ROCK THE PARK DC WKNDR Pt I. 21.10.23

Rock The Park DC 

Rich Medina

Day 2 

Exit the McPherson Square Metro Station, at the corner of I and 14th Streets.  Watch out!  Carefully, look both ways before crossing the bustling intersection. Turn right onto the walkway.  That leads to the fountain, the epicenter of the greenspace named after a Founding Father.  Forward north is the performance stage.  A steel beam structure with canopy top protects the music equipment from torrential elements.  Rain?  Not today.  The sky appears as a glass ocean. Cloudless. Without celestial disturbance. However, the wind gusts at 30 miles per hour. Today, the temperature is chillier than twenty-four hours earlier at this exact location. The sun’s rays are challenged to warm the family of five picnicking on the grassy knoll.  Their jackets and hoods blow in the air as screaming children run to the play area.  

Already, a sizable dance circle has cropped to the sounds of Brazil eschewing from 10,000 watts of high-voltage amplifiers.  Two hip hoppers bounce and bop on an elevated dance platform rear park. As maracas shake underneath the quiver of lyrics sung in Portuguese.  The mighty O’ Jays’ “Message In Our Music” even brings the unhoused, a man who takes off his t-shirt revealing his body fur, parks his bike and nods his head at a lady. “Who’s he?” She shrugs as he two-steps the platform stairs. Foot soldiers and their fancy feet shuffle. Top rocks and back rocks entertain gathered spectators on a disco journey of talking guitars and good vibes. 

“What’s the name of that song?”  A stranger asks.  She is pleasant.  Cordial.  

You reply. “Louie Vega featuring Unlimited Touch’s “Music Is My Life.” 

“It’s about time!”  Your friend says as you join the family of dancers adjacent the dance circle just in time for “Oh, oh, oh.”  The familiar vocal spits fire.  Tony Touch’s “Apaga la Luz” (OG Main Mix) brings the dance ritual. Most everyone is bent over at the torso. Possessed by Latin rhythms. The melody that makes mouths howl at the moon.  One spirited dancer rolls on the ground tiles.  Rolling and rolling.  She turns about inside the dance circle.  There is a chorus of cheers. 

As the sun disappears, and the temperature plunges, Rich Medina scorches.  The Philly native wows with his sermon where the underground shuffles with pop, the latest whops with the classics, and hip hop freestyles with house. Distinguished and diversity dance together on Black Coffee’s featuring Nathan Toure “We Dance Again.” The anthem brings out the slow-motion ground to floor movements of spins, twists and windmills. Time to grab a light bite from one of the advertised food trucks parked on 13th Street when hearing Prince’s “I Wanna Be Your Lover.”  Disco divas and soul crooners continue to serenade the crowd like the free bottles of water delivered to dry-mouthed guests.  Before the most familiar voice in the universe sings “Dance With Me.” The extended edit of track number four from MJ’s “Off The Wall” closes out Medina’s two-hour spirited journey. 

Welcome to day two at Rock the Park D.C. The third annual house, funk, gogo, and dance music festival held in the heart of Washington.  Flashed across a theatre-sized monitor are the faces of DJ Keenan Orr and J. Rocc who played earlier sets, and DJ Miss Her, Trouble Funk, and Dam Funk who played the day before of the weekender.  But the can’t miss set came from Detroit’s own son twenty-four hours earlier.  Look around and listen, Detroit appears everywhere, spotted on graphic tees, the sound of Detroit thumps from Theo Parrish to the several “Detroit” shout-outs from the stage.  One would be remiss to think this is Hart Plaza on the Waterfront.

Day One 

20:00 hours 

“D.C. How ya’ll doing?” That familiar baritone asks the multi-hued faces numbering in the hundreds. “We gonna start the music in South Africa.” His signature drawl sounds inebriated. Smooth as shea butter. High as a kite. 

But wait.  The crowd wants to address the unspoken issue.  Viewing the time on their wrists and smart devices.  Only icons are allowed to start their set times fifteen minutes late and be forgiven by agog visages. “Ya’ll give it up for the sound crew. They had to get everything right for you.”

