AJ Dance Legacy

OSUNLADE

“I NEED ONE LINE. I’M NOT LETTING ANYONE INSIDE UNTIL I SEE ONE LINE FOLKS. Shouts the familiar doorman, who is serious business, his burly body blocking the door’s entrance.  “I NEED TO SEE BARCODES [sic] ON YOUR TICKET TO ENTER.” (more…)

Ameer Brooks & Themba 

22:00-23:30

Twenty dollars to park? Suck it up. The lot is spacious. Monitored. And clean.   As the outdoor temperature plunges, security pats down the body, checking for the prohibited. Flash your ID, and a scintillating smile. Enter the long corridor, the black-velvet rope queue, is empty of souls waiting to pay the door fee. Two blondes, mid-conversation, scanning your electronic ticket, point you upstairs where a man, dressed in all black, stands. His hand waves you left. Gaze at a minibar bedecked by urban lounge décor. To its left, behold 16,000 square feet of rich porous and fibrous elegance-wood floor tiles, wood columns holding up level two vicinal wood walls, the elongated wood bar, the wood concert stage elevating the wood DJ station all highlighted with green palm trees-that appears to stretch into forever. As your feet traverse down wooden stairs. Already you feel like a VIP.

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BLACK COFFEE

01:00-03:00

The horror unfolds.  They are everywhere. A sea of them is seen. Held in the air. All various sizes. The soft glow of screens. Their displays all read the same. Blackness and flashes of purple pixels. Is this a venue tradition? The gathered mass, standing erect, pulled out smartphones to film onstage the musical shaman playing.  

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“Touch the sky,” sings Dana Weaver. Those three words reflect the pulse of the dance floor. Orchestrated by the conductor himself, his hand lowers the tempo to 125 BPMs. Dancing feet shuffle in sync. His head nods with approval. His smirk reveals. In the mind of kaoz is control. Kaoz commands music to create mood. Kaoz transforms moments into dancing movements. Most importantly, Kaoz summons dancers to journey. Their destiny sealed among the celestial,
Atmosphere.
          Hemisphere.
                    Ionosphere. (more…)

And David danced…..

When you are dancing in the middle of the floor in the spotlight and you spin around to find the legend, himself, Mr. David Morales dancing with you. OMG!!!!! After the soirée he high-fives you and returns to the DJ booth.  

video: toasatedink

Wakanda Remix

When he said that.  I wanted to cry.”  She gripped her right hand in her bosom and sighed. Seconds paused.  Seconds passed.  Onze-onze-onze thumped underneath staccato tappings in the background.  In the foreground, the chatter of voices spoke lines from a recently released blackbuster superhero release. At the bar, surrounded by friends and acquaintances the party was off to a liquid start. (more…)

Culoe De Song 

23.02.18

“Father, tell me the story of that night. The night of music, dance, and DJ, and all that happened.”

“Dear Love. It all happened in the land way down south. Mouths profess, “Durrrty, Durrrty,” for the land’s great red clay. Let us sojourn to the city. For within the city’s walls is great music, its capability to draw all kinds of worldly sounds into its hub of drums. I will tell you of the night of music, dance, and DJ.”

“It all began one unseasonably warm night. That night marked the final cycle of BPM. Black Peoples’ Month, the celebration of history & herstory. This was a time for not only celebration, but of reflection, of ancestors and their vast contributions and varied gifts to the world. This too was the cycle when the drum sojourned to the city. ATL’s Alley Cat Music digitally posted the message over a network of platforms. House heads, techno heads, and Afro-lovers all gathered at the city’s, “Edge” to inhale the breath of beating drums in a boombox named…” (more…)

FRANÇOIS K

Staying Woke

“Everybody it’s January 28, 2017.”

“Yayyyyy!” A sea of voices yells.

“If you think I’m going to play music that puts you to sleep. I’m not! There is some $hit that is happening out THERE and I want you to WAKE UP!!!,” shouts an accented baritone, drowned by more “whewwwws” and “yaaayyyys.” His voice shakes with concern and rightfully so. His stare fixated on the audience as his finger reaches down and presses play. On cue, knocking percussions beats underneath a Lowrey organ’s chords as Timmy Thomas croons, “Why Can’t We Live Together?” (more…)

#HITPmatters

“HONK.” As sedans, pickups and 4X4’s slow to a crawl on I-20 eastbound at the ramp of Boulevard, the traffic on the World Wide Web stalls. Thankfully, no vehicles or servers, for that matter, crash. Finally!-And no not the CeCe Peniston classic-House In The Park Sunday arrives! (more…)