Journey Through the Light (I)
[Last updated: 25.10.2005 18:12]
On Sunday we (Adrian Fillary, Jeremy Gilbert, Nikki Lucas, Colleen
"Cosmo" Murphy and myself, plus Iain Mackie, Simon Halpin (just plain
out there), Guillaume Chotin, Jo Littler, Emma Halpin, Sharon Reid,
Cedric Lassonde, Shannon Woo, David Starskey, Alex Pe Win, Tess
Lawrence, Cyrile Lassonde, Carlotta Balestra Lawrence [!] and loads of
people I'm sure I'm forgetting) put on our ninth party with David
Mancuso at the Light.
Here were three highlights:
Depeche Mode "Enjoy the Silence" (Timo Mass extended remix). When this song went on the turntable (if the music plays us, who knows where the energy-impulse came from?) the sound system came alive. For the first couple of hours I had been a mite disappointed. Our equipment ⎯ Klipschorns, Koetsus, the works ⎯ had sounded out of this world at the last party, but this time around it seemed to take longer to get going. Who knows why? Maybe the room's physical characteristics (body vs. space density, etc) were different. Maybe the records David was playing were less well produced (or maybe more worn). Maybe other perception-related factors (lightness/darkness, psychological wellbeing, etc) interfered with the aural experience. But on this record the warm, pulsing, infinitely detailed quality of the Klipschorns came to the fore.
Flying Rhythms "Doragon Balls' (Lastrum Corporation Records). I'd never heard this song before (thanks for the info, Simon!) and have been wisely informed that no matter how hard I try I'll never own a copy (thanks again, Si!). I'm reliably informed (you again, Si!) that this is a Loft regular, but I've never heard David play it before, and I've now chalked up a good twenty Loft/Light parties. That said, I wish I had heard it before and I want to hear it again. If memory serves ⎯ perceptions are becoming hazy two days after the event ⎯ it's a dubbed out percussion track, but if you don't know the record it'd be best to get the conception of a "track" out of your mind as there's nothing mundane about this record. The drama was intense. I've been enjoying listening to (and occasionally playing out) "Soul Drums" for the last year or so but, as far as percussion tracks go, "Doragon Balls" is far superior. It only takes a few of these experiences per party to make an evening worthwhile. This one was enough for me.
Celestial Choir "Stand on the Word". My energy tanks were beginning to run a little low before this song came on (more in a later blog) and the playing of "Stand on the Word" should have reduced them still further (again, more later), but it didn't. Instead I and the rest of the room went quite berserk, to the point where, in the middle of mass jumping and arm-raising, I briefly thought about the section in Love Saves the Day where I describe the moment that Nicky Siano used three turntables for the first time:
"I was playing 'Love Is the Message' and I was going into 'Girl You Need A Change of Mind'," Nicky told me during one of our umpteen interviews for the book. "In the background I had this sound effect of an aeroplane blasting, and the two records were playing and blending together." The crowd couldn't believe its ears. "They were just looking in the booth and going, 'Aagghh! Aaaagggghhhh!' They were jumping and screaming so loud that the floor started to move and the paint from the ceiling chipped onto Robin's desk, which was downstairs on the first floor."
David has played "Stand on the Word" pretty well at every London party so far (he does have his favourites, doesn't he? ☺ ), but I've never witnessed a reaction like this ⎯ not to this or any other record. After about thirty seconds I started to wonder if the floor was going to cave in. A few seconds later, as the dancing grew in intensity, I was too wrapped up to even think. Later, I found out that my good friend Roberta Cutolo, who is two weeks away from giving birth to her second kid (in bocca al lupo, cara!), thought better of staying in the middle of the dance floor and took temporary refuge in the outer edges. By the end of the record I was overcome with the feeling that if the music was indeed playing us it would have played "Stand on the Word" one more time.