All eyes turn to a 10X10 pop up tent afore the fountain. Where two men standing, control the audio and visuals. If DowntownDC BID is involved, every detail will be thoroughly planned and properly executed. 

Look ahead.  Upward the welcoming platform stairs.  There, dressed in a lime green sweatshirt, wearing the hood up, and a black veil covering his face, he stands, his enigma illuminated by ruby and cobalt flashes falling from a canopy of steel beams.  Front and center the theater-size monitor flickering videoclips of 1980s aerobic workouts to Rick James’ “Super Freak” is borderline fatigue. Then the kick drum sounds.  The bass drops.  A reminder of knocks and thumps that bump in the dark.  Not only is this a musical voyage of locality but a GPS of sound.

Amapiano excites!  De Mthuda & Sir Trill featuring Da Musical Chef’s “Emlanjeni” (at the water) is engaging.  The groove starts slow and simmers into Gaba Cannal featuring Ard Matthews’ “Midnight Sun,” another deep tech South African scorcher.  The selector is proving a point.   

The music transports to a dark pulsating club in East London, courtesy Sticks & Stonez & Liv East’s “You’re My.”  Surprise! A brilliant sample of the Gamble & Huff produced O’ Jays’ “Darlin’ Darlin’ Baby (Sweet, Tender, Love)” eschews from hanging sound gear equipped for stadium arenas. The bass bellowing the John Barry statue, bounces off the Franklin School and onward the Washington Post. 

Franklin Park. The urban landscape on a chilly, balmy night. Manicure lawns. Meandering pathways. And facilities with the cleanest restrooms dot the newly-renovated greenspace. The perfect locale to view, limb’s flaying, hands outstretched in the air as if gasping to reach the stars.  Hearing the screams at the moon.  Heads tilted toward the aphotic sky. Your eyes closed. Experiencing the WTF moment, thus far. Joey Purp rapping “Elastic.”  The Midwest born Joseph Davis’ swag sets fire at the intersection where hip hop meets electronic beats.  Time travel from the now to then-from Chicago to the East Coast-as Main Source’s “Knocking At the Front Door” is signed by the ASL Interpreter who not only translates with his hands, but his entire body.  His feet, torso and body slides, twists and turns while multitasking onstage. He deserves the Best Dance Award. 

The deejay is clever.  He draws the dancers deeper, and deeper into the hypnotic groove.  Dancing feet are submerged.  Like being baptized in the waters of holy house music. So why not throw in some Sunday church?  Praise Him”(Retro Tech) from Chymamusique featuring Brian Temba & Da Vynalist brings the shouts and stomps courtesy Johannesburg, SA. 

Oftentimes, after sweating three hours to a proper house music set, dancing to disco and soul for the final 30 minutes of a journey is understandable. But early on the “Freaky Mother F…..” of house music weaves the classics into his captivating tapestry.  “Aye!” Voices yell to The Emotions’ “I Don’t Wanna Lose Your Love” (M+M Mix), before the UK’s Damian Lazarus & The Ancient Moons’ “Vermillion” (&ME Remix) returns to space disco on the classic, Jamiroquai’s “Little L.”

All the while your body inches closer to the pulse of the energy as Inaya Day belts “Feelin’ Feelin’.”  Your black hightop sock sneakers two-stepping the platform stairs before finding a residence on steps one and two as “Let It” (Basic Club) arrives.  “D.C. How ya’ll doing?”  Again, the music selector vibe checks the crowd before informing.  “This track is Kerri Chandler.” 

The Man With A Story

To choose Moodymann as a headliner is obvious. The Detroiter is the fourth deejay to play the day, preceded by DJ Miss Her-the only woman playing the two-day weekender-Trouble Funk, and Dam Funk.  All delivered great sets, but Moodymann has the people talking.  What will he play? What will he wear? Will he deliver? Who is he?

