Sail Away: Behrouz Part 1

NYC summer is usually filled with one million possibilities. From free movies and concerts at every park to pool parties, water ballon fights for adults at Central Park, impromptou BBQs, and rooftop bar hopping. That is besides all the club parties (at least 10 on any given night). The possibilieties for almost free entertainment are endless; disconnecting your cable temporarily for summer makes a lot of sence since there is literally no time for TV. If you miss your cable programming too much you can always visit Times Square, park yourself in one of lawn chairs and watch the giant screens. Tourist watching is even more entertaining.

Don't get me wrong amongst all the excitement of summer there are few things about NY that are tough to handle: heat rising from the pavement, sticky subway platforms, smelly subway riders, garbage smell permeating blocks at a time, humidity levels to rival Florida and continuous hangover from all the parties.

This summer we had strange thunderstorms bordering on tornadoes and intermittent club closures. The former surely resulting from global warming and the later from community board harassment. At the rate NYC clubs are closing, pretty soon the party cruises might become an only way of nightlife.

Boarding a boat for a 4 hour cruise around Manhattan on Friday afternoon to the best house music soundtrack provided by myriad of DJs is the equivalent of paradise. Boys dressed in nautical stripes, girls in hot pants and high heels, pirates, captains and one gentleman soliciting kisses with a sign on his back that read: Kiss me it's My Birthday. Ridiculously fun crowd rocking the boat with good rowdy energy. There was a muse on a run, as she had a photographer following her around, taking pictures, apparently for a project. Delirious energy, cheap drinks and funny "rocking boat" dance moves, crowd watching here was inspiring.

I am not going to try and describe Behrouz set. What I really love about him is that he is a star that doesn't act like one. He is so excited to take over the decks that he transfers this excitement straight to the dance floor. His technique is immaculate and he feels the dance groove.
His set was pure perfection on the boat and 4 hours flew by as 1. Everyone was giggling while leaving the boat. Most fabulous summertime party period.

The Bitch is Back

I found my bitchy little muse exactly where I lost her, on the dance floor of Sullivan Room past Friday. A late spontaneous invitation saved me from another quiet Friday night with my Netflix choice de jour. It was raining monsoon style but stopped right in time for me to wear something fabulous. Hippie Gypsy went off to dance!
The night was about break dancers, the crowd's age was between 21 and 50 and everyone was enjoying the grove. Duece Martinez has clearly been inspired by Larry Levan and kicked off his set with a delightful homage to the master's undying legacy. As "Right In The Socket" was uniting the dancers for a night of unprecedented fun, I thought about how many DJs Larry Levan has inspired (at least 20).
I am too young to have been in Paradise Garage and I always felt I missed the best party NYC has ever seen. But the spirit of Garage lives on and Duece Martinez showed me what it was like to be there. Duece's style, although influenced by Larry and J. Vasquez as well, is uniquely his own. Deep House infused with tribal, soul and right touch of disco; technically perfect, soul inspiring and with buildups to spare. He didn't let us leave the dance floor.
Dancers were furiously flying, twirling and stepping. My heart was overwhelmed with joy and as I danced inside the infamous dance circle, holding my own ground, I noticed that my muse was making her way back to me shaking her tail feather as well. Aaaaaah reunited at last... I am thinking about getting her a leash and some handcuffs.
Solid true house with soulful percussion reigned; deep grove intricately interwoven with surprising vocals: Music is My Life, I feel Love, Music Makes Me Dance, Women Beat Their Men and many more...
Besides dancing everyone was mingling, exchanging compliments and striking conversations. Perfectly executed House party, Larry himself would have been proud.
As for me: I danced all my troubles away, found my muse, scored a date, and recovered my deeply rooted belief in House Music's higher purpose.
"True House Music is an instrument of God and if this instrument is used wisely it can change your soul"
Thank you Duece!

Muse on the Run

My muse has left me... The inspirational one, the one that I depend so much upon, when struggling to translate my ocean of feelings into words. Uncontrollable, discriminating of sound and true to herself and her passions, she usually sits inside my ear whispering interesting notes or annoyingly confirming my own thoughts of an impeding party disaster. When the party is contagious she dances right next to me and leaves my mind in peace. Next morning we write a story together, after breakfast...
The dire straits disappointment of Firecracker left me very hopeful for Derrick Carter's reappearance at Sullivan Room.

