Lightsabers, HulaHoops & Diamonds: GlamTech Sparkles.

Posted on March 30, 2013 by Terry Gotham

I’ve always been a fan of hula hoops. Even more so when they strobe, glow or otherwise dazzle.

GlamTech, as a party, a cell of DiSORIENT and an artistic philosophy, was in full effect at the Warsaw. This two-room venue has been the home to GlamTech for years, but it was totally new to me, as was the entire GT experience. After picking up a native Polish beer that I could not spell or pronounce to save my life, I attempted to stealthily move my way through the crowd. This idea fails pretty hard when you’re wearing a disco ball hoodie, so I was greeted by friends and the random well-wishers who congratulated me on purchasing appropriate plumage for this specific event. The crowd that glittered with lights, mirrors and a rainbow of colors parted and I sadly realized I’d missed my BFF DJ Pony’s set when he greeted me in his amazing outfit on the dance floor. I offered my mea culpa to the gorgeous & talented fellow while trying not to be distracted by the cascading rainbows that hoopers, the projectionists & the deco wizards surrounded me with.

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Seven Lions & Porter Robinson Melt a Frozen NYC with Epic Bass.

Posted on March 15, 2013 by Terry Gotham

There he was.

I could have probably hit him with my shoe or the plastic cup in my hand if I wanted to, but that would have been in poor form as he was absolutely obliterating the crowd at Roseland Ballroom. Seven Lions, my absolute favorite aural discovery of 2012, had the crowd in the palm of his hand and he was barely halfway into his third track. The space shook with every beat drop and chilled out with every vocal sample. I’d had an inkling of how badly he was going to kill it but I couldn’t quite picture the enormity of the space rocking out to his entire discography. The stage was ringed with staff to prevent the throbbing mass of 21st century club kid, braver (bro-raver), hipsters, skaters and cornucopia of tri-state area stereotypes from tumbling past the safe area and sweeping through the performance space like a tidal wave of flesh and excitement.

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“America Fuck Yeah!” Tour: Boston comes out Swinging!

Posted on February 5, 2013 by Terry Gotham

http://www.jiveboston.com/

In an effort to ensure I don’t get fat, happy & fundamentalist by only looking at one city and it’s scenes, I’ve decided to start branching out and trying to hit places outside of Gotham where I can see how other cool people do cool things. This weekend, by way of a very dear friend, I was able to check out a sweet, underground electro-swing party in Boston. As I moved past the standard, fist-pumping, lite-beer-swilling, Avicii-spinning (that last one is new) Irish bar the front room of the bar contained, I pondered on eventual fist-fights between party-goers. Wherever my mind was going,by the time I’d checked my coat and paid my tab, It had gotten sidetracked by the Charleston and St. Germain cocktails by Macchu Pisco.

I’d like to say that there was something kitsch about what was happening, or that NYC does/did it better in the 90’s, but I can’t. It was an honest-to-God swing dance party with fun DJs and cool people. Vests, pocket watches, a liberal dollop of fedoras, shiny shoes, fast moving feet, girls spinning like tops and a respectable amount of martini glasses ensured there was no posing or biting in this crowd. The group wasn’t as cocky or flashy as what you’d find at a scene party in Gotham, but people also approached nervous others on the perimeter of the dance floor to ensure they shook their butts to the retro-amazing as well. Something I’ve never seen at a party in NYC, the varsity dancers approaching the JV with a confidence and warmth I didn’t think possible, and I’ve been checking out dance floors since the Clinton years. Continue reading →

Digital Love Delivers.

Posted on February 4, 2013 by Terry Gotham

“Excuse me, could you please make some room and let him through? We have a celebrity in our midst!!”

I thought nothing of it until I looked up and saw Guncle, the St. Peter of Brooklyn’s pearliest & most ephemeral of gates, ushering me forward. As he is one of the most visible and delightful members of the underground, the line parted like the Nile, as we all know not to question the man when he wants something. After presenting my ticket, I received my wristband from Bob Bob-omb, the resident Techno Viking of Digital Native. In case you weren’t aware that East Coast burner camps had techno vikings, one would only need to look down to reconfirm this fact, as there were two large swords on the check-in desk, which were a wonderful way of reminding people coming in off the street not to screw with this party. Digital Native was here with The Love Muscle, and they weren’t getting pushed around by anyone while having a good time. After thanking my friends Guncle & Bob (it’s Mr. Bob-omb when you’ve done something wrong), I dropped off my outerwear & headed to the bar to take in the space. The BEX was there, performing, keeping the attention of the crowd on the dance-floor, DJ booth, and generally being the Mistress of Ceremonial Awesome that only she can be. The combination of sound, well-costumed staff, the alt-culture bus and the ridiculous art made me want to dust my costume off and take a sip from my camelbak if you know what I mean.

