Posts Tagged ‘Tambor’

DJEFF AFROZILA 22.07.12 PART 1

July 22, 2012

DJEFF AFROZILA

Already, DJ BE had electrocuted the atmosphere with pulsating charged particles of electrons and protons dancing to diversified sounds that culminated in a show-stopping spectacle of frantic dance moves combusting from bouts of kinetic energy. There was nothing like the magic of a pre-warm-up, putting the folks in the mood, before the party’s derivative. By the stroke of midnight, BE’s successor wasted no time analyzing the musical elements of two Pioneer CDJs, a music/mixing software program, and the signature Bozak for what was to be an epic Tambor.

“Oh my!”
“I can’t wait!”
“Tonight’s going to be special!”
Several festive spirits whispered in high anticipation in the venue’s space number two, a smaller but more suitable arrangement. Although the crowd’s attendance faired less than record-breaking numbers, those that came out showed up and showed out. The feverish buzz trickled into the air-conditioned atmosphere and culminated at an audio zenith that tickled attentive ears. Why all the excitement? Well, grab your passport and Afro attire because we’re going on a quick journey for an educational visit to a country called Angola.

Angola sits on the West coast of Southern Africa next to the Atlantic Ocean to the West and Zambia to the East. With its Angola Mountain Range of Lela, a coastal capital city, Cracks of Tundarla, breathtaking waterfalls, sweeping hills and rugged cliffs the county’s scenery is one majestic behemoth. The fertile land which provides diamonds and oil fuels its strengthening economy. The Portuguese speaking country, freed from Portugal’s rule thirty-seven years ago, with a population of 19 million embraces its African heritage which can be heard in its music and seen in its dance, which brings us back to Tambor fresh off an airplane with additional baggage and an extra body.

The extra person aboard the aircraft was none-other-than Tiago Barros. Who? Djeff Afrozila. Tambor’s special guest DJ. Born in Portugal to a father from Cape Verde and a mother from Angola, Djeff grew up listening to an eclectic range of musical artists from Michael Jackson, Michael Bolton, Kassav to Tabanka Jazz. At the age of fifteen, the future DJ, would fall in love with house music and be influenced by the likes of Erick Morillo, Daft Punk and Robin S. In the year 2010 he would produce his first edit, “Canjika” and later go on to produce tracks and remixes for global renowned deep house music artists and labels. Currently, Djeff resides in Angola’s capital and largest city, Luanda. Based out of the urban hub is Kazukuta Records. Djeff, one of six DJs signed to the label with its growing roster, is en-route to becoming a burgeoning star in the world of Afro-deep house. The graphic arts and design graduate-which explains his fascination for haute couture, fashion forward promotional photographs, and avant-garde music videos-has handsome facial features that could have been ripped straight from the pages of a gentlemen’s quarterly fashion magazine or at least from a campy tourist brochure. The “I don’t look older than nineteen years of age” star sported the Kazukuta logo on a form-fitted white tee with grey graphics atop form-fitted blue denim. However, don’t be deceived by the lad’s 1.727 meters height, with a futbol player’s frame, and a clean-cut appearance because he would soon reveal his alter ego.

To Be Continued….

All photography by AJ Dance

DANNY KRIVIT 16.06.12

June 17, 2012

DANNY KRIVIT

A “WHOMP, WHOMP, BOOM!!!” shattered the peaceful summer night air and exploded like bombs over Baghdad onto the neighborhood streets in vicinity of the venue. At the establishment’s framed wooden front door the sub-terrain voice of bass greeted civilians. Once indoors the subwoofers sounded off clear and crisp, “THUMPS” marching off to war. Seismic waves of decibels sliced through the heart. The soundscape had leveled the battlefield with an apocalyptic “BOOM!”

“YEAH, it’s the NEW mixer sponsored by Bozak!” yelled Tambor’s third in rank with enough joviality to fuel an Army Abrams M1A1 battle tank. “I can’t wait for Danny to hear it!”

Except for being in the company of the frequent bass explosions that rocked the venue, the capacious space felt peculiarly lonely. Behind the music artillery, Commander Stanzeff worked a numbered of Tambor’s foot soldiers stationed at various points throughout the base. The Tambor-in-chief, in Re-Edit mode, strategically crafted current cuts of Quentin Harris’/Margaret Grace’s, “My Joy,” 3 Amigo’s/Susu Bobien’s, “You Bring Me Joy”( Guy Robin Mix) and Peven Everett’s, “Stuck” (Phil Asher’s Soul Heaven Version). Tambor’s troops responded with valiant praise. On the contrary, certain imponderability perplexed of certain lacks. Was it the institutional decor? The sleeping disco ball? The missing strobe light theatrics? Or simply, the MIA house heads?

My Love Song

There is something about the color of love when Danny Krivit shows up to play at Tambor. Red seemed to be the coincidental unofficial uniform color of choice. Red tees, red polos, red pants and red minis showed up to party. Two years prior, Danny threw down at Tambor’s Passion Party where the room was besieged with every hue of lust. Although the venue and many faces have since changed, the vibe had not. Many came expecting to experience a night of passion. And some more than others got that.

Provocative females pranced around practically naked provoking passionate eyes to protrude from both sexes. Hands fondled breasts. Two favorite dancers, one male the other female, disappeared before the party’s guest of honour manned the decks. An older gentleman gripped and groped his female companion with moves that should be left at “Swinging Richards.” Yes, something freaky was in the air. After all, they don’t call this the “Summer Party” for nothing. It is the time when the zeitgeber beckons, “It’s Mating Season.”