The legend of Moodymann goes back. Way back.  To the economic discourse in urban Detroit.  Post Motown.  Post automobile industry.  A city bankrupt.  Moodymann has seen it all. The Electrifying Mojo.  Detroit Techo. Charivari.  He is all ride or die Detroit.  No one reps the “D” like him. Period. 

Born Kenny Dixon Jr., the affable artist has always had one foot in music, and the other foot in the streets. A former rapper, record store buyer, independent music label owner, hit maker, sampled by the 6 god, Moodymann has just about done it all-even being illustrated as a game character-he has lived to tell his tales. The man with a story, has played sold-out festivals worldwide to hosting intimate hometown roller skating jams.  His most recent Spirit of Detroit Award recognizes his give back ethos of charity in the Motor City. 

Even his live music sets showcases his true love.  Take the standout played thus far. Agreeably, Amsterdam’s Paris Greene is the mastermind of the “Oh Yes” edit, but Moodymann made the Marvin Gaye and Tammy Terrell Motown duet a global anthem, having anointed the rework in his live playlists. The remix looped and extended to five minutes levels a seismic response at Rock the Park DC. 

When the four-on-the-floor gives way to  that jazzy house swing of piano keys and horns the energy intensifies. There you spot her. Dressed in all black. With her guy friend. She pivots her leg and thrusts into that familiar fancy foot shuffle. Like a magnet, your feet copy the exact same gesture. Suddenly you two are swing housing together. In perfect sync. In one accord. Speaking the exact language.  The vibe is so magnetic, automatically, people pull away to form a perfect circle. Without prior notice, you two shuffle around each other in the middle of the circumference. Jazz hands. Feet kicking out to the sides. All smiles. Transported back to 1920’s Harlem when the Charleston ruled.  You jump kick into the air and slowly land on your right knee as your left leg steps to the front and your foot falls left to right, side-to-side as she side shuffles around you in a perfect rotation. Listen, a dance circle should never be singular-all about you.  A dance circle should evoke to showcase others-a collective effort. Remembering, the dance is most strongest when all are allowed to shine. 

Experience tells the teacher that veteran music selectors challenge dancing feet.  How do you dance to the rhythm switch or the drumming on three counts? Dixon throws dancers for a loop needle-dropping Detroit Techno. The unrecognizable track is jarring. You don’t have to love the track. You don’t have to hate the track. However, you do respect the track.  This is Dixon Jr. at his best. He plays a hodgepodge of eclectic digs. He is the ultimate digger. Setting off tracks from Sun’s “Sun Is Here” to Quartz’s “Beyond the Clouds.”

As soulful house charges the sound sphere, courtesy Chicago’s Kelly G’s “Feels Good (Yeah!)” when Aretha Franklin croons, the track skips.  Oops. Moodymann never proclaimed he is the best deejay. What he lacks in skills, is where he excels.  His delivery of unapologetic Black music is an experience to behold. The shoutout to goddess Tina Marie’s “Loverboy,” the mass of bodies swaying to “Them Changes” from Thundercat, Josh Milan’s “Your Body,” the Louie Vega Dance Ritual dropping a dancer to his knees in supta virasana as Intrallazzi’s “Pik Nik” conjures beads of sweat even as the recorded temperature nosedives to 55 degrees. 

Even the Hostess with the Mostest, Mumu Fresh reappears onstage, reenergized, and joins the fun, chanting, “Moodymann makes you…” with her Baltimore swag.  

“D.C. How ya’ll feeling?” All are having the time of their lives. Singing, dancing, and smiling.  “DC you here.” His sexy drawl continues. “I met people from Philly, New York and Atlanta here.  What I’m saying is, DC, people came from all over to be here.”More whoohoos erupt as strumming guitars and a drum kicks at 120 beats per minute. “Every time I play this song, it sets me off.” And with that those left dancing are dropped off in NYC at the Paradise Garage, where The First Lady, the late Gwen McCrae’s “Keep the Fire Burning” closes out a music lover’s wet dream. The best Moodymann two-hour set ever! 

Part II

wrds: aj dance

 

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