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Nosaj Thing blows minds at Girls & Boys at Webster Hall

Posted on January 26, 2013 by Terry Gotham

Pushing past the dance party going on in the basement & the other dance party on the first floor, I finally arrived at my chosen dance party upstairs. Webster Hall is known for creating 3-4 different worlds per night, and Fridays, the place to be if you’re into underground dance music is Girls & Boys. Unlike the other parties, that spin hip hop, top 40, latin, 80s & 90s and the occasional dash of punk rock & alternative, GBH & Alex English bust their asses every Friday night to get quality EDM DJs from all over the world to blow out the main ballroom. Whether it’s Feed Me, Zedd, Joker, Madeon, Bloody Beetroots or Nero, the consistent stream of sick nasty talent is enough to make even the most jaded, cynical & ancient dance-party aficionado get off his ass and fight the crowd for a chance to hear some of the best sounds on one of the best sound systems in Gotham. Continue reading →

Apocalypse Wow.

Posted on January 4, 2013 by Terry Gotham

I’m not really sure how it happened, but there I was. At the pulpit, a sermon of bass and beats was being extolled through massive speakers, the floor was populated (not packed or empty) with fabulously costumed, friendly people, blinky shiny lights & lasers everywhere, and the deco was reminiscent of Sensation, except…I spent significantly less to get in the door. The new hotness in Gotham Burner camps, Digital Native & Entwined were making a very big splash with this End of the World party, as I expected when I called it the party of the month here. After watching DK make some magic in the basement, I’d wandered up to the main floor where I was stunned by the perfection of it all.

The space, an abandoned church on Bushwick in Brooklyn was both decorated beautifully & functionally. Multiple bars, a smoking space outside (with the amenities you’d expect from a $40+ entry fee’d club), good flow/people traffic and stupidly good music. I mean, I usually find myself in a space that has competent DJs but this was a night where, start to finish, there was quality dance music where it needed to be. The door, watched over eternally by the Immortal Elven Guardian himself, Guncle, led through the coat check to the first bar & dance floor, where the fantasy of doing naughty things in a church basement could be lived out to your heart’s content. Up from the basement, into the main area, with flowered plants made of light paper & gumption peppering the front of the space, there was a certain something to dancing where pews used to be, under the watchful eyes of the paintings on the ceiling.

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Punk Rock & Gender Roles

Posted on January 3, 2013 by Terry Gotham

I can’t say I find myself headbanging very often. My hair is pretty short and that type of behavior doesn’t really mix with a lot of the scenes I run through these days, but, there I was. Honest-to-goodness headbanging, beer in hand, maybe 3 feet from a giant speaker, standing in a bar on Houston Street. I’d not been to anything that resembled a punk, metal or thrash show in years, especially with the slow, agonizing death of CBGBs, but a friend had tipped me off to a new sound that was making its debut this evening, so I made my way over. Was he ever right, JENNCiTY is definitely an act I can’t wait to hear more from. The group has female lead vocals & lead guitar which is a sorely needed presence in this space, now more than ever. But, back to the punk rocking.

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Shiny Silent Disco Balls, Gratitude & Balancing Acts.

Posted on December 25, 2012 by Terry Gotham

Sitting at the diner on Lorimer & Metropolitan, I watched the scores of people lamenting the dysfunctional G train with a quiet smirk. After finishing up the burger & red bull I’d ordered when we were forced out of the station like confused cattle, I made my way to the Electric Warehouse just as cold drops began to fall. Tonight, the unofficial Burning Man Decompression event for NYC was going down and a little rain wasn’t going to stop it.

