AJ Dance Legacy

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.   (more…)

Rock The Park DC

Miguel Migs

Day 2

2000

“Oh, I did aight.” Kenny Dixon Jr jokes with you the following afternoon. He walks arm and arm showing off his lady around Franklin Park.  You marvel, he appears refreshed, his skin polished in the glowing sun.  

Later that evening, Hostess Reesa Renee reminds the people.  “Give it up for Moodymann last night,” with microphone in hand as if she is ready to spit bars. The Maryland born singer/songwriter proceeds to read the bio of the upcoming headliner who the people came to see.  (more…)

OVEOUS

So what does an OVEOUS playlist sound like?  The music that Osunlade plays.  Percolating percussions.  Meditative melodies.  Ancestreal chants.  A major difference being OVEOUS spits verses, live.  Holding in hand a microphone he raps, “Find your friends on the dance floor. Or make new friends on the dance floor.”  Osunlade and OVEOUS are arguably interchangeable.  The latter having been mentored by the Yoruba priest, is a member of the Yoruba Recordings family.  Debuted as OVEOUS MAXIMUS, he first released, “I Apologize” (The Remixes) over a decade earlier.  The Ezel Remix brings back fond memories when the music selector sings, “I’m so sorry. (3X) I apologize.”  That has you mouthing along in harmony.

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PARTY I

THE TOURISTS

0100

“LOUIE VEGA COME ON!” Yells an overzealous Vega fan holding a vinyl record.
“LOUIE. I WANNA HEAR SOME OF THAT HAL-LE-LUJIAH!” He sings.
“LOUIE PLAY THAT BLACK MUSIC.” He continues. “Then watch all these kids leave the room.” (more…)

Party II

THE PURISTS
0235

“COMING THROUGH. DJ COMING THROUGH.” Security courteously yelled. There is no shock that LV has an entourage of eight that trekked through the thick mass of privilege minutes earlier. After all, Louie is the host with the most. His charm oozing through the soundtrack he curates. His ability to make any cast of characters feel inclusive. The music he plays is diverse. Journey through disco, house, gospel, classic house, deep, dark, Afro/Latin, to ancestral. All the while, his playlists embody warmth. Never cold or distant. Calculated on the fly. Ethereal in essence. Spiritual to the core. (more…)

There It Blows.

Overboard! A forceful gust of wind blows a fedora off a head. A giant plastic A-frame sign collapses. The cool draft blows against the perspiration on the lower back as the body jumps and spins 180 degrees. Sneakers effortlessly slide across the smooth cobblestone dotted red and brown. Breathe deeply. The cool crisp air filling the lungs feels not only refreshing but excites the savory glands. Hungry? Dance with friends nearby the vendor selling plant-based bites. Thirsty? Dance your way to the vendor selling liquid spirits? Anyone, for an orange sweatshirt to keep warm? Dance toward the rear entrance canopy where branded apparel is sold cash free. But be cautious dancing in front of giant sub woofers. That emits booms and bass loud enough for big-field festivals.

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OSUNLADE

2300

Twenty-five dollars cash to park! GTFOH. Betta forget about street parking too. Onward the parking quest continues. When music spills over brick edges onto black asphalt. Where groups of melanin hourglasses wearing lemonade braids with sneakers tread. Along the historic of avenues – Auburn.

This is just another hot boy summer Saturday night in these streets. Or is it? As twenty minutes later, the parking conundrum is solved. However, the question remains. Next trip drive solo, again? Or pay $90 round-trip to be chauffeured in a rideshare? Things that make you go “Hmmm.”

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Lend me your ear. To be told of what makes legends. Organic rhythm meets ancestral royalty. Playing for the divinities.

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The House of Kerri Chandler

7 hour set

“BAR-A-THYM”

Handclap,

Bop, bop

Bop, bop,

Bop, bop,

Handclap,

Thump.

Then a lo-fi hum swaggers over shuffling four-counts of claps. Dancers breakout the farmer and the chase. When the DJ drops “Useless,” he means business.

Playtime is over when “Coro” plays. The Kaoz 6:23 Dark Mix delivers a beat down. Feet respond with crisscross steps and jazz shuffles.

From there the playlist meanders into hard garage with amped thumps and techie twisted elegance. AKA, bro music. Those wearing sunglasses, khakis and loafers steadily stream in and out of glass doors.

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