AJ Dance Legacy

Chaka Khan Hacienda 

Grows Up

Ree De La Vega ain’t new to this. The Chaka Khan Hacienda curator has been at it for years, close to two decades. There is no time for the celebrated planner to party.  She commands attention. Her signature black bangs, shoulder length mane, black stunners, red jersey dress and legs for days, struts across the hardwood to surprise someone with a heartfelt hug. Earlier, the avid vinyl collector distributed wristbands at the entry gate of her own event.  The sometimes model is a force to be reckoned. She knows how to throw the best get downs. A lesson many promoters dare to finesse from her playbook.  (more…)

A National Treasure 

“THIS IS WHY I DON’T DO ART GALLERIES.”  You vent.  (more…)

Prologue 

“How long does it take to get a damn bottled water?” The bartenders dressed in shoulder less black halters are wearing black masks. By 2 pm, people are tripping over, slightly inebriated, or buzzed from Moscow Mules or whatever trendy libations are du jour. You’ve waited so long at the bar that you start a conversation with a lady wearing micro braids. 

“What’s the wait about?” She asks over Akabu featuring Ovasoul7’s “Raw Love” (Joey Negro Club Mix).  Pockets of prime real estate appear. As the crowd thins.  That allows you to spin around and two-step adjacent the libation station as you wait and wait and wait.  Eyeing the servers inching away, further south the rectangle bar.  All you want is a bottled water.  

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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…)

Gimmick Music

Kai Alcé

2345

Walking into the club when the Kerri Chandler Dark Mix of Lea Lisa’s “Something for the Dancers” is playing means this is money well spent.  In the era of inflation, when the DJ drops your favorite from KemiticJust featuring Terrance Down’s “I’m Here For It” you totally agree, you came here just for this moment.  To dance.  To smile.  To laugh with friends.  Life only gets better.  When the percussions of Afro beats that drives young feet to stomp and the sneakers of the middle-age to shuffle around steel columns to Detroit Swindle, oops Dam Swindle featuring Jungle by Night’s “Call of the Wild,” is the most excitement of the party thus far. (more…)

Collective Minds

“We don’t care about y’all.

If you over dance, we don’t have insurance to cover you.”

Perhaps, Baltimore’s DJ Oji should use a more suitable palette of words. After all, the festival’s attendees feel a certain way.  After their saga began hours earlier.

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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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Uncensored

0025

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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THE CHAMPIONSHIP GAME

Late night, the temperature reads a chilly 43-degrees, up in these streets, at the intersection of Ivan Allen Junior Blvd and Marietta. The soul awakens. From muffled thumps of bass heard in the distance. The hypnotic groove guides the body ever so closer to the pulsating nucleus. A black building. Covered windows. Littered with paper flyers. Destination affirmed. The pearly whites appear on the doorman’s smile. ID? Check. Ticket? Scanned. Proof of vax? Test? Or mask? Yeah. This is going to be one of those nights. Sweaty. Dirty. Nasty. Just #discoandhousemusicexcellence to purview. (more…)