Derrick Carter, who by all means is a veteran of Chicago House progression. Derrick Carter, who brought Sullivan Room to climax in December of last year over and over and over again. Derrick Carter who can fuse just about any genre into his blanket of beats and drive the crowd wild.

Disclaimer: I understand that DJs are human and can have an "off "night.

Fine Print: As a performer (DJ) you are allowed to have a few "off" nights when you have a once a week residency in the same club, every Saturday. Not when you are visiting a place far away from home, filled with anticipating fans willing to brave stormy weathers to hear you.

I walked into Sullivan Room and the sound was pristine, pure balance in the sound system. Down Deep peeps had a full control of sound and dancers. Superbly groovy, the sound was almost too perfect. I did a double take and asked my favorite bartender Chris who was playing. Down Deep! Who are these people? Google search didn't produce any vital info, but whoever they are they were on fire. For the next 2 hours I danced to a very interesting selection of soulful deep house with experimental progressive trancy notes.
Mr. Carter was taking his time arriving at the decks, just like a star. He lingered on by the bar posing for pictures and wasn't too eager to take over the decks. When he did finally appear at the booth, he looked almost puzzled.

Mr. Carter did not know what to do with his set, he was unprepared. Repetitive base beat didn't change from beginning to my leaving time. He was trying to spice it up with some jazzy sounds, then soul sounds, back to jazzy sounds. Disorganised mixing without a theme or a feeling. When he felt truly out of touch with the mixer after about an hour of trying, he pulled out a vocal that worked really well last year. The trick didn't work. The crowd was moving slowly, fuelled only by anticipation of greatness and some drinks. There was no unity, soul or love. His sound was insanely loud and after pitch perfect sound of Down Deep, I started questioning Mr. Carter's technical abilities.
Still I waited for an hour and a half to hear something inspiring. After the standard 40 min warm up allowed for a star DJ, my muse left me without saying good bye. I left an hour later, simply because our time here is short and if I am not being pulled in emotionally by the DJ, I'd rather catch up on my sleep. When I got home the muse was nowhere to be found and I felt depleted. Not elevated... depleted. It took me a week to even write about it because the disappointment lingered on and pervaded my life. I certainly hope Mr. Carter can find his beautiful grove again.

Summer School: PS1

PS1 was built in 1900 and served as a school until 1963, by 1974 it was almost in shambles. A group of visionaries saved it from demolition in 1975 and converted it to an art space for emerging artists and genres that challenge preconceptions. In 1998 someone had a brilliant idea of hosting a day party in the school yard and bringing in globe trotting DJs. Warm Up party was born and has been the house music's aficionados destination for Saturday afternoon ever since.

It has the most diverse crowd and DJ lineup, the energy is always exhilarating but for the best experience there are some guidelines to follow:

1. Wear lose comfortable clothes, the yard is surrounded by high walls and doesn't get a draft; jeans get sticky after an hour (since you will be dancing your booty off). Ladies, your makeup will melt so bring a hand fan, you will look very stylish and stay cool at the same time.

2. Buy your drink tickets at the entrance, the bar operates on drink tickets and you will save yourself some time. Line for drink tickets + line for bar = missing great music

3. Children are welcome, if they can dance as well they will be the life of the party

4. Place gets crowded by 6 pm, so don't expect to have a lot of space on the dance floor after 6

5. Don't forget your camera, this place is unlike anything you have seen before (I once kissed a girl, It was a hot Kodak moment)

6. Measure your drinking because the bathroom wait is usually 30-45 min

7. Eat either prior to the party or go outside and grab a delicious hot dog from a street vendor, the line for food inside is another 30 min

8. Art installations are usually mind bending, so check them out while you are bored (rare but happens)

9. If you have friends who live in LIC, do your best to drag them out even if they tell you that they are so over PS1; this way you get in for free because of their coveted address (otherwise the entrance is $10)

10. Best time to watch break dancers is from 4 to 6

11. Don't expect the sound system to be top notch, it all depends on the sound engineer and it's an open space after all

12. If you smoke bring extra cigs, because you will be asked to share and all smokers know it's bad karma to be greedy with cigs (even at the new prices).