So, thank you, Walter Gibbons, you crazy coot (because you were a bit of a crazy coot at the end, weren't you?) for finding this record during one of your Sunday morning trips to the First Baptist Church in Crown Heights in 1982 (see my Walter Gibbons liner notes elsewhere on this site for more…). You are quite simply the only DJ/music presenter who could have come close to unearthing this gem. Sweet, organic and uplifting, it captures the best life, and the dance floor, including our little dance floor upstairs at the Light every three months, has to offer.
Next: Journey Through the Light (II) (and hopefully some photos)…
Here were three highlights:
Depeche Mode "Enjoy the Silence" (Timo Mass extended remix). When this song went on the turntable (if the music plays us, who knows where the energy-impulse came from?) the sound system came alive. For the first couple of hours I had been a mite disappointed. Our equipment ⎯ Klipschorns, Koetsus, the works ⎯ had sounded out of this world at the last party, but this time around it seemed to take longer to get going. Who knows why? Maybe the room's physical characteristics (body vs. space density, etc) were different. Maybe the records David was playing were less well produced (or maybe more worn). Maybe other perception-related factors (lightness/darkness, psychological wellbeing, etc) interfered with the aural experience. But on this record the warm, pulsing, infinitely detailed quality of the Klipschorns came to the fore.
Flying Rhythms "Doragon Balls' (Lastrum Corporation Records). I'd never heard this song before (thanks for the info, Simon!) and have been wisely informed that no matter how hard I try I'll never own a copy (thanks again, Si!). I'm reliably informed (you again, Si!) that this is a Loft regular, but I've never heard David play it before, and I've now chalked up a good twenty Loft/Light parties. That said, I wish I had heard it before and I want to hear it again. If memory serves ⎯ perceptions are becoming hazy two days after the event ⎯ it's a dubbed out percussion track, but if you don't know the record it'd be best to get the conception of a "track" out of your mind as there's nothing mundane about this record. The drama was intense. I've been enjoying listening to (and occasionally playing out) "Soul Drums" for the last year or so but, as far as percussion tracks go, "Doragon Balls" is far superior. It only takes a few of these experiences per party to make an evening worthwhile. This one was enough for me.
Celestial Choir "Stand on the Word". My energy tanks were beginning to run a little low before this song came on (more in a later blog) and the playing of "Stand on the Word" should have reduced them still further (again, more later), but it didn't. Instead I and the rest of the room went quite berserk, to the point where, in the middle of mass jumping and arm-raising, I briefly thought about the section in Love Saves the Day where I describe the moment that Nicky Siano used three turntables for the first time:
"I was playing 'Love Is the Message' and I was going into 'Girl You Need A Change of Mind'," Nicky told me during one of our umpteen interviews for the book. "In the background I had this sound effect of an aeroplane blasting, and the two records were playing and blending together." The crowd couldn't believe its ears. "They were just looking in the booth and going, 'Aagghh! Aaaagggghhhh!' They were jumping and screaming so loud that the floor started to move and the paint from the ceiling chipped onto Robin's desk, which was downstairs on the first floor."
David has played "Stand on the Word" pretty well at every London party so far (he does have his favourites, doesn't he? ☺ ), but I've never witnessed a reaction like this ⎯ not to this or any other record. After about thirty seconds I started to wonder if the floor was going to cave in. A few seconds later, as the dancing grew in intensity, I was too wrapped up to even think. Later, I found out that my good friend Roberta Cutolo, who is two weeks away from giving birth to her second kid (in bocca al lupo, cara!), thought better of staying in the middle of the dance floor and took temporary refuge in the outer edges. By the end of the record I was overcome with the feeling that if the music was indeed playing us it would have played "Stand on the Word" one more time.
So, thank you, Walter Gibbons, you crazy coot (because you were a bit of a crazy coot at the end, weren't you?) for finding this record during one of your Sunday morning trips to the First Baptist Church in Crown Heights in 1982 (see my Walter Gibbons liner notes elsewhere on this site for more…). You are quite simply the only DJ/music presenter who could have come close to unearthing this gem. Sweet, organic and uplifting, it captures the best life, and the dance floor, including our little dance floor upstairs at the Light every three months, has to offer.
Next: Journey Through the Light (II) (and hopefully some photos)…