AJ Dance Legacy

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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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…)

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…)

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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Thommy “Turn It Out” Davis

1600

His shirtless majesty showcasing chiseled pectorals is in beast mode. Playing heavy four-count thumps that erupts from giant black cabinets. And dancing in front of those speakers will cause hearing loss for days to come. “You’ve waited all week to dance,” proclaims a diva loudly rapping over a beat that slaps. Standing on the pavilion’s ledge is one man who leans into the ear of another and speaks, “More like [we waited] a year.”

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All Hail, the King.

1650

Interlude

The music comes to a silence. There is an interlude of talking into a microphone from the founder of Indigenous House and the master of ceremonies. Yasss chyle! Most people are aware that Indigenous House is LGBTQIA affiliated, sadly most people are unaware the event is not called house music in the park.  More words are spoken about acceptance and monetary donations. But more entertaining is reading the statement tees over here and over there, the best reads: “The dance floor is my happy place.”

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