The Big Apple’s Danny Krivit appeared onstage in his uniformed 718 Sessions black tee. Sergeant Body & Soul stood armed and dangerous gripped with firearms, of the music kind, ready to slay Tambor. With a lovable teddy bear visage easy enough to fool-his demeanor proved all militant. Without warning, the sock it to em’ and knock em’ out DJ played drill sergeant. With a shuffle of his neck from side to side; the bass dropped and the highs were pitched to roughhouse the audience. The in-demand music hero wasted no time discharging jazz vocalist Gregory Porter’s, “1960 What?(Opopolo Bass & Rerub)” onto the brigade. Surprise! The soft-opener spelled T-R-O-U-B-L-E for a few Paradise Garage vets that expected a more disco anthem. Next, DJN Project’s featuring Theo Larson and Quadir, “Afro-Hard” pumped beats like machetes fired off in an African jungle. The third song proved victorious for the Garage heads of old hence, Ten City’s, “Fantasy.” Danny cut the music. The people sung, “I’m Sitting On Top of the World/Whenever You’re Around Me” the famous lyrics from Skyy’s (AKA New York Skyy) “Here’s To You”. The 20th century jam played with production help from the 21st century remix masters N-Joy and John Morales. Danny in playful mode continued to have fun with the audience and dropped the music and vocals for additional sing-a-long support from Tambor’s troops. Global beats banged courtesy of Distant People’s featuring Nickson, “My Love Song” (Libation Mix by Ian Friday) one of the smoothest gems discovered that night. There’s just something about the color of love when Danny plays love songs at Tambor. Given song legend Kenny Bobien in the house, standing next to the DJ stage texting, Danny played a moving tribute to the king of gospel house with “The Light.” Later, Kenny’s wife Stephanie Cooke’s tribute arrived, (apropos in the house) Love Will” (Roots Vocal Mix) the Latin-flavored percussion driven jam that took dancers on a makeshift Navy cruise around the Caribbean Islands. Occasionally, vocal house was abandoned for instrumental driven tracks which displayed variety for a panoply of palettes to enjoy. During one disco house excursion the crowd seemed lost in translation; preoccupied with distractions. Therefore, moving towards the back of the facility to dance the atmosphere reeked of cooked crack. The music faded as the beginnings to a Roland drum loop sounded. Whitney Houston’s voice came into full view from a hazy stir. As Danny dropped the music the crowd sung, “Love Will Save The Day” which sounded more like shouts from the top of their lungs. The 12” inch version made for a great dance among friends on a white powdered dust covered floor. The dance down memory lane continued with Geraldine Hunt’s, “Can’t Fake The Feeling” from 1980. The jam had people wanting to pull out their roller-skates. Back to the present, Danny decided to bless the audience with a reprise of Distant People’s featuring Nickson, “My Love Song” (Libation Mix by Ian Friday). Once again, there is something about the color of love when Danny plays love songs.

There was no major theatrical disco close-out. No final thirty-minute music set devoted to Salsoul. Heck, the late Donna Summer didn’t appear in the mix. Proper house tracks seasoned here and there with vocals, afro-house punched at higher BPM’s and a dash of disco made an oscillating body of work. Danny wasted little effort playing afterthoughts of yesteryear but rather focused much attention on house music’s current climate. The “King of the Re-Edit” seemed more engaged in Body & Soul’s inner-makings than the architectural framework of Paradise Garage. The roller skating jams were left behind at the rink and music requests went ignored, even to the tune of MFSB’s “Love Is The Message.” What a valor undertaking, “My Love Song” was the new “LITM”. That night, house music’s prestigious Medal of Honor went to…… Mr. Danny Krivit. After all, there is something to Danny Krivit when he plays love songs at Tambor.

All Photography by AJ Dance

DJ SABINE BLAZIN 19.05.12

May 20, 2012

DJ SABINE BLAZIN

She looked as cute as ever. Imagine an African porcelain doll graced with mocha skin soft to the touch, carrying around the vigor of her neck a pair of white tech-savvy earphones and draped in a panoply Mache dress of royal purples that played cat and mouse with black contrasts. Having the mien of a mother with baby faced features of two rounded chubby cheeks, her two doe-eyes hid behind black wire frames told stories. Certain stories of knowledge. Certain stories of experience. Certain stories marked by heavy bouts of lows and soaring highs. She had the sinews of her mother, her grandmother and her great-grandmother all passed down in ancestral heritage. It would be this message that would play through her song and dance. For the humble spirit stood mensch, on the outer bank of the DJ stage, eyed the action and patiently waited to take her turn to minister on the musical equipment.

Tambor broke another record! This time for having the smallest crowd ever before 2pm. More empty pockets of spaces danced around than actual bodies. The minute crowd lacked the energy normally associated with Tambor’s fervor. However, what energy the crowd lacked, the made up for with enthusiasm. As evidenced by the hand-full of cheering females present at the altar of the DJ stage. It was a night of HER-oism as only two females have graced the decks of a Tambor party. Even this latest booking had occurred at the last minute due to another DJ bowing out for family matters. Of course, several female vocalists have performed live but actual female DJs cutting up the decks numbered in the non-existence territory at Tambor. So the crowd was in for a treat.

NYC’s DJ Sabine started off her lively set tinged with afro-beats and afro house; thumping right from the heart of the motherland; Africa. Somewhere along the journey-as a-matter-of-fact right after the first song-the ride hit turbulence and crashed into the diamond mines of Sierra Leone. The disaster had nothing to do with song selections but rather the song’s transitions. The soundscape conjured an African mosh pit with one song slamming into the next. The rough transitions proved all too nauseating; too bumpy, too choppy with little to no fluidity. This proved polemic. Was this mixing at all? Normally train wrecks occur when two trains (songs) traveling on the same railroad tracks at two different speeds (BPM Beats Per Minute) collide into one another. However, this seemed to be more of two trains (songs) traveling at different speeds on two separate railroad tracks speeding by one another. Had Sabine received the memo? This was Tambor. The world famous drum beat heard around the globe that has set precedents and raised standards in the deep house music scene. Certainly, there are DJs that master the art of seemingly blending songs down to a precise science and then there are those DJs whose mixing skills are hit and miss and then there are the DJs that don’t give a damn in regards to their mixing skills. Somewhere along this spectrum fell the night’s jagged edge.

Like a diamond in the rough, what started as one of the toughest night’s to swallow, transformed into a cut, polished and flawless gem. As the party’s hours grew so did the party’s attendance. The people smiled. The people reviled in joviality. The people experienced a one of the kind treat set aside for the esoteric. Dance circles cropped mid-floor provided the landscape for bodies to writhe in contortionist poses. Dance-offs and fancy footers squared off during a brief Donna Summer tribute. All against the backdrop as Tambor’s daddy DJ Stan Zeff and NYC’s DJ Sabine Blazin exchanged a most amiable hug.

Photography by AJ Dance

TERRY HUNTER 21.04.12

April 22, 2012

TERRY HUNTER

Even Andy Warhol showed up to party.

The room was dark. But far from silent. Afro-house music played background soundtrack as hazy oxidations danced in a faint orange spotlight. The special guest DJ with tattooed sleeves stood before a folding table. In his hands were five exclusive playing cards. Would he fold? Or would he continue to play to win?

“He doesn’t look comfortable,” suspected Tambor’s graphic designer with drink in hand.

