Posts Tagged ‘Cullen Cole’

15.01.23 ADULT SKATE – THE MLK EDITION

January 28, 2023

Prologue 

“How long does it take to get a damn bottled water?” The bartenders dressed in shoulder less black halters are wearing black masks. By 2 pm, people are tripping over, slightly inebriated, or buzzed from Moscow Mules or whatever trendy libations are du jour. You’ve waited so long at the bar that you start a conversation with a lady wearing micro braids. 

“What’s the wait about?” She asks over Akabu featuring Ovasoul7’s “Raw Love” (Joey Negro Club Mix).  Pockets of prime real estate appear. As the crowd thins.  That allows you to spin around and two-step adjacent the libation station as you wait and wait and wait.  Eyeing the servers inching away, further south the rectangle bar.  All you want is a bottled water.  

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ADULT SKATE-MLK EDITION 14 MOST DEFINING MOMENTS

January 20, 2020

ADULT SKATE-MLK EDITION

Starring: KAI ALCE, RON PULLMAN & CULLEN COLE

19.01

No roller skates are rented.

No roller skates are permitted.

No in-line skates are rented.

No roller blades are permitted.

Adult Skate is not a roller rink.

Adult Skate is an annual event where various tribes gather to dance to the hottest disco and house music south of the Mason-Dixon in the wee morning hours of the Dr. Martin Luther King Junior Holiday at MJQ Concourse on perhaps the coldest night of the year thus far. Listed is the top 14 defining moments & music played at Adult Skate-MLK Edition.    

14.  Warming up to the First Lady of Paradise Garage. The late Gwen Guthrie’s “It Should Have Been You” meanders into talking guitars and finger snaps provided by The Steve Silk Hurley Mix of

13.  Yolanda Adam’s prayerful anthem that has arms elevated and voices belting “Open My Heart.”

12.  Next, riding the disco thumper via heart-pounding four counts courtesy, DJ Kemit presents The Lounge Lizards featuring Jill Rock Jones’ “Wake Up & Stand Up” (Kai Alcé KZR Dubstrumental) as the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Junior proclaims “Let Freedom Ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia” from his beloved “I Have A Dream” speech that scorches dancing feet and heats up the party.

11.  Is that Cinthie’s “Everything I Say?

10.  Hearing the galactic sounds of Sandman & Riverside featuring Jeremy Ellis’ “Into Your Story.” The Kai Alcé Distinctive Remix, enough said.

09.  Boom!!! Detroit Techno steps into the room. Kevin Saunderson presents Inner City’s “Good Life,” causes ears to bleed, not from the content, but the volume that is pitched to screeching decibels. 

08.  Experiencing the jazz ambience of Gregory Porter’s “On My Way To Harlem” (Kai Alcé Interpretation Radio Edit) that closes Kai’s musical selection. 

07.  Watch out! Onstage, don’t get stabbed by the spikes of stilettos from the woman wearing big hair. 

06.  Sharing hearty hugs with familiar faces from yesteryear; the King, the 2-stepper, and the Tambourine Man.   

05.  Ron Pullman taking the decks and surprises playing Tamia’s “Still” (D.F.A Mix). 

04.  Smiling as Mrs. Nightingale with eyes closed mouths every lyric to Shaun Escoffery’s “Space Rider” (Spinna & Ticklah Mix). 

03.  Behold, standing, surrounded in a zombie apocalypse of mouths lipping, “If I lose my woman.” The sight is uncanny. Even Mr. Kai Alcé is entranced, 2 stepping, spinning around and singing on cue to the classic Kenny Lattimore (Masters At Work Remix). 

02.  Experiencing the peak hour rush of being raptured by Peven Everett’s “Burning Hot.” The Timmy Regisford & Adam Rios Mix ignites the room in flames. Sending dancers to the floor and bodies capsizing midair. 

01.  The AS-MLK Edition’s brainchild Cullen Cole getting on the decks and delivering spaced-out sounds.

wrds: aj dance

grphcs: aj art

 

GREENHOUSE 23.06.13

June 24, 2013

Visuals: AJ Dance

ADULT SKATE THE TRADITION EDITION 20.01.13

January 21, 2013

ADULT SKATE: THE TRADITION EDITION

 

The debauchery eludes no evidence of a slain civil right’s leader holiday celebration on the eve of an historic Fifty-Seventh Presidential Inauguration.  Yet it is.  Olympic occasions such as these might call to mind dutiful citizens bound in prayer, reflection and sobriety.  Not so-in the city too busy to hate.  For the past few years, once a year, one party does it right.  Adult Skate- the spot where you find bodies fully clothed in dance of the finest soul and not where nudes frolic on eights.  The Tradition Edition provides Soulantans with clarity.  A rhyme for the reason.  The right to party.  After all, this is the city too busy partying during a three day holiday weekend to even care. 

