the new music nut, we
developed a weekly party to celebrate
new indie record releases. A camera
the sleeve of each new disc on Sara's
Producers and bands were invited
for free beer and
had their discs debuted. This simple
and effective presentation left me
little to do.
Sarah suggested why don't I dance?
bigger than life. Dressed
a cross between Cruella DeVille
and Marie Antoinette, she had a
sense of humor and flair for the
eclectic. Anything from Reggae
to Rat-Pack could land on her turntables.
Anita raised Djing to the level
of opera or grande gignol, it was
eloguent, witty, playful, impressive.
shared his extensive knowledge
of new music, acquainting me with
the bands that were coming to the
club, and turned me onto a lot
of music that was not ordinarily
played in a dance club. In fact,
people did a lot less dancing when
Jeff was at the turntables, and
this made things kind of interesting.
a D.J. who specialized in ambient
goth music, often
blending the fade from one disc
to the next in an extended seamless
limbo that transcended both discs
to make a third. Jeff's mixes were
more like soundtracks that transported
us into a fantastic film noire
one minute, an exotic thriller
the next. You
felt like you were an android in
BLADE RUNNER or a lost soul who
did not need anything but music
to find your way anywhere.
he moved the tempo up and up, it
became like a sporting event to
see who would collapse first. People
sensed this challenge and ran
with it. Finally they would
surrender, run to the bar,
drink as fast as they could
and return for more torture.
The club owners loved Bill. Brother
99 Records, Bill
never had a problem
a marathon atmosphere on the dancefloor.
He liked controlling the pulse of the crowd.
The night MAGAZINE played the
DJ Jeff had me primed with their hits,
and I was beside myself with anticipation.
Wrangeling the 90 foot video cable into
around the very packed crowd kept me too
to worry about much else. Seconds before
the curtain parted, to
make more space for themselves
the crowd pushed me off my podium onto
As Les announced the group,
the black velvet parted and I found myself
inches away from the lead guitar player.
I had to quickly work out a way not to
The lead singer, Howard Devoto was intoxicating
at close range.
Maybe that's not the word, it was more
than intoxication, but to say electrifying
sounds too corny.
The piano player brought tears to my eyes,
he was fantastic. His name isDave
Formula. MAGAZINE- -
arriving at this club,
not tuned into the new music
and I got some "on the job training" from