DJing can be a bit like playing poker. You don’t know what type of hand you hold. Or more precisely you don’t know what type of music you hold. It takes a whole lot of betting that you’ve got a winning hand and you’re going to play the proper music that will win the audience over. Precious time, calculation and thought groom a party’s playlist. A guest DJ must know if or when to follow the prescribe pattern set by the predecessor DJ, when to stand ground with his/her musical manifesto and mixing style or when to be agile and limber. Like a professional poker player a professional DJ knows how to strategize a winning formula. A whim of spontaneous flexibility has to be assumed.

For two straight hours that spontaneous flexibility was muscled by the night’s guest headliner via Chi-town. DJ Terry Hunter played five rounds of five cards-Chicago style. From South Side disco, Chicago house, afro-house, deep house to classic soul. After a switch killed the music, a vibrant soprano resurrected from the dead sung, “You Better Believe It.” Terry silenced his opponents by dropping the queen of hearts; the late great Whitney Houston’s, “Love Will Save The Day.” The heart pounding four-count floor- thumper made feet stomp, hips gyrate and soul claps. The tribe went belligerent dancing in chaotic bursting bubbles greeted with agape smiles. After another brief moment of silence the Chicagoan withdrew from the deck a 10 of spades and threw it into the mix. The T’s Box latest release, Inspiration To Me(2012 Classic Club Mix) with love vocals by Eric King kept feet leaping in the air and ears open for what was to come. Matthew 18:20 came next riding over snappy percussions driven by afro-tinged subterranean. BAM!!! Terry dropped a jack of diamonds. After all where would Chicago be without Jack? Certainly it would be void of Chicago’s legendary Farley Jackmaster Funk’s, I’m A House Headwith Billy Monroe bringing the vocal funk. The producer/remixer kept his catalog up front and personal with Chicago’s soul sister Terisa Griffin’s, Yes(Bang’s Sunday Club Mix). With the launch of the deep sexy sounds the critically acclaimed, “legendary” dropped a black Queen of Hearts to the delight of sexual auras. YES!!! The tribe of Tambor was in sensual hands. To follow suit the in demand producer adroitly dropped two kings of house. The first, Ruffneck’s, “Everybody Be Somebodyscreamed for attention and that it received as the crowd chanted in return even after the song’s end. The classic king of spades played over a choppy walloping two-count that brought out hip-hoppers popping and locking on the baby powdered dusted floor. After another four-count floor-thumper driving dancing bodies mad with joy, the second king arrived. Staccato jabs of synths syringed the air. Screams penetrated the heavens, bodies leapt into the atmosphere as arms crushed through sound waves. The king of clubs; Lil Louis’, Club Lonelywith house mainstay Joi Caldwell showing vocal support caused the uprising. The fierce dub sped through the speakers to answer the call, “Miss Thang/There Is No Guestlist/Tonight,” with a finger snap. Somewhere in the loft space floated the flesh of DJ Roland Clark as his recorded spoken words wondered on Agev Munsens, The Thing About Deep (Can Drum).” Unbeknownst to the crowd wrapped up in divine interpretation a red king of hearts would close out the night. Chicago’s Lil Louis’,Fablewith its uplifting strings and keyboard swirls served a questionable end.

Hands down, DJ Terry Hunter won the game with a full house; a “Three Full of Pair.” There sat on the folding table a red king of hearts, a black king of clubs, a black king of spades, a red queen of hearts and a black queen of clubs. This a champion knows best; how to work the crowd and win over the crowd with various music statements. It was apparent from the start that the man with a plan was out to rule with an iron hand. At one point the second generation Chicago DJ went deep, so deep dancing bodies writhed in diabolical bondage. The seasoned sensation worked the crowd dropping the bass and scorching the highs with such intensity the entire room fell prey to Hunter’s hunt. From where the track with the blaring sirens, vocoder demonic filter and the dramatic build-ups and devastating drops came from was anyone’s guess? Then there was the disco. The disco that caused even the most obdurate DJ’s to dance. Then there was disco house and on and on and on…..need anymore be said on the topic? By the party’s final hour when DJ Stan Zeff assumed musical lead to close out the night the loft space resembled a government declared, “Disaster Zone.”

Photography by AJ Dance

 

BODDHI SATVA 17.03.12

March 18, 2012

BODDHI SATVA

Invocation means to call upon the spirit of a deity. And on this night the ancestors answered the call. The congregation of those gathered heard angelic voices of sharp high notes float amongst their midst. The fancy footwork of the living danced with the graceful oscillates of motley spirits in perfect harmony that had transitioned from this world to the next many moons ago. The ancestors lived on; they lived on through song and they lived on through dance of the ancestral soul.

DJ BE

From an empty air conditioned room to a swelling mass of sweaty and sexy foot soldiers spreading the joy of dance, Tambor’s second in command, DJ BE played opening act for two full hours. The Diversified Sounds creator sculpted a soundscape that kept the vibe sexy with melodic vocals and spoken word playing over afro-house, deep house and proper house. Tambor’s jovial congregation ate the musical offerings up like fried chicken dinners sold after Sunday morning church service. DJ BE, sporting a green beaded Saint Paddy’s Day necklace was on fire, not a rarity for one of the city’s most prolific house music ambassadors.

Much talent existed in the atmosphere. Song writers and music producers mingled with singers. Musicians and DJs posed for pictures. Dancers showered the abilities of the melody makers with audible praise. Business cards and mobile numbers made the rounds. This was a kind of musician network; a net space reserved for major house music conferences like those held in Miami and Amsterdam. For the up and coming individuals in the house music world, Tambor was the place to be.

The night’s special guests read like a who’s who of house music. Kenny Bobien, Stephanie Cooke, Marlene Perez, Zepherin Saint, DJ Roland Clark, DJ Swift Ruben Vidal and Miranda Nicole were all in the house. This was without the mention of the night’s special headlining guest, Mr. Boddhi Satva.

Boddhi Satva

Mr. Boddhi Satva AKA “Ancestral Soul” bared his humble soul and brought his signature sound to the Tribe of Tambor for his InvocationAmerican tour EP release. Born and raised in the Central Africa Republic (C.A.R.) the producer birthed a spiritual awakening on those that had gathered within the four walls of the sanctuary. With mouths open wide and smiles firmly planted between chocolate cheeks the people assembled at the front alter of the DJ stage. A mass of digital appeal shot straight into the air. Digital smartphones, digital point and shoot and DSLR cameras were seen all about recording the onstage spectacle. The room froze in a moment of time. The faint sounds of “Oohs and Ahhs” could be heard if one listened closely to the heart. All stood in eager anticipation for the musical blessings that Boddhi Satva would bestow upon them.

