time machine and send him back to 1907 when the thing was set up. Here are some blunt hints: loud, clean, soundsystem equals mad dancing, whooping, hollering, whistling, joviality, and A LOT MORE DRINKING AT THE BAR! It's a well known psychological fact that people drink more when there's loud music. Jesus, I can't count how many damned venues I play at or go to that have spent a quarter of a mill on the decor and there's two messed up CD decks in the far corner of the venue almost buried behind the bar. And when you protest about it you get responses like "Well we're in the bidness of selling drinks, not spending untold amounts money on sound." Nice fucking chandeliers Broseph, unfortunately I don't go out for bidness I go out to be ENTERTAINED, which connects to ENTERTAINMENT BUSINESS. You can walk into a hole in the wall in South Beach Miami and the soundsystem will rule, while here in SF, it's all about the bidness. Well if it is, do it right!

Orr