Well, I left off at midnight Sunday so technically Day 3 starts with the second night of afterparties . . . and here's another overly verbose travelogue through the bumpy streets and recycled buildings of Detroit . . . (although a story in the paper over the weekend claimed that Detroit doesn't even make the top 25 for bad roads in the US any more) . . .
I actually had plans to go to two or three late nighters on Sunday but only ended up at the Tangent Gallery, which is just as well since at least one of the others I thought about going to shut down early. Both downstairs rooms were open at the Tangent, with two separate mixing setups, one for the DJs and Murat and one for Cisco Ferreira. Again another big Goree audio extravaganza -- Buzz was in charge of all four official parties this time and they all had above-par sound. I got there in time to hear Murat playing a decent but not real inspiring set, and Mike Huckaby struggling with audio/power issues in the smaller room which he finally got resolved. Cisco Ferreira played a fierce set that had plenty of energy and range. Buzz and Santiago Salazar played for a while waiting for the next DJ, who turned out to be Frankie Bones (they had dispatched people to pick him up but Frankie got his own rental and drove in himself, one of those typical night-of-show mixups). Now Frankie really played pretty badly at the festival a couple of years ago, but this time he got right to it and played a really good old-style mental-as- anything set. As he finished up around 5:30 I was running out of gas so I hit it and quit it. Monday was a standout day at the festival overall. I only caught about half of the Tek Brothers set and regretted being late because it was a really good funk/jazz show. There are some people born to be on stage with a microphone in their hands -- Bill Beaver is one of them. And the band was superb. Mike Clark followed, smooth, sweet and strong as always on the main stage. Also checked out Felton Howard who played a smoothly rolling set using Final Scratch (or something similar) in the DJ Supply booth -- where they had consistently good music all weekend long unlike many of the other booths which featured loud, crappy and distorted mixes by uninspiring players. Marco Passarani was every bit the temperamental Italian at the start of his set in the tent, some kind of turntable problem, but he settled in for an upbeat romp not only through the late-1980s the other Euro DJs were hammering but a wide range of other material. Then it was Octave One playing very solidly on the main stage with terrific vocals by Ann Saunderson. I was more impressed than I expected with the downtempo/hip hop part of their show. I went off for a long stretch in the Musicological tent with a really superb jamming electro/eurotechno set by Highfish. And now we arrived at the big moment -- starting at 9:30, a full half hour ahead of the original schedule (perhaps because Model 500 had been cut off so rudely on Sunday night?), Galaxy 2 Galaxy started the big engine and just roared through their hour and 20 minute set. I think it got the crowd going almost as much as Stacey's Sunday barn-burner. I could talk about the songs, the band, the MC (our own Cornelius Harris), the Native American dancers and drummers, the three women teaching y'all the Detroit Hustle, and more, but I'll leave the details to others. It was a *show* -- less intense musically than the Timeline performance last year, but more geared up to a large tumultuous crowd in the big Hart Plaza ampitheater. Then the festival ended for me with Terrence Parker playing at the waterfront stage with a properly enthusiastic wrap-up. I didn't have much hopes for the Monday night afterparty scene, we can discuss the never-ending Electric Avenue drama later but I didn't end up going to any of their planned or real locations. Instead the final destination was Bleu, which I admit to some misgivings about given that it is positioned as the upscale joint on lower Woodward with that million-dollar sound system. Well, aside from the pricey drinks and the lingerie-clad bar staff (I'm all for showing what you got but this isn't really the place for that!), it turned out pretty well. The crowd that drifted in wasn't high-gloss like the Center Street opening night turnout; these people came to party and the dance floor was full all night although me with my sore feet mostly stayed in the lounge couches on top of the bass bins :) GU played a smooth set, Buzz stepped in to shake things up a bit, and then Kenny Larkin just tore it up for two solid hours. Some DJs "play the club," Kenny knows how to play the room -- within 10 minutes he had figured out the parameters of that million-dollar or whatever sound system and was playing it like I play my practice rig. It wasn't an innovative set, really, just had that great feeling with the deep rumbling bass and the clattering high hats and the swooshy noises, just like it is supposed to be . . . The afterparties rarely satisfy me (this year being no exception) but this one did the job . . . There was one big thing missing from the festival overall, as far as I could tell -- no capital D-as-in-Drama. I didn't miss it. There were schedule slips and technical problems and no doubt the usual ego clashes, but for the first time since year 1 I didn't feel distracted. Of course, anyone on this list who goes to the festival is more attuned to the drama element, but it really does change the underlying vibe and the crowd picks up on it. And even if the candyraver thing seems to chug along, what I saw yesterday was a somewhat older crowd than on Sunday completely getting into the music and the carnival. So give it up for KMS and Submerge. The festival is in good hands. As for the afterparties, there's still too many parties chasing too few attendees. I wonder if that isn't because the parties are often less than well prepared and not offering basic amenities. Spending whatever money on four-color diecut flyers and spreading them all over town but not attending to basic stuff like decent sound or a well-run door. Maybe we'll have to do something about that next year . . . Fred