According to the in demand music producer one of ancestral soul’s several meanings includes; when deep house weds Congloese rumba and West African voices become mistresses while urban R&B play occasional girlfriends. The polygamy of sounds is just what Boddhi delivered to Tambor. So let’s dig a little deeper into the house that built Ancestral Soul.

The Offering Recordings founder arose to the occasion with an opening African chant before transitioning into some hardcore deepness. To watch Boddhi DJ provides a sort of amusement, much like watching a charismatic caricature muscle the stage. He whips around in circles, swivels his neck from left to right, and rotates his fist in soft round circles and slow winds to the groove. Honestly, this guy can dance. Boddhi feels the groove and conjures up the excitement with a seductive sultry dance.

Sporting some serious tribal neckwear the minister of music unleashed philharmonic gifts upon the crowd. From the depths of the soul arose singer Lynn Lockamy’s acapella from Timmy Regisford’s,At The Clubsteadily bubbling under an ancestral treatment of sanctified beats. The vocals played background to harmonious synthesizers that caused one house music lover to conclude this was an exclusive goodie. Finally, in mid-song Lynn’s vocals were set free, amplified and allowed to shine as she wailed, “We were cheek to cheek/Sex to sex.” Suddenly, warm synths fell from the heavens and wrapped its embrace around the audible vocals in a luxurious display of bride courtship that concluded in a ceremony of holy matrimony. What a mellifluous marriage between the elements of deep vocal house and ancestral soul. Spoken Word played mistress as Athenai’s vocals off Invocation’s first single; Here I Amcrept out from a dark corner to get some action. After all it was a Saturday night right? All the while urban R&B outfitters, Fantasia Borino and Dru Hill played girlfriends to the ancestral sound. Fantasia’s ballad,Free Yourselfand the late 1990’s Dru Hill hit,Beautyentered the mix with ancestral freshness. Unfortunately, both songs fell flat as only a few house heads positioned near the speakers were able to decode the audible delivery. As with most edits played before a live audience the volumes of many acapellas ride sotto voce. Kudos for dropping the two cuts but had there been additional vocal clarity the songs would have received greater audience accolades.

Fortunately, executed correctly was an ancestral take on Culoe De Song’s, “I Really Do” with Kenny Bobien’s falsetto floating flawlessly across the DJ platform as the man himself walked onstage and gave Boddhi a huge embrace. Yes folks, this was a family affair. Soon to follow, the powerhouse anthem of the night arrived from Tambor’s next month’s guest, Chicago’s own DJ Terry Hunter with,Wonderful.” Diva Terisa Griffin wailed with fiery intense that made the room all hot, sweaty and sticky. Shouts of joy resounded; arms flew in the air to praise as heads nodded with approval. The gospel-esque melody arrived right on time causing the people to catch the spirit. The dance came out in everyone-not only from DJ Stan Zeff but too his younger brother of Tribe Records UK Zepherin Saint.

From there the spirituality of Mr. Satva continued its exploration into ancestral rhythms of afro-beat, broken beat and even classic house as a drummer/percussionist took right stage and added the extra excitement of live drumming.

DJ Stan Zeff

In a surprise and rare move DJ Stan Zeff took to the stage and assumed musical closer. Tambor’s founder rocked the house with the latest interpretation from Pablo Martinez of Jill Scott’s,Hear My Callto Black Coffee’s classic global crossover,Turn Me On(Raw Artistic Soul) with the “Princess of House” Bucie belting vocal lead. As the crowd dwindled to the usual suspects of hand standers, of couples two-stepping and some of Atlanta’s finest dancers waiting for pictures, the music’s intensity only increased to a climatic end.

Tambor had done it again. The night was one of the most celebrated ever. The air was solidified with a thick presence of love. Each soul that entered the premises felt the grasp of love take hold of the heart. Even with the abundance of special guests, not one displayed airs or the need to sit in VIP. All remained grounded and humbled and yet assumed a cloak of close kinship. This goes to show at a Tambor party love reigns supreme. You can throw a party. As a matter- of-fact you can throw the best party. But without love what do you have? Just another plain old party.

Photography by AJ Dance

IAN FRIDAY 18.02.12

February 19, 2012

IAN FRIDAY

A steady down pour could be heard beating against the car’s windshield on the way to Tambor. The pitter patter claps of drip drop provided the trip’s soundtrack as black wiper blades lazily moaned, “Swish Swash” in a predictable game of back and forth. The night was off to a wet start as the day’s earlier sunny sky succumbed to evening clouds and precipitation. Sadly enough the thermostat reading fell too, giving way to cooler crisp temperatures. Normally such active conditions don’t befall a Tambor party but this night would yield so. Here’s to hoping the Tambor Tribe will mandate full attention and force given the outdoor obstacles. Translation: Oh I can’t go out in the rain cause I can’t get my hair wet. Sigh.

Already the warmth of the dance floor created a stunning visual improv by those assembled in motion, welcoming those entering the room. Someone installed a new programmable lighting feature. Right center, in the middle of the dance floor, dancers writhed in incandescent techno lasers of green and red mocked tattoos. The surrealism resembled a cyber rave straight from the late naught. The dance space was in the midst of a unique revival as the city’s dance crews were in full effect. From the likes of HDA to a b-boy/b-girl battle next door, faces of all colors exchanged names and phone numbers for future meet-ups. This party was for the spirit of the dancer and who can argue that dancers rule the night. Who better else to jumpstart a dance ritual other than Tambor’s daddy, DJ Stan Zeff by playing percussion driven afro-house under Wyoma’s vocals on At One’s,African Healing Dance“. South African DJs, Goldfish featuring vocals by Monique Hellenberg on,Call Me(Culoe De Song Mix) spit out a gravitational pull that engulfed the heart a flame in dance right before song bird Jill Scott’s stunning prayer of Hear My Call(David Harness Harlum Mix) brought tears to the eyes as additional heart felt emotions cried,Oh I (Miss You) (Atjazz Love Soul Mix) by the Muthafunkaz featuring Sheila Ford and Marc Evans singing a comforting tribute of one day seeing again the many recent souls that have transitioned from this life to the next. On that note the floor shook as Stan Zeff worked the mixer, looped the vocals, dropped the backing instruments and delivered a music drop that made the dancers rejoice with unbridled praise. The party was off to a serious celebration as the night’s headliner had yet to arrive at the event.

It’s no wonder the Tea Party Music moniker had changed to Global Soul Music. Could one really conjure the imagination of the soulful house community standing up to yell, “The Tea Party is coming to town?” Boy, you’d better run out of town faster than the speed of light. Global Soul Music’s mission is to showcase the world’s talented community of singers, songwriters, producers and DJs by moving out from the shadows of Brooklyn, NY and into the limelight of the world. Label founder Ian Friday was sure to test the theory at Tambor. It was his first embarking back to the never-cease-to-amaze event since his brand’s metamorphosis.

