AJ Dance Legacy

 

BLACK COFFEE

 

Load. Lock.  Click. Boom.  I’ve been shot by a South African DJ.

 

Coffee is a feel-good addictive substance.  The early legend of Kaldi states, when the Ethiopian goatherd saw his goats eat coffee berries from a certain tree, the goats grew so spirited they were unable to sleep at night.  Soon after, during the 15^th century-coffee seeds, yes seeds not beans-traveled from the region of southern Arabia, North Africa, Middle East, Europe and then to the Americas.  Along the journey coffee developed distinct flavors in certain regions of the world by the importers of the seed.

House music is a feel-good addictive anomaly.  When discovered in America during the late 20^th century by overseas music enthusiasts, house music’s sound was handpicked, cupped, roasted, ground, brewed, and filtered into a regional dialect they could call their own.  Over time, the world would morph and shuffle the 4-to-the-floor sound to align with their regional tastes.

South Africa’s house music and Durham born Nkosinathi Maphumulo are the above examples.  As South Africa’s popularity of deep/soulful house music has eclipsed its popularity stateside or perhaps worldwide at any particular time during house music’s lifespan; artist Nkosinathi music’s styling is deep, mildly bitter yet extremely rich with robust flavors.  South Africa house music and Nkosinathi are addicting forces.  Each possesses curious fascinations; where Nkosinathi claims soulful house music, the music that mainstream Black America refuses to acknowledge, as his own and the voice of his beloved South Africa; South Africa house music has become a disputable bond to all things Africa-some kind of noir roots that binds lost heritage of self-identity discovery through black music.  The attraction lies somewhere between the two.  Bottom line: The Diaspora of Africa soul has returned full circle to its indigenous people. 

DJ BE

There is a line outdoors.  An actual line!  Native South Africans mingle with out-of-towners who mingle with local family, all are giddy with anticipation.  Sixty degree temperatures marks spring’s arrival.  Spring feels great.  Spring laughs.  Spring blows a mild breeze.  How refreshing.  In the line, various shades of brown agree. 

When “Take Me To My Love,” another Ralf Gum hit featuring Monique Bingham on vocals greets guests, the event is sure to be rewarding.  Tambor’s resident, DJ BE serves up the unreleased afro remix followed by an extreme outpouring of soul fro house that seems generous enough, if not superfluous.  

The venue’s main and largest room is shell-shocked with activity.  Afro house plays the soundtrack to a March Madness game playing on two monitors in the back of the room.  Serious dancers occupy speakers.  Several familiar faces, not seen in ages, occupy tables.  Drinks and small plates are ordered.  Staff scurries about the room waiting on tables and clearing empty glasses. Upstairs a private party packs the VIP area.  Activity aside, this party is destined to put the capital T back into Tambor.            

DJ Mike Dunn

Surprise!!!  Chicago’s famed producer/remixer/DJ Mike Dunn appears onstage wearing a black baseball cap and facial frown.  Is playing at Tambor that bad?

At Tambor, South Africa is not the only movement rising but too the dance floor.  B boys showoff tightly executed choreography of syncopated steps and triple spins.  While B girls pop and lock in robotic staccato.  The dance circle spells s-e-r-i-o-u-s.   

Mouths drop.  Digital recorders rise.  Look onstage.  All hail South Africa’s flag.  Its diplomat arrives.   Nkosinathi Maphumulo.  AKA Black Coffee. 

Radio Star

DJ Black Coffee opens with a compelling narrative of R’n’B.  The sound most fit for urban radio than club ready.  This is the material that stateside adult urban-contemporary radio should play intermingled next to R’n’B’s royalty.  Romantic vocals conquer bleeding hearts.  Slow-motion beats per minute.  Global melodies of global dance.  Detailed song writing-a craft amiss in most American house music- enough to warrant prestigious academy awards.  An afro world filled with rapturous lyrics, percolating percussions that ooze soul in all matters.  Perhaps the sound is difficult to digest for aged house purists. While newbies to the scene, short swallow the sing-alongs. 