Follow the wall of painted marching feet and a pair of roller skates down into the belly of the beast.  There you might discover unexpected impressions.  The once shady hole-in-the-wall has undergone a sub-level gloss.  Artistic interpretations-seemingly too innocent for the underground-align murals painted in primary bold and subdued hues.  Painted lines of symmetry play escort.  The walls speak.  Their message instructs each person’s activity.  Look no further than the wall adjacent the stage painted of dancing silhouettes for explanation.  Eye the painted dancers to the painted symmetric boxes to find the DJ headquarters.  The king-size DJ booth can handle a god-complex DJ and his twenty plus entourage’s exclusive roped-off experience.  Remember the former DJ booth propped high above the flying saucer dance floor, against a wall, by a step ladder with no roaming space and very little to if any breathing space?  The sober challenged provided many of laughs trying to enter the minuscule infirmity.  If only the black poll in the center of the dance space were removed then the space would enter into the echelons of upscale.  Even the bathrooms are polished a luster shine of their former shade.  Hopefully gone are the apocalyptic size cockroaches that crawled atop the old sofas exchanged for pest-free plush.  Although the Modern Jazz Quartet Concourse may look remixed it has not lost its license to dance.

The belly of the beast bops and bumps.  Bellows of boisterous bass lines signal all nations to groove. They get down-the house nation, the soul nation, the disco nation, the b-boy nation, the rock nation, the funk nation, the hip-hop nation, the indie music nation, the rhythm nation-a vast network interweaving and intermingling as one. 

DJ Kemit

DJ Kemit, in mid groove, spins vinyl on the one’s and two’s.  Yes, that is two turntables and a Bozak mixer.  Actually this is a 90% acetate party.  Records will skip.  Grooves will be scratched.  The crisp sound of vinyl will chirp.  This is organic and not archaic sound reproduction.

Producer Ralf Gum shakes maracas.  Vocalist Monique Bingham singsTake Me To My Love.”  The dancers go on and on and on and on and on and on as they try to catch up to 125 BPMs.  Enter Osunlade’sEnvision(Yoruba Soul Mix) who guests on the DJ of the hour’sTransformfor conscious clarity.   Cue Kenny Bobien to take the hand clappers to church with a classic Frankie Feliciano Ricanstruction rendition.  Feet dance.  Fingers snap.  Hips sway.  Smiles overtake faces.  Voices sing “Father.”

DJ Cullen Cole

Cullen Cole the chef of music culinary delights.  Nineteen-ninety’s house music is the menu.  Cullen serves that signature house sound with a kick and a spicy side of bang.  This concoction is not for the faint, those that play down the beat in their house sets, but for those that take the BPMs up a notch.  Cullen’s house music tastes better served hard than soft.  Adult Skate’s guests gather and feast on such delicate soul.  Oh my do they ever gobble up the tasty treats as wine glasses over flowing with golden bubbles are thrown in the air for a toast.  Cheers to underground house music!  It’s a bombastic feast of oral audio.  Cullen mixes; a Rhode organ for salt, saxophones for sweetness, and electric synthesizers for acidity, house music’s flavor combination. Not everyone can digest such delicacies.  Something erupts.  A foul odor chokes the air.  Is it bad gas?  Or someone serving hash for desert?  Whatever the culprit.  Mouths hack.  Neck scarves become oxygen masks.

Suddenly, the needle on the record skips.  Someone forgot to clean off the vinyl?  The dancers miss a beat.  The music jumps counts.  The dancers are thrown off.  Jaws drop.  The question-What would a DJ do?-hangs in the balance.  Hard-pressed visages confront unbelief.  A wreck will occur if something does not yield.  DJ Cullen stays the course like a blond-hair blue-eye Messiah.  He does not allow any casualties.  He eyes his flock.  He counts his sheep.  He rides out the storm and speaks, peace be still.   Dark clouds roll back.  The sun shines again.  The music continues its mission without distraction.  The dancers continue their dance.  All is well.  Listen closely.  The room breathes a sigh of relief.

Kai Alce

Kai Alce goes in deep.  The local legend’s musical statement sounds off focus and more sporadic at intervals.  Orchestrated strings climax to a dizzying high.  Questions swirl around the room, “Is it time for disco?  One answers in grief, “If so, it’s time to leave.”

Actually, the NDATL label head keeps it Strictly Rhythm with Hardrive’sDeep Inside.”  The intro sounds of warm pads, minus drums.  Sixty seconds later, the kick drum kicks at 124 BPMs.  Pearly whites flash.  All are happy.  The mismatch of songs and beats continues.  Such happenings keep the crowd frantic but on their feet and guessing.  What’s next?  Donnie’sOlmec Save Us.” (Yoruba Soul Mix)  Yes!  Black Rascals featuring Cassio Ware, “So In Love” (Shelter Remix)?  Yes!  As time approaches 3 am, Kai Alce pulls out the freedom season’s anthems, Kemitic Just’s, “I Got Life” with Terrance Downs on vocals and the ladies anthem “Earth Is The Place(Restless Soul Peaktime Mix) by Nathan Haines featuring Verna Francis.  Too bad the room is nearly empty of souls that have evaporated into January’s cold night’s air.