Soon enough from behind the black corner curtain walked out the Global Soul Music ambassador with Tambor’s assistants nearby carrying some serious hardware. After a brief sound check and set up by the sound engineer-that caused an ear squealing pitch that scared the room shitless- the real business was set to begin.

Ian Friday stepped up to the colorful control decks of shiny knobs and glossy crossfaders. The musical dashboard sprung to life in the twinkling of an eye. Its control panel announced, “ALL SYSTEMS A GO!” For what seemed as a few trivial seconds transformed into minutes of sound explosions. Speaker boosters exploded as subwoofers revved up the room’s RPMs (Revolutions per Minute) into combustible energy. By far this was the best musical opening statement from a DJ since who knows when……

Wait a minute. Was that Osunlade’s, Idiosyncrasy?” With all the hype in the room surrounding the song, it was difficult to hear over the screams but yes, the deep-tech track worked its charm over a bed of sweaty dancers. Minutes later, Marlon D’s tribal banger,Jesus Creates Soundbounced into action as dancers dropped to the ground on knees and sprung forth on two feet and spun around in circles all in four count time. Saxophones screamed over eight-count thumps as a medley featuring Geroge Kranz’s,Trommeltanzbought additional heat. What was this Ian Friday up to? The New Yorker didn’t stop there but kept the dancers on their heels with vocals by Malehlokwa on Fallingproduced by South African DJ Kent and a fitting tribute to the late Whitney Houston with the Jellybean Benitez produced, Love Will Save The Daywith both vocalists riding over deep beats to create exclusive edits. The stunning Miranda Nicole, standing on stage, shined with not one but two hits. The Ian Friday Libation Remix of,Kissing Youand the soon to be released hit, “Looking For Love.” After a brief rest and fresh air the latter pulled the people back onto the dance floor with its sexy grip. Couples two-stepped, men’s and women’s hips swayed from left to right in provocative gestures as Miranda’s soft vocals chimed, “Looking For Love.”

After Grammy nominated Jazz vocalist Gregory Porter’s, “1960 What?” (Opolopo Kick and Bass Rerub) played the music lost a bit of its bite. Like a slow burn the party seemed to fall to stalled feet. Maybe, the cause was the sleepy afro-beat that provided not enough kick or the house music ballad that brought yawns and closed eyelids. Whatever the case, the dancers took note. Some took seats at tables or on the stage where a sizable group of six gathered to take rest. What a sore sight to see for a party that started off with an electric shock to the heart. Doctor, doctor, a defibrillator was needed and one was needed fast. A professional DJ knows how to rescue such dilemma and Ian answered the call. Former Blaze member Kevin Hedge with lead vocals by Rick Galactik provided the inspirational,Follow Your Heartthat reignited sleeping feet and brought a wave of rubber soles back to dance. Tribe Records Zepherin Saint with vocalist Nathan Adams on vocals with,Love Of My Lifekept up pace. Once again, Miranda Nicole’s encore presentation of “Looking For Love” filled the empty pockets on the dance floor with sexy gyrating bodies. The song capped the end of the house music session and marked the transition to two recent celebrities that transitioned from life’s journey.

Whitney Houston’s 1990 classic,I’m Your Baby Tonightproduced by wonder duo L.A. Reid and Kenneth “Babyface” Edmonds roared through the speakers as Ian dropped the music to allow the crowd to match the songstress’s God gifted vocal range. (Good luck) Despite all, the crowd went crazy and shouted with adoration as a few dancers took seats on the stage. Up next, Soul Train’s founder Don Cornelius sat in the hot seat with the MFSB Gamble and Huff 1973 produced cavalcade, TSOP” (The Sound of Philadelphia). Right before the dancer’s eyes a Soul Train line formed as the Tambor tribe leaders marched down and dancers showcased vintage moves from yesteryear. A few songs later, Ian’s signature tune The Jackson’s,This Place Hoteltore up the room as people danced to mirror the song’s lyrics of what would become one of the night’s stand-outs. Then bang the sound went out. Oops. Who was to blame? Every head turned to find the culprit. Was it Tambor’s visual engineer bent over, clueless at the lack of sound, packing up equipment after an exhaustive night of providing acid washed Tambor visuals of looped African dancers? Oh well. Who cared? As the music restarted the dancers left standing picked up where they had left off and continued dancing without missing one beat.

After the final note played, the Tambor family gathered for group photos with the Libation curator. They were all smiles as voices yelled, “Tambor” and digital cameras flashed. Outdoors the rain had traveled to a new destination and the air felt cool with a hint of loneliness as footsteps walked in the path of the moonlight to say goodnight.

Photography by Carlos Bell

TIMMY REGISFORD 21.01.12

January 22, 2012

Timmy Regisford

Outdoors in the starry-eyed January night the warm sounds of DJ Octopuz’s,House Music All Nite Long(Deep Octopuz Mix) escaped the wooden locked doors to the heart of the venue. But indoors the saga played a different tune. The night was off to a slow start; a super slow start; so slow that a budding sense of sympathy was felt for Tambor’s founding fathers DJ Stan Zeff and DJ BE and apprehension for Timmy Regisford. As a matter of fact a Felix the Cat with dollar signs for eyeballs strutting across a pink canvas on a corner brick wall saw more action than the dance floor. It was the artwork from vendor Hie Cue selling painted portraitures to painted earrings from the likes of MJ to the other MJ (Mary J. Blige) that is. Also, the room was hot; not only from DJ BE’s brilliant deep house opener but from the venue’s central heater playing second fiddle to Jamie Wood’s,Weak(Maurice Joshua Main Mix).

As the party’s momentum maneuvered from subzero to boiling hot; the crowd grew and with it several outlandish outtakes. A camera’s bright flash blinded the room, causing a sensitive Timmy to wave in disapproval. Several hand held smartphones danced in the air with touch screen buttons stuck on record filming the shirtless wonder. The battle grounds were formed as dancers squared off in combative rounds. All of this occurred while the sound system’s volume escalated from ear pleasing too ear shrieking.

Timmy the provocateur most certainly spoke his own language through beats and song. New York deep house music has that distinctive minimal tribal flavor that dances on its own two feet without the need of aid. It’s this language that NYC’s club Shelter speaks and the purview which Timmy rained upon Tambor. For better or worse, many of the city’s house heads are NYC offspring that dictate Atlanta’s deep house center.