“Take Me To My Love” sings a jazzy a capella vocal until a soft percussion strikes.  The commencement of beats begins.  The Raw Artistic Soul Vocal Dub of the Ralf Gum track sets the mood for what is to come.  Sampled drum loops, minimal instruments, dazzling dancing keys, warm strings and sporadic handclaps play in the atmosphere.  Black Coffee wastes no time.  He pounds the drums and drops the music with skilled precision.  Monique Bingham’s vocals spin “On and on and on and on and on and on and on and on,” across the room, until she commands, “I want you to lead me.” This is what the crowd anticipates Black Coffee to do.  But the cautious spectators ask, “Where to?”   

“MOVE.”  Black Coffee commands the audience on his latest import. Once again, where to?  Moving or dancing proves difficult.  Bodies are packed tight like addicts in line awaiting a caffeine fix.  Apropos, Tambor has not seen these numbers of bodies in years.  Regardless, Black Coffee featuring Soulstar is out to “Rock My World.”  Sadly the song rocks nothing.   

“Her Majesty/The Queen Is In The Booth/Come To The Dance Floor.”  Poetress Busiswa Gqulu’s command actually works.   Additional mini-shorts and stiletto spikes arrive to dance on the already packed floor.  Voices scream.  Arms fly in the air.  A dub of South African’s premier female disc jockey, DJ Zhile’s “My Name Is” brings the house down.

The Art of Mixing

Black Coffee is dark roasted.  He gives the people a taste of his original home brew.  The flavor not found on street corners at specialty baristas or copy-cat retail chains.  His brew goes deep. Dark.  Robust.  There are no floor fillers.  No sugar.  No cream.  Black Coffee gives it raw. 

The super DJ puts a fresh brew on his past; Zakes Bantwini a cappella conjures “JuJu,” Thiwe’s haunting ache sounds on “Crazy” and Bucie says, “Turn Me On.”  Dark clouds give way to light.  Dispair turns to hope.  DJ Kent arrives.  Just as vocalist Malehloka Hlalele sings the hook on, “Falling,” the music drops into a sleek sexy R’n’B slow burner that floors every mouth in the entire room.  DJ Black Coffee leaves the radio sound behind for the art of mixing.  Look out! 

Black Coffee is on fire.  And so is the room.  The room’s heat index breaks scorching records.  Feeling uncomfortable?  Honestly. This is to be expected when two-hundred plus hot mochas are dancing and sweating. 

DJ Kent turns DJ Superman.  As the Princess of House, Bucie loudly proclaims “Superman.”  The crowd approves with vocal praise.     

Out of nowhere like a speeding bullet.  Black Coffee surprises with Louie Vega & Jay “Sinister” Sealee’s golden, “Diamond Life,” starring Julie McKnight on vocal lead.    The crowd sings.  They can’t control themselves, neither can Black Coffee.  Rhythm and blues a cappellas dialogue for one hook and one verse over sonic booms of tribal tech dialect.  The mixing is just the way the audience prefers their coffee.  Black.  Hot.  Strong.  No froth.  In the midst of the action Black Coffee uses his index finger to stop the music and strike a round button aglow on the disc player.  He moves his index finger right to the mixer and then to his laptop where he drops EFX.  The music starts again.  The people dance.  The music stops.  Black Coffee nods his head to the tune of the sounding EFX.  The music starts again.  The people go mad.  The music stops again.  Black coffee nods his head to a lock and load gunshot EFX.  Black Coffee, through the music, fires a gunshot at the audience.  The music starts again.  People fall over each other.  Digital cameras and mobile devices record the entertainment.  Mouths of DJs in the room are awestruck at the spectacle.  All of Black Coffee’s mixing is executed with one arm and one hand.  He can’t be contained.  As if Coffee’s mixing brilliance could not enter the stratosphere of mixing genius, it does.  Theatric horns sound.  The tune the entire world recognizes sounds.  People catch their breaths.  Jack Son’s “Thrill Her” falls upon the crowd.  South Africa’s Black Motion treatment releases the most excited fanaticism of the party.  If weave and wigs fall off this would be the time.  The room goes ape shit.  Pandemonium is unleashed. 

