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.