Perhaps the night’s greatest audio pleasure came from Englewood, New Jersey native-not a stones throw away from NYC-Atlanta, GA transplant Regina Belle’s, Baby Come To Mea sultry, sensuous, and soulful 1989 R’n’B ballad sounding so fresh and so clever served over a deep bed of house. Who would have thought it? As the vocals built to a rousing crescendo Timmy killed the music to allow the crowd to vocally climax. This whimsical remix was this year’s solution to last year’s Careless Whisper” by George Michael remixed by Abicah Soul that replicated the exact emotions. By far, this sugary concoction sealed the night’s fate. Another standout from earlier in the night beamed bright from soul hitter Adele with,Set Fire To The Rain(Timmy Regisford Mix) that needs an XL/Columbia label representative’s blessing to be officially remixed because that ish sounded too hot to pass up.

Keeping the party’s thermostat on max, Peven Everett’s,Burning Hotbrought more heat to the scene and set the room ablaze. “Burning Hot” simmered to a heated boil that was allowed to explode into Think Twicefrom The Detroit Experiment remixed by Henrik Schwarz with that three bar piano intro. Apropos, the latter seems to be the unspoken theme of every NYC deep house DJ. Later, Peven Everett’s second offering, Simmerremixed by the night’s all-star headliner cooled the room to comfortable temperatures as the song itself was allowed to stand on its own merits minus the extras.

During the night, certain songs mimicked the shade of gray straddling the fence of audible indistinguishably. Certain beats spoke louder than the vocals clawing for the lime light in a dim club. Trying to decipher the first verse to MJ’s 1979,Off The Wallor Jodeci’s,Cry For Youproved dizzying.

Mad props to Timmy’s inveterate style of mixing not one but two but three songs at once, but perhaps if certain songs were allowed to shine on their own without additional frills the music would have had a more pragmatic scope. Instead, punched drum loops, pulsating percussions and percolating piano riffs served raucous to music’s audible clarity. The far too many drop heavy drum kicks served as slight nuances. Although the beats; diverse in their own right, molded together sounded like incessant chatter. Was someone out to beat the life out of the music? Or perhaps the ability to hear out of people’s ears? This made for a mad night and by far not the kind meant for gentle words. After all, the highs and lows of stereophonic are what makes for legendary nights. Right?

All photography by Carlos Bell

ZEPHERIN SAINT 16.12.11

December 17, 2011

Zepherin Saint
Family Affair

 

In four months much can happen to a family. Some move away, be it to the east coast or west coast, others become mothers that welcome new life into the world while others move on in life to explore new paths. But then there’s the tried and true, the familiar faces that won’t ever leave but will always offer their fervent support. Someone once stated, “It’s the people that make Tambor.” That sentiment rings true when you haven’t seen your Tambor family in more than three months.

Thankfully, on the night of Tambor’s eagerly awaited return, the family was everywhere. Familiar faces greeted you as soon as you walked up the ramp to the venue’s main front door, into the building, around the main room, center at front stage, on the DJ stage and upstairs in the VIP area. There were the family members already in mid-dance on the dance floor. There were the family members posing with smiles for snapshots in the middle of the dance floor. There were the out of town (country) family members that traveled as far away as Tennessee and Toronto. There were the drunken cousins and of course the cannabis stimulated relatives. There were the female models working the room. (You go girls) There were the family members wearing wigs that had not been seen at Tambor in ages. There were the Dominicans partying upstairs VIP style. There were the family members celebrating birthdays, flossing money pinned on clothes while others anxiously accepted cards and various gifts. There were the fellow house dancers dancing in crop circles weaving underneath and around each others bodies. There was the Atlanta House Dancer family member asleep with head down on table and all. (Boooooo) A family member stood at the coat storage by the DJ stage and collected coats for a three dollar fee. There was a buzz and swirl of activity as the wait staff swooshed about taking orders and keeping cocktail glasses refreshed. The bar was packed tight with family waving dollars to get the bartender’s attention for another round of drinks. As a result, the bathroom saw a steady stream of activity and business from family, be it powdering faces or tightening belt buckles. There were the family members capturing special moments using expensive photographic and high-tech video cameras. There was the family of audio technicians and visual technicians that made sure the BOZARK sound system sounded crisp and the visuals beamed bright. There were the family of DJ’s from all circles and the vocalists of all genres that showed up to smile, shake hands and exchange hugs. Even the night’s special guest DJ from across the pond, Zepherin Saint of Tribe Records UK having played at Tambor twice before was family and not to mention the brother of resident Tambor founder DJ Stan Zeff. Yes, family was everywhere and there was nowhere to hide from familiar eyes.

For his third visit to Tambor, Zepherin Saint pitched the BPM up and dropped two heavy hitting house beats reminiscent of that London house vibe. The soul-drenched set consisted of uplifting lyrics, afro-house, straight in your face club bangers and live keys played by Brother Yoel Ben Yehuda. After the barrage of afro-deepness Zepherin Saint launched into a vocal cavalcade. Notables included the Tribe Records UK release, Bang The Drumswith Sister Pearl on vocals that received a warm applause. Jovann’s remix of Mary J. Blige’s,Just Finehad the crowd singing, “Oooh.” With brother Stan Zeff on stage working the sound a bouncy dub of Quentin Harris’,My Joy(Sean McCabe Melidious Dub) with Margaret Grace’s voice plastered the room. A 2010 remake of Roy Davis Junior’s classic with Peven Everett on vocals, Gabrielle(Qualifide Remix) by Emkyu now with DDB on vocals was on tap, followed by a Peven Everett original, Can’t Do Withoutthe song that had people saying, “Your Honor/I Ain’t Supposed To Be Here.” Next came Sarah Devine’s uplifting spectacular, Specialthat brought tears of joy. If that weren’t enough Chicago’s own songstress Dajae screamed,Brighter Days.” Black Coffee’s,We Are Onekept the crowd unified. Also, keeping on the South African house vibe, Culoe De Song’s remix of Goldfish’s,Call Mebecame the year’s combustible anthem. Previous Tambor guest DJ, Osunlade’s Summer Suite Remix of Jazztronik’s,Dentro Mi Almaplayed for two verses as if to announce last call and note that the party would soon end. Concluding on a high note, once again, Culoe De Song rode to the rescue with his instrumental tribal epic,The Bright Forestthat played with house lights on to the fullest as dancers spun in circles, walked on knees and screamed for joy. But the tune of the night came from an unreleased remix of Bucie’s,Get Over It.” The princess of house sung over a hissing hi-hat, snaking snares, a pitched up four-count and live keys from a Nord keyboard that made for dance floor bliss.

