There can only be one way to describe the effect Simon DK had on us. Devastating. With two hours of superb, flowing 'grooves', he had us in the palm of his hand. Deep, soulful vocals vied with extended, jazz tinged dub excursions and complemented the overall laid back, and most definitely classic US pumping groove. Quite literally, it took our collective breath away.
Now, cynical bastards that we are, we do see a lot of DJ's in our wide travels round hovels, including a lot of 'names', and quite frankly some of them do leave a tinge of disappointment on the ol' palate. It may be that we, the party people, ourselves build them up to be some kind of seamless, statutory provider of good vibes. Or some star. Their charisma somehow 'making' the party. Or the press hype the fuckers up to gargantuan levels of expectation. So much so that they can never really fulfil these exalted expectations.
The truth is that the party is completely dependant on the people present, their state of mind and their input into the atmosphere. All a good DJ can do is take this enthusiasm, latch onto it, and take it a notch higher than say, a mediocre DJ can.So imagine the effect DK had on the 100 fluffcore here tonight. His reputation and status are richly deserved. Cheers Simon. It was a great pleasure and er, religiously ecstatic. Expect him down to 7th Heaven as soon as we can set a date. Now, there were a few 'small' problems we ran into during the setting up. To begin with, we'd spent most of the late afternoon and early evening setting up our rather superb feel-a-round bass-tastic and of course house music complementing sound system. The club management walk in, when we've finished, and tartly informed us "No way". We were gutted. We tried the in-house rig. It was fucking shite. We left ours up, but unplugged. 10pm came and went. The people slowly trickled in. Then complaints began to be voiced. Some people even began to leave. We were so fucking embarrassed we decided to fuck the consequences and at 2am fired up our rig.
The atmosphere changed instantly. Throb Felt, the first DJ on after the switch lifted up the vibe to somewhere near normal level. Swamp and Donkey carried on lifting it up (oo er) so that by the time DK arrived we virtually had it up to the desired level, and some of the earlier damage had been repaired. With the plug pulled at 6, it seemed that the party had only lasted 4 hours (it had).Spotted - Smartyn nearly weeping after all the aggro of the afternoon, not being able to stroke his compressor, and on top of all that, losing his little friend (a replacement was sought and found), Pam and John having a snog!, Pam rolling around on the floor, Pam threatening to get a taxi to Club UK with Lampy our not so faithful sound engineer extraordinaire, Pam rolling around under a table, on her own, John losing 2 hours, one of the door staff that come with the club asking DK if he'd paid and who the fuck he was when he arrived (and not as politely as that either!), the same door person threatening to punch a DJ coz he was 'fucking shit', Evs and Sall, LF number 10 or what?, Now Ey pulling out his wares, Kier gurning away blissfully to Simons set, Sara and Nick back from their hols in sunny climes, Sue with her home prepared vitamin drink, Simon leaving the keys to the brand new hire car outside, in the car door, in the street, and it was still there when he went back (much to his relief) and we're meant to be in Brixton, on the front line?!!, Nick having a breakdown or a total character re-arrangement and being frightened all night, Randy pissing all over his new wheels on his van like the dawg that he is and lots, lots more that are too sensitive or incriminating to talk about but come and see us, and for a small fee (a pint of beer'll do) we'll let you know.
After a post mortem at the Bar and Bra in Fav The Glee Club is now looking for a new London venue. Oh, and as a footnote, try and get a copy of the Dk tape. There's 35 of them and, take it from me, hearing is believing.
Another person's Eyes
Well, the evening was a roller coaster ride from the depths of shite, to the peaks of beauty. At one point I was contemplating going and hiding in Martyn's van, as I just couldn't take the embarrassment any more. The vibes were heavy and down, the music sounded awful through the farty PA, the room was cold and unwelcoming, everyone was very subdued, despite being so shitfaced (or because of). Lots of friendly faces were missed, sorely and the club seemed unbearably empty. Everything seemed beyond being able to improve. And then, just when everyone was just about giving up and some started to leave, Ramsden went 'fuck it' and illegally plugged his own PA in which we had been forbidden from using. And the effect was nothing short of miraculous, combined with the pleasing tones of Throb's groove-arama. At last, I could start to relax, as what should have been happening from 10 o' clock began instead to happen at 2. Still, at least it did. And the evening went up from there. Ending on an ecstatic high with everyone raised to a trance-like state. There was an abrupt turn-around from there being no atmosphere at all, and everyone sitting huddled on the stage, to a lovely pumping, sweating, heaving throb of happy smiling peeps. Cheers to Martyn, Simon and those of you that managed to stick it out that long. I'm sure you'll agree, the end of the night put a perspective on all that had gone before.