AJ Dance Legacy

David Morales

Helluva Surprises and WTFs!

At 4:05 am, stepping onto Florida Avenue, seen are flashing lights and heard are sirens slashing the chilly air. Police cars, first responders, and emergency vehicles barricade the road. Bystanders stare from street corners.  Finger-pointers stand down 7th Avenue.  Whatever happened doesn’t look good at all. (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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DERRICK CARTER

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What is Chicago’s obsession with Mary J. Blige?  Chi-town’s Emmaculate, Terry Hunter, and now Derrick Carter have remixed her latest chart-topper.  Carter’s version jumpstarts the party with kick drums, hi-hats and the Queen of Hip Hop cooing “Good Morning Gorgeous.”

And gorgeous, they are.  The femmes and doms are out!  For Atlanta’s 51st Pride Celebration.  The must-attend Queen Butch’s “The Last Ball” closes the weekender.  Queen Butch dressed in all black leather.  His furry chest exposed, unzipped biker jacket, fitted pants, and tipped beret brings the boys to his backyard.  Their painted nails, protruding eyelashes and ass less chaps.

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The Karizma Effect

When darkness is fully realized and the moon is only left to guide you.  The humidity registering at 65% sticks to your shirt.  Ewww.  A truck is parked the wrong way on a one-way alley street.  The driver, a woman is passed out at the steering wheel.  Across the street is a lanky man perched  on the sidewalk.  Sleeping.  His face covered with a black hoodie skull.  This is just another Friday night in these streets of Atlanta. 

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Collective Minds

Twelve hours and a near two hour flight later, you stare in the face of adversity.  The soles of your Balenciaga sneakers treading on gravel makes that crunching sound.  While walking?  Yes, walking.  And walking a fair distance too.  That’s sad.  Today’s soulful house music’s target audience is age fifty plus.  People would be upset seeing their mother or grandmother footing several kilometers to a music festival.  Shuttle vans should transport the elders to and fro in AC.  Instead their hands pull coolers.  Their arms cradle shopping bags.  And their backs tote luggage for close to a mile.   

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A Wet Dream, A Prescription, A Block Party Part 1
15.05.22
Indigenous House

Years ago, forefather Tony Humphries told the press, Baltimore house music was underrated. The legend then went on to compare if the music coming out of Baltimore came out of NYC, the Baltimore sound would be more highly regarded. Years later, this sentiment rings true. Just look around.

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A Wet Dream, A Prescription, A Block Party Part II
15.05.22

Indigenous House Interlude

Someone give Tori Cooper her flowers. Give em’ to her now. Who better to serenade the annual honorable individual of Indigenous House than Candy J? She is Sweet Pu$$y Pauline to you. The original Queen B is in the house. Talking. Her raspy “Oooohhh” and “Chyle” with that Detroit drawl, is instantly recognizable. Talk about the who’s who of house music. Legends are everywhere at the park. (more…)

Uncensored

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Finally!

The four-on-the-floor pulls the body through a black frame door. Behold with eyes open-wide. The ballroom of real estate flanked by white walls. Where a mass of colorful cast is on full display. Your black sock sneakers, her green wrap pants and his “I Came Here To Dance With You” red tee, bounces up black stairs to the mezzanine where onlookers grasping vodka in plastic cups witness the pursuits on the ground floor below. Back downstairs, a sharp glance left, atop 4 feet speaker cabinets, sits a monstrosity stage. Where the action borders frenzy. As bulging eyes with dilated pupils gaze forward. Towards a shadowy figure who is barely visible. Her small frame stands hidden behind a white board. That illuminates with blinding black light reminiscent of lightning flashing across the darkness. Brilliant blues and purple LEDs play cat and mouse across the telos. Where screams and cheers thunder ahead. Welcome back to Celine Orlando.

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PARTY I

THE TOURISTS

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“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
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“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…)