Two words summed up Tambor’s holiday party-Family Affair. On display from Zepherin Saint to each attendee was a woven tapestry of brotherly and sisterly love seeping from the depths of the human heart. No matter their ethnicity, color, gender, sex, stature or social class the family trekked from lands near and far; to assemble peacefully, setting aside differences and to celebrate FAMILY through the marriage of music and dance.

Happy Holidays

Photographs by Carlos Bell

A TALE OF TWO

August 19, 2011

A TALE OF TWO

Once upon a time, not too long ago in a land not too far away, there sat a depleted village. A hollow shell of its former self. Malodorous disappointment struck the humid air as ash to the grave breathed solemn despair. The night people’s favorite soundtrack, “Deep House Music” seemed to be hushed in a tumultuous cloud of vicious politics. The village’s voice, once a music Mecca with an unparalleled nightlife had suffered a deadly curse. Gone were the late night decadent parties and dirty dancing that at best brought and united artists, athletes, rappers, singers, entertainers, and collegiate and party people from around the globe to experience the abundant debauchery. All went well until one Monday night the big party got out of hand and a life was silenced in an exclusive part of the village. Sadly, it was that tragic event that sealed the grievous fate of the village’s nightlife. So the village’s head; the evil witch and her city council minions whom by the way were more than eager to appease the village’s wealthy upper-class trolls in the exclusive section of the village sealed shut the nightlife’s treasured trunk. Instead of possessing a trademark magic broomstick the witch wore colorful flowery magic corsages. With a wave of her flowery lapel, virtually over night the city’s vibrancy became a cultural wasteland of “nothing to do’s” and ne’er-do-wells. The curse was so drastic the only produce eked out from the once fruitful land was corporate mind-dumbing hip-hop and bubblegum rap music. The politicos’ resulting proclamation across the land promulgated last call for alcohol at 2:30 am with a 3 am closing time for all nightlife. If merchants did not adhere to the new law a substantial fine would be heaped upon their heads. This was absurd, as the village was known for its outrageousness. Previously, establishments had been allowed to freely pour alcohol till 4 am while parties continued into the wee hours of daybreak.
 

Over the course of five dark and bleak horrible years, vacant high-rises and abandoned cranes littered the village’s failed attempts at gentrification- another curse from the evil politicos. Along the village’s main thoroughfare, night clubs were replaced by high-rise luxury condos and bars replaced by high-end retail shops. The night people felt trapped like incarcerated cockroaches. The people felt restricted in harness belts wrapped tight around the waist, straight jackets to prevent arm movement and ankle chains chopping off the flow of blood to the feet. How could the night people move about or dance around under such oppression? At best the night people were innocent victims. What had they so done to deserve such injustice? It was as if to take away their sport was legally justified. There was no probable cause for such haphazard reasoning. So boredom gave way to restlessness and restlessness to stagnation. The only hope was to pack the suitcases on a moving truck en route to somewhere over the rainbow.
 

On one dreary day one of the village’s many music chiefs received a revelation to have the drum visit a party. What a novel concept. With an open invitation the drum accepted and journeyed to the party. The drum was introduced to the village locals one night at a vegetarian restaurant on the east side of town. At first, the drum’s concept thumped so faintly that its heart racing pulse fell mostly on deaf ears. Arguably, the voyage of the drum travelled undetected from the lands of obscurity to the shores of largely ignored as it silently played into record bins categorized as “just another party.” Nothing stood out. No one took note except for the few snapshots captured that night at the organic eatery. Somewhere along the road of sacred rhythms between mile markers nine and ten the drum began to beat steadily louder. Refusing to give up, the drum’s momentum pulsated with intense vigor as to capture every heart within its path. As if possessed by hypnotic melodies birthed by the Motherland herself, the night people stood up and took note. They began to sing the drum’s praises. Not only did they sing to the beat but the night people danced to the beat of the drum until their hearts were made merry. The people gracefully danced as if blooming plum blossoms weaved back and forth in spring’s fresh breeze. Perhaps, to the night people this was their renaissance; a revival of new hope. So the people continued to dance to the drum’s coveted descant as the drum spoke back to them with a wink of approval. This was what the people had longed for; acceptance. As the journey of the drum began to spread like a wild wind throughout the village, it too spread around the globe. The drum took the world by storm. Not only had night people from near and far trekked to the village to partake of this virgin movement but so did several music makers. There were the maestros from the land of South Africa, the tribesters from London, the music maker from Canada and the music lover from Italy. There were the NYC legends, the Chicago soul crooner, the Baltimore beat maker, the Los Angeles Yoruba, the Trinidadian Deepster and Atlanta’s Godfather of House Music. Deep house purveyors came from Canada to the Carolinas, California to Costa Rica for the first time to hear what the noise was all about.
 

As would a heroic protagonist, the drum swooped fervently down from the sky with cool rhythmic rains to save the village from the antagonistic fires bent on destroying the villages, “right to freely assemble, to freely dance, to freely drink and to freely party.” The drum sketched a peace-loving experience that clashed against the stark violent debauchery that prompted such evil legislation in the first place. Through time the evil witch’s reign came and went and gave way to a new political regime. Although the new regime did not overturn the horrendous law the night people did not give up the good fight, for they believed one day change would come. It already had. Night people from every tongue, tribe and nation were brought into the drum’s loving embrace. And all felt the love within its pulsating heartbeat of life. This was it! This was the message the people had danced to all along. They danced to the beat that would one day set them free by the journey of the drum.

Happy TWO Year Anniversary Tambor!

 

CULOE DE SONG 16.07.11

July 17, 2011
CULOE DE SONG
Last night was dope…Checked out the spot and fell in love with it. I even managed to check into Tambor and see my buds. Man as I was saying outside, you mutha trucka’s know how to party LOL!!! I think the walls were sweating when I walked in. They had to kick you guys out of the venue to boot. I love it!!!! -Divine Disco Diva

It’s a weekend of all things Africa when there’s a week long black arts festival, a West African DJ Diaspora and a South African playing at Tambor. The weather of overcast skies, light rains and mild temperatures were not enough to quench the sweet scent of incense that burned across the city. The city’s soundtrack, afro-house echoed its sweet sentiment from Marietta Road to Moreland Avenue. There were enough dreads, head wraps and dashikis in town to clothe an African village.