If a DJ playing the same song (different remix) twice in the night is not your cup of coffee.  Too bad.  Black Coffee delivers another fresh cup of DJ Zhile’s, “My Name Is,” this version contains Busiswa Gqulu’s vocals in full, spoken in both English and indigenous tongue Xhosa, also extracted from the SA collection of the song’s many recently released remixes.  The song of the party goes to Ralf Gum’s “Take Me To My Love” that plays for the third time.  An unreleased remix keeps the song fresh, piping hot and enjoyable.  Throwing dance hall in the mix, Masters At Work featuring Puppah Nas-T’s “Work” gyrates hips as vocalist Denise commands the crowd to, “Go Down” which they do.  The room’s temperature increases a notch.  Someone might have to call the fire department to put the coffee pot out.  Actually things cool off a bit with a remix to the late Whitney Houston’s “How Will I Know.”  Uh oh.  DJ Stan Zeff walks onstage.  This signals the brew is about to exchange hands.  However, Black Coffee is not ready to exit without another scorcher. This time MJ’s “Billie Jean” (Rocco Deep Mix) is on tap.  The crowd goes crazy.  They are too distracted to note…“Tambor.  Give it up for the man Black Coffee.”

DJ Stan Zeff

To ease everyone off their caffeine high, DJ Stan Zeff plays Black Coffee’s “We Are One” featuring South African trumpet great Hugh Masekela.  The time reads 2 am.  Family faces stream through the door arriving from an earlier concert.  Stan Zeff is primed to serve them some brew.  Tambor Music’s debut release “Set Me Free” (Stan Zeff Vocal Mix) by Mr. Funk Daddy featuring DJ Sue sweetens the crowd.  Black Coffee’s music partner Culoe De Song shows off his remix to the South African band, Goldfish with “Call Me.”  At one point, a seafood chain’s LobsterFest commercial, playing on the room’s back monitors, proves more entertaining. Alas, DJ Stan Zeff being the professional he is places the focus back on the music with Kee Lo’s “Sad Soul.”  The Baffa Jones’ Vocal Destruction Dub destroys the dance floor with sliced vocals bouncing against chopping chords over minimalist drums.  The mighty O’Jays play closer with “Darlin’ Darlin’ Baby (Sweet, Tender, Love)” a 4-to-the floor number that rides into the moonlight. 

DJ Black Coffee proved why he is addictive.  In his native South Africa the beloved DJ/producer/songwriter packs out futbol stadiums.  The same ethos is what Black Coffee brought to Tambor with numbers far less than thousands.  The ability to supersede great expectations of hype and glory of DJ extraordinaire showed uncanny.  These are the ingredients of a true DJ.  No froth.  All substance.  Much like the Kaldi Legend, when you taste the potent brew of Black Coffee there is no sleeping tonight. 

Words and Photography by AJ Dance

Pullman Soul Presents Humble Legends Kai Alce, DJ Kemit & Ron Pullaman

 

The Holy Trinity of The Atlanta House Scene!  The Father, The Son, and the Holy Spirit!-Everybody’s Favorite Photographer

 

“I drove into the parking lot. 

I saw a neon church sign above the door.

I think.  Oh, they changed the name of the club to the church just for tonight. 

After all, people posted, “amen“ and “hallelujahs” online. 

So I walked up to the church door.

I read Jesus saves.

Oops.  Wrong place.

C’mon.  What church has a neon sign?”

-Sister Pickens

 

“We raise our hands in the sanctuary.”  Not.  Where’s the music?  A chill greets the early visitors.  Enter the foyer and be ushered down a dark hallway.  The sanctuary sits still in complete silence.  Only the voices of three fit and young bartenders, barely old enough to not be alter boys, decorate the sound sphere.  Far away, shadows move about.  They test the sound system.  The time reads fifteen after six. 

 

There stands a lengthy black painted rectangle bar.  Above the impressive stacks of spirits hang two dazzling crystal chandeliers aglow in red.  On the floor sits two massive stacks of speakers.  Each is positioned at the corner of a theatrical veil that hides a stage.  The room’s focal point, the dance floor awaits action in majestic splendor underneath a state of the art LED that performs an acrobatic light show.  Adding to the ambience a machine spews vapor.  In the fog, behind the dance floor sits another black bar underneath another crystal chandelier set a fire in orange next to the DJ area.  The DJ booth that hovers six feet off the ground is spacious  enough to accommodate any DJ and his/her disciples.