I shook hands with my friend Drew, the producer of the event and congratulated him while he processed my entry/ticket rapidly. There were dozens of burners in stilts, top hats, fur coats, el-wire tuxedos and all manner of costuming that were aching to get into the space and I didn’t want to get in their way. After checking my coat I received what I have come to cherish at Drew’s annual event, my hug to enter. Every attendee is given an honest-to-goodness hug. Not a patdown, not a security check and not a grope. A straight up “thanks for coming, you’re cool, gimmie a hug” hug. Which feels great, and there’s a person of each gender so it doesn’t get weird of course. I get hugs from both people (because I like to live on the wild side) then head in to check out the Silent Disco. Two DJs I am totes crushing on right now were rocking out.

The Silent Disco, run by a clever fellow by the name of Michael White, provides each of the listeners in a space with can-style headphones, with a button to press to switch between two DJs spinning in the room. This solves two problems. First, you can have two DJs playing violently different music standing next to each other with no problems, and secondly, if you want to have a conversation with someone, you take off the headphones & the room is splendidly quiet. The consummate professional DJ Pony & the gorgeously talented DJ Orange Krush were opening the night there, generating the dance floor from thin air yet again, like two beat-matching magicians. Slowly but surely, burners, ravers, club kids, hipsters, girls in slinky dresses & heels, guys in camouflage pants & hoodies, all manner of person came in, put their headphones on and got down. By the time the duo were halfway through their sets, the tent outside the party was packed warm, with projection work on the ceilings and two simultaneous dance floors intermingling I went back inside to grab a bottle of water, suddenly being reminded how big the old trolley repair station actually was. 10,000 sq feet, high ceilings and places to hang lights & equipment galore. A friend was delighted to find his pictures were playing off of a projector, and a stream of amazing HD photographs lit up the bar. As I chatted with DJ Resy, who was taking the night off behind the decks to help out at the bar, I remembered what Gratitude was all about. Many of the people at this event haven’t seen each other since Burning Man, while others see each other daily/weekly.

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Big Booty Breaks at Vitamin B

Posted on December 16, 2012 by Terry Gotham

I finished my beer by the 8ft tall Christmas Tree at the bar down the street from the L train and ducked back into the chilly air, pushing past a few yupsters smoking American Spirits below the ironic red, neon sign that says BAR above the door to a place that sells artisanal cheeses and microbrews. It was that time of the month again, Vitamin B was back, and it was time for my fix of epic breaks.

I arrived on the early side because the guest opener, DJ Orange Krush was someone I definitely did not want to miss. A dj, designer & all around excellent human being, I first encountered her particular flavor of shake your booty, funky house & breaks on the Boom Boat, the Disorient day boat party, a day that is not to be missed if you are down with sick music with a cool mix of burners (just try to ignore the volume of bad “I’m on a boat” jokes made). She was rocking out the dance floor early on in the day and the crowd was eating it up. Tonight was no different. I arrived to see the sparsely populated dance floor swell. I give far more credit to DJs that make dance floors happen as opposed to just maintaining them. To get people out of their shells is much more difficult when they think they’re alone, so the music has to be that much better. And it was. The influences ran the gamut from Latin, to hip hop, tinges of chip, dashes of tech and this underlying bassline that just could not be ignored.

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ReSolute packs the house & The Martinez Brothers burn it down.

Posted on December 1, 2012 by Terry Gotham

The bass was impressive, so I was having trouble hearing what the Resolute staff member was saying. I had asked how much the price at the door was again, as I didn’t believe I’d heard it correctly the first time. There was no VIP at this event and I’d not gotten wind of it until right before, so I didn’t have time to get advance tickets (mandatory for the budget-conscious partier). He repeated himself, and I realized that yes, I was waiting on a line to eventually hand someone $40+ to stand in a room. A big room, with a huge skylight, and 3 stories of exposed brick, a room with nice speakers and bar, but still just a room. I had plenty of time to let this sink in, as the line didn’t really maintain any pretense of moving.

With the line soon poking out the door like nakedness in ill-fitting bathing clothes, I made it to the front, saw a somewhat maudlin door-girl casually request two weeks of metrocard rides, and haphazardly apply my wrist-band. The inertia of being away from the packed rectangle of stasis kicked on and I swung over to the token-based bar for a stiff drink. Or, a token, such that I could go wait on another line for said stiff drink. The “bread line” construct drifted through my mind as I meandered from the front of one line to the back of another, twice.

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