Well let’s dive into the deep waters of all things deep; that is pure unadulterated afro- beat/deep house music. The party jumpstarted with the kind of soul that made the mouth drool with saliva. DJ Stan Zeff took control of the knobs and bombarded the gathering tribes with a house vignette worthy of legends. The journey started off deep with congos played over soft finger snaps. The minimal tracks with afro chants pronounced the coming of the spirit. The deity Yemaya; the mother goddess, the essence of motherhood and a protector of children arrived through Lou Gorbea’s and Chris Perez’s featuring Nina’s lead vocals on “Babalu Aye Y Yemaya.” Yemaya greeted the dancers with a nurturing embrace as they danced into her arms. Keeping on the spiritual side of matters, SuSu Bobien’s, “You Bring Me Joy” (Guy Robin Remix) brought church to the club. The gospel diva’s vocal rifts sputtered about like fire and brimstone but in a great way. The dancers screamed at the top of their lungs, with fists pumped in the air and heads shaking from left to right as if the Holy Ghost had made a surprise guest appearance. Elements of Life’s, “Into My Life (You Brought The Sunshine)” featuring vocalists Lisa Fisher and Cindy Mizelle, continued to uplift the soul when all of a sudden, from out of nowhere, the room fell silent with a unexpected hush. The music had stopped. However, the people didn’t. “You Brought The Sunshine/Sunshine In My Life/And When You’re Near Me/It Feels So Right,” sang five beautiful ladies at the top of their lungs. Even without music these lovelies kept the song going-acapella style. And boy could they sing. For the next minute or so, DJ Stan scrambled to find the solution but there wasn’t one to exactly pinpoint. So with the punch of a button the dance anthem started over from the beginning. The people cheered and danced with more energy than previously seen. From this point forth the party would, “Touched The Sky” as Dennis Ferrer’s featuring Mia Tuttavilla’s dub pounced from the JBL’s to heartfelt cheers and fluttering feet. Other highlights included Hosanna Littlebird’s chill-laxed vibe, “Can Love Again.” The Temple Movement Club Mix threw out heart grabbing synths and dropped bass that steadily crescendo into clashing cymbals that banged like African drums and fell on the crowd like the soft showers that fell outside the club. In anticipation for the “invasion of South Africa” Stan dropped a number from South Africa’s Queen Of House, Bucie titled, “Not Fade.” With the clock ever so ticking closer to 1 am many wondered where was the party’s special guest headlining DJ.

At the drop of a hat, out of nowhere South Africa’s Culoe De Song appeared on stage, ready to slay the tribe with unfiltered afro-beat/deep house. Who is this Culoe De Song? Well, he just might be the largest import from the motherland since uhmmm, let’s say, Black Coffee. With a knack for producing titles ranging from, “100 Zulu Warriors,” “Webaba” to “Gwebindlala” and possessing a laundry list of remixes from the likes of Black Coffee to Claude Monet it’s easy to hear how Culoe De Song has paved Africa’s vibrant deep house soundscape. For as there might be a hundred reasons to dismiss this young man as a deep house leader Culoe proved a thousand reasons more why he is deep house music’s newest and one of its youngest ambassador. Let’s take a deeper look into the soul of Mr. Culoe De Song.

There hails a young man by the name of Culolethu Zulu from the land of South Africa that embarked on his first United States tour. Culolethu’s first stop on the map was at the electrifying Tambor party. Having remixed his name to the shortened Culoe with addition of De Song translation; Culoe of song, Culoe De Song brought his brand of unfiltered afro-house to a hungry mass of overseas music lovers. Here to promote his latest release, “Elevation” several cuts from the album were played for the adoring fans. The young man wearing wide frame black glasses, a fedora and inked with a treble clef on the right bicep appeared smart, confident and determined to conquer the land in the west.

One with an acute ear would recognize several of Culoe’s new cuts played in unadulterated fashion. There was the recent Webaba EP digital release of “Far Away” with its haunting pulse. Cape Town’s Electro-Jazz live DJs the Gold Fish’s, “Call Me” with Monique Hellenberg on lead vocals had all the ladies heads spinning around in circumferences as if possessed by strange forces. Guys do your lady a favor and make sure to call her back. By evidence in the room there seemed to not be a whole lot of that happening. Culoe De Song’s featuring Shota, “Yini Negawe” sung in native tongue was another crowd pleaser that enhanced the afro fever. Durban raised, Johannesburg resident, singer and songwriter Ternielle Nelson’s, “African Woman” the Culoe De Song remix with folk guitar and live melt in your ear violins is the new ladies anthem. You go Culoe for taking “girl power” to new heights. Also, the uplifting “Hold On” with vocals by famed Zano had the crowd counting their blessings and holding on and being strong despite adverse circumstances. Talk about the perfect prescription pill per doctor’s order.

Not to be ostentatious, the humble Culoe showcased hits from other genre defining house makers as well. Culoe’s buddy Black Coffee (former Tambor guest) with siren Thiwe’s haunting vocals on “Crazy” (Manoo & Francois A Deep Journey Mix) took the crowd in deep tribal waters. Sure enough the journey went deeper as Kenny Bobien’s voice elevated the crowd to new atmospheric heights. Osunlade singing, “Envision” worked over Afefe Iku’s, “Body Drummin” made the perfect deep-tech thumper. The whopping finale Culoe’s own, “The Bright Forest” blew the roof off the hinges. The crowd which had lost their minds ages ago lost it even more so when the stripped down power anthem played.

By 2:50 am the loft space was packed. No one wanted to leave. No one could sit still. Even with the house lights at full beam, everyone danced and kept dancing as though no cares of the world existed. Plastered bodies on the sweat drenched walls were scrapped off. The only thing amiss was emergency paramedics carrying people stretched out on gurneys.

The night marked the celebration where African rhythms and sacred drums transcend into a deeper consciousness. Tom drums kicked on three-count intervals. Finger snaps marched over maracas where two-count notes meet. Hand claps traded spots with hissing hi-hats as crashing cymbals clashed on every eight-bar intervals. Bongos from the congos thumped deep with tech effects in perfect harmony. This South African treat was rarely experienced on U.S. soil. Where did this music come from? Africa. And what was this music called? Afro-Beat? Afro-House? Deep Tech? Or Progressive House? Whatever the categorie(s), no nomenclature could contain such a diverse music portfolio. This intersection where soul syncs with progressive proved successful during the uber-experience of avant-garde afro art. Furthermore, Culoe De Song’s humbled spirit and Africa’s deep house rhythms were cemented in the psyche and stamped on the hearts of every man and woman in attendance. Yes, Africa was here to stay.

Video by Ari J. Johnson/courtesy of Stan Zeff