This tradition edition felt far removed from a MLK celebration.  Had it not been for DJ Kemit sprinkling into Cullen’s cuisine-let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia-those gathered might have forgotten what this occasion marked.  Other ingredients amiss were classic soul, disco and afro-beat.  House music out shined them all.  If you were not a fan then you were chopped.  True fans, actually, left the party high.

Perhaps, Dr. King might not have endorsed this debacle of behavior.  As one darling eloquently commented, “That didn’t stop her from lighting a BIG one.”  SHM.  It’s just another night in the city too busy partying to even care.

Words and photography by AJ Dance

ADULT SKATE TRADITION EDITION 15.01.12

January 16, 2012

Photography by John Crooms

DAWN TALLMAN @ GREENHOUSE 25.06.11

June 26, 2011

Photography by Carlos Bell

THE TRADITION EDITION 16.01.11

January 17, 2011

THE TRADITION EDITION

“Guys we’re closed. The DJ’s car broke down but he’s on his way. Trust me, once he arrives we will open,” mentioned the gruff, goateed gatekeeper.

 

The night consisted of boisterous headscarves, receded hairlines and silver beards. Not only were the afro-centrist out but so were the vanilla explorers all making their annual journey to the music Mecca. Every walk of life from every part of town would join the ranks of the holy land’s pilgrimage. It was MLK weekend. Sunday night’s meeting place was MJQ and the night’s destination was Freedom Village.

MJQ, the dark, dingy and shady underground shack trapped in the middle of a retail business complex of shops and restaurants, sat hidden from the naked eye. The club’s main entrance and main room were closed off for the night. After all, it was the Sabbath and bars were normally closed due to dry Sunday sales. However, MJQ’s Café, the second room; a space no larger than the interior of one of those shoebox shaped automobiles was the night’s party bus. In the room barely lit by red strobe lights, a 3 by 6 feet DJ booth was perched against the front wall. Underneath a painted ceiling a lone disco ball shimmered over a wooden floor which was practically empty with dancing feet. Along the left side of the café sat a drab bar, with no flashy wall mirror or glass liquor bottles, that entertained most of the room’s guests. Besides the single bartender that bounced back and forth in delight of patron’s tabs and tips, not much kept the eye inspired. Except for the door-less unisex bathroom area towards the room’s rear equipped with three stalls that actually received more business than the bar. Uhmmmm.

In the heart of the dance floor, a few guys chatted with beers in hands while a couple of gals danced with each other. Although the pilgrimage started out with a handful of gatherers, this would soon change as additional pilgrims joined those in rank dancing on the floor. Alas, the musical journey was set to begin.

Cullen Cole with 1970’s porn-stache, of former MJQ Deep fame, started the night’s bon voyage traveling southbound on Deep House Lane. Cullen provided the sounds that were not only soft on the ears but easy on the feet. The grooves, so deep and mellow, cleverly blasted from large speakers with clear and precise sound. Every knock, beep and burp could be heard within an ear split of the audio equipment set about the place. There was one large speaker and subwoofer positioned in the front of the space near the DJ booth and another large speaker in the back of the room near sitting benches. Whoever hooked up the sound system did one heck of a job to ensure massive eargasms of auditory delight. No one would have any qualms about traveling the distance, if these sounds accompanied the trekkers.

The musical journey was off to a rave start. Twenty or so minutes later, the box was completely packed from wall to wall with bodies in motion. There barely existed breathing room. The room became so hot it felt more like a mass Hebrew exodus from Egypt in the summer’s hot desert sun than a winter night out in a club.

Before long the smooth sounds of deep house gave way to afro-beat. Unbeknownst, the legendary DJ Kemit was behind the dashboard and made a mad left turn onto Afro-Beat Parkway. With the volume turned up to full blast, Kemit kept the Fela Kuti coming to a room of hyper-acting-like children in the backseat of a car on a long voyage before being released at a fast food restaurant’s play area. People stood up on benches, threw their arms in the air and roared like jungle lions. WTH?

As if that weren’t enough, DJ Kemit had the audacity to make a sharp right onto Disco Drive as BT Express, “Peace Pipe poured from the box’s speakers. An escalating stream of hoots, hollers and whistles let loose. Once again, the crowd went absolutely bonkers and displayed a mad scene of bedlam.