13. Bring your beautiful self, bring your most open and outgoing attitude with you, don't forget to dance and enjoy the ride :)

How do I spell Disaster???

Firecracker party last night at Hammerstein Ballroom, organized by Live Nation, was purely disastrous. I could not believe my ears. The sound was hollow, disproportional to the space, with a buzzy base and an echo to top it off. It sounded as if entire mid range was missing. Treble and base, my ears were almost bleeding.

Although the space was not filled to capacity, there were about 1,500 people there. Beautiful, exciting, young crowd. And they were barely dancing. Talking yes, walking around as well, smoking like crazy outside but not dancing. Why? Because the sound made their ears bleed as well, I saw plenty of people covering their ears. The DJs knew it too and played one uninspiring set after another. I arrived around 12 and I can't even tell you who was playing at the moment. The DJ booth was set very high and the light next to the stage was blinding, impossible to recognize the person playing. Well at least he was playing records, because I surely heard it skip twice before he fixed it and even though that is a nightmare for any DJ, it was comforting to hear a record skip. The only reason I recognised Steve Lawler was because he played exactly the same set he played for Radio 1 Essential Mix show hosted by Pete Tong in early May.

Lawler has not been in NYC since last August and he was playing the mix I downloaded from alldj.org and have been playing nonstop since then. Pure shame at $100 charge at the door. I left before Calderone even went on, because I just couldn't take it anymore and a very trustworthy source tells me it was a snooze fest. I will never attend another Live Nation event and I don't care if it's my favorite singer, if Live Nation is anywhere near it, I am not going. We really should have demanded our money back, because if you are going to charge people $100 in the middle of a worst recession you have to make us feel as if we are in Ibiza.

Oh yeah, and the dancers were terrible, very strange antics on the stage except for the girls. The girls were sexy, at some point even performing very beautiful drawn out ballet moves. The mascots (see pictures), moved in a very bizarre and vulgar fashion.

If club goers continue to swallow these half cooked productions and not voice their opinions we will keep getting the same crap. So if you were as disgusted by last night's performance as I was, I suggest you bombard the DJs on MySpace and Live Nation with emails describing exactly how you felt.

Fatboy Slim could teach Live Nation a few lessons, the crowd was on fire for 3 hours. The sound was beyond perfection and the light show was brilliant, $40 entrance by the way.

Even though I bought my ticket at the cheapest price ($33) for Firecracker, weeks in advance, when I left the place I felt raped. I am very serious and I don't use this term lightly.

Party Crashing 101

I don't know whether it's my proper Russian upbringing or lack of ballsiness, but I have never crashed a party in my life until now.
After the Gay Pride Parade ended, the excitement spilled onto the streets. Everyone was lingering around Meatpacking, house music blaring on high from every watering hall. Pride participants still dressed in their gorgeous attire getting sloshed right before the real parties begin. I met a friend of mine from Twilo days, he is an artist and a beauty queen.
Off we went towards Highline contemplating rolling around in the grass but it was closed. A party on the infamous 3rd floor of the Standard attracted our attention, everyone was on terrace smoking and looking stylish. Trying to get in through the front door was impossible because it was an invitation only, open bar event for gay elite of Manhattan. I would have given up right then and there, but my friend was determined to crash the party. Pretending that we were going to a party at one of the suites, we got off on the 5th floor since the 3rd floor elevator button was disabled. After making a few of wrong turns and going through a maze of stairs we found the right door and sneaked in. Strangely enough, it was an only party in the city where the DJ did not play a single Michael Jackson song. The dance floor was empty and everyone was on the terrace. The highlight of the evening was that I met Phillipe, who is a stunning blond queen in the picture with the most beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen and a glamour level I can hardly dream of. She had poise equally mixed with sweetness, a rare combination.
I was hoping to run into Steve Lewis, whose blog I am a huge fan of, but he was nowhere to be found. Instead Patrick McMullan surprised the hell out of me by saying he remembers me from a party I attended 7 years ago. The man has photographic memory.
My friend was tickled to be basking in luxury, I was bored. Drinks were tasty, music was awful and there were plenty of stuck up personalities. Sunday night the parties were outrageous, but as I had to work the next day I headed home right after fireworks. As I walked to a subway through crowded streets, I thought to myself that the best part of the evening was actually trying to find our way into the party, laughing in the stairway and getting lost.