 

Adjacent the DJ booth a narrow corridor leads to the holy of holies.  What is a church without a kitchen?  And what is a church kitchen for without cooking?  Anyone for a church dinner?  Instead of fried chicken, mac n’ cheese wantons is on the menu.  Just as fine.  Both are fried in grease.  Look up.  There on the monitor.  Whitney Houston delivers church through song and dance on a remixed house megamix. 

 

The Holy Trinity

                 

From the pulpit, Minister Of Sound Ron Pullman welcomes the growing congregation to his brainchild, Humbled Legends.  The city’s debut celebration of its kind.  Underneath a giant disco ball the sanctuary’s wooden dance floor embraces love ones.  Brother Pride arrives.  Sister Pickens is nearby.  So are many others.  The people partake in fellowship of perfect harmony.  Minister of Sound Ron Pullman pays tribute.  “Thank You,” sings BeBe Winans over a Masters At Work 12’ mix. 

                                                                                                                                             

Minister Of Sound Kai Alce invites the growing congregation to worship.  The massive speakers bestow “Pienso En Ti” into the atmosphere.  Translation: Masters At Work’s “I Think Of You” declares the atmosphere righteous for divine purpose.  The NDATL.com founder delivers “People Hold On” (New Jersey Jazz Remix) and “Walking’ (Remix).  If Coldcut featuring Lisa Stansfield makes feet dance, then Mary Mary makes feet praise.  Grab the tambourine, it’s church time!

 

While all three Ministers Of Sound are one in the spirit of house music, all three are so unique in their ministry of sound.  Each brings a diverse element of energy that is united underneath the umbrella of soul.  Where ministers Ron and Kai’s classic sets felt a tad tired, Minister Kemit appears spirit-filled, energized and ready to deliver a  contemporary word.

 

“When Kemit plays the tempo of the room changes,” observes one sister.  Indeed the room glows.  Honestly Minister Of Sound Kemit glows.  With his head tilted upwards and his arms stretched towards the heavens the music maestro is ready to preach.  Once again, BeBe Winans shows up, this time with brother Pastor Marvin L. Winans and Stevie Wonder on Stevie’s cover “Jesus Children of America” (Big Moses Remix).  Kenny Bobien testifies “I Shall Not Be Moved.” The Underground Ministries’ anthem moves hearts.  Johnny Corporate’s, equipped with singing gospel vocals, “Sunday Shoutin’” makes hands clap and feet stomp.  Born-again Terrance Parker takes the congregation on high with “Love’s Got Me High.”  Elements of Life featuring Lisa Fischer and Cindy Mizelle let their little lights shine on “Into My Life (You Brought the Sunshine).”  The night’s anointed shocker.  “You’re The Lover Of My Heart/The Captain Of My Sea” sings Yolanda Adams on “Open My Heart” (Silk’s Spiritual Workout), her love letter to the Most High, over a bed of sliced disco.  Folks these ain’t your granddad’s hymnals or your grandma’s church service. 

 

Although, dotting the room, the many grey hairs and dun flops signal grandparent’s status.  Perhaps the new face of geriatrics is the soulful house market.  At one point more cellulite occupied black leather padded pews, uh-hmm couches, than bodies burning calories on the wooden floor.  Maybe the people’s bunions hurt.  Maybe their bodies tire.  Hallelujah anyway, as Minister Of Sound Kai returns to the pulpit and plays “Church” (Sting International Remix) by Peven Everett.  This time the sanctuary is jumping with bodies caught in the spirit of dance.  One dancer cheerfully notes, “What an amazing turnout for a Sunday night!” 

    

Perhaps Minister of Sound Kemit wholly sums up the celebratory atmosphere with one song. “Spread Love.”  Track number thirteen on his heavy-accolade long player “,Everlasting,” speaks of congregating in peace, unity and most of all love.  Listen closely as Kemit encourages people to live by example and lead out of the act and ability to spread love through music and dance.  After all, “We Are Gathered Here In This Place” sings  the song’s vocalist, Atlanta’s Sepensenahki.