The excitement didn’t subside as Michael Jackson commanded the crowd to, “Get On The Floor” and dance with him. Within the song’s disco break, lil’ sister Janet arrived and took control with “Go Deep” (Masters At Work Thunder Mix). The song’s spiritual flute played under Dr. Martin Luther King’s famous proclamation, “I have A Dream.” With a slow fade the music disappeared into oblivion as Dr. King’s vocals were the only sounds left standing in the room of rousing handclaps and stunned visages. One would have thought the people had reached their destination, Freedom Village, but they were a plenty miles away. So the music continued with Donnie’s, “Holiday.”

Like a pillar of fire by night, DJ Kemit continued to lead the voyagers eastward on Funk Avenue before making a quick right south on Soul Boulevard. The multi-ethnicity crowd followed suit and haphazardly danced and sung through the skyscraper laden city streets of Music Town, for they knew their music maestro would lead them to safe pastures.

However for some, a dose of fresh air was greatly needed. Some experienced car sickness and needed a quick, ‘catch my breath.’ Honestly, the box was just too hot with heat and sweaty bodies, not to overlook the gray cloud of cigarette smoke that hovered over the crowd.

After a quick cigarette break for some and a burst of fresh air for others while dancing in the café’s foyer, the crowd danced off Soul Boulevard and onto Interstate 101 a.k.a. House Music Highway. Percussions from talking drums lightly banged as a female’s voice thundered from the heavens that welcomed the trekkers to Dennis Ferrer’s, “The Red Room.” One quick glance around revealed that the pilgrims were in the red light district of town. Hooray!!!

The sweet scent of sex permeated the air. A soft touch, gentle rub or warm hug from someone meant more than a friendly “hello.” Such gestures were masked with carnal sexual desires. Throughout the free(k) zone, flesh groped flesh, groins gyrated against waists and wet kisses were exchanged with total strangers. Yes, the freaks were in the house.

After exiting the over-charged red light district, DJ Kemit dropped one of the many ‘WTH’ music surprises of the night. That of a smooth four-count beat resonated from the three giant speakers positioned throughout the room to the rescue of Stevie Nicks on vocals. It was “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac.

“I can’t believe he’s playing this,” mentioned some guy with dreads walking in the room right before he joined the others singing the chorus, “Thunder Happens Only When It’s Raining.” Once again, DJ Kemit bought out the smile in everyone. But wait a minute. Was that Moloko’s, “Sing It Back” accapella riding over a gritty house beat?

Not long after, Kai Alce former resident of MJQ Deep Saturday nights, took over the musical steering wheel that led the people to Freedom Village by way of Old School House Highway to Disco Drive. The appearance of Freedom Village was left open to individual interpretation. The destination was more spiritual than physical; a sort of state of mind that could be intangibly reached rather than tangibly touched. Whatever its shape or form, the people enjoyed its every offering of love outpoured through music and expressed through dance. Upon their arrival, the people danced like never before. They danced harder, their feet moved at lightning speeds and sweat poured from faces faster than torrential rains. Someone please, help the guy off the ceiling; things were getting crazy.

Abstract Truth’s and Monique Bingham’s, “We Had A Thang” (Matty’s Deep Dub) refreshed the over-heated with cool rhythms, a sultry horn solo and jazzy vocal scats that kept the crowd wanting more. Mr. Kai Alce granted such requests with his recently NDATL release, “I Got Life” by Kemetic Just with Terrance Downs on the mic. The pied piper didn’t stop there but took the congregation to church with his upcoming DJ Rowland Clark remix of the “I sing because I’m free” gospel anthem, “Sparrow.”

The wooden dance floor was besieged with several dance circles as people watched bodies dropping on the ground to do the splits. There was the usual guy hand standing with one hand, completely upside down. Talk about balance. Some even caught the Holy Ghost as English caps fanned the hot air while others jumped up on benches to dance in the spirit. The journey had become a free expression for all to celebrate freedom through any vehicle of choice.

Once Freedom Village was reached the crowd began to thin out, which meant more dance space. Soon, Cullen Cole returned to helm the vessel and dropped a furor of beats that kept the dancers on fire. After a captivating night of a peaceful journey to celebrate freedom, the house lights slowly conquered the former dark space, dimly lit by red lights. The celebration had reached its end and now it was time to say ‘goodbye.’ Never would the pilgrims forget this pilgrimage to the holiest of holies. For within the music, peace, love and joy were found. Through dance, freedom was obtained and all had a right to participate. Dr. King’s speech truly illustrated that people of all walks of life, ethnicities, sexual orientations and creeds could peacefully gather and celebrate as one. “Thank God All Mighty. We’re Free At Last.”

 


All images captured by John Crooms January 2010, except MLK image.

GREENHOUSE 02.10.10

October 3, 2010

Photography by Carlos Bell

GREENHOUSE 06.06.10

June 7, 2010

Photography by Luis V for DEG