Is It In Yet?

There were only two things that kept this from being the party of the century: The organization and the order.

The lineup was good, but everyone played at the wrong time so there was no build up, no sense that the party was getting better and better, aiming towards some boiling point where everybody would be in the same room at the same time, and probably naked. The ten o'clock kids didn't wait for the midnight heads, and the midnight heads didn't wait for the afterhours set, so everyone came in to a kind of stillborn party. Viewers like You opened with a clunky industrial set, which was followed by some confusion as to who would go next, during which point someone put on some reggae. After the reggae, Menowah came on. His music was alright, but lacked flair, and probably wasn't his best (hopefully wasn't his best, at least, because I'm a jealous, cynical DJ and I got a total I-can-do-that vibe from his set, and I'm pretty sure I've got some friends who've copped to hooking up with him after gigs and next-to-no-one who's hooked up with me).

Next up was Alltruisms, a North Side rapper who came out of the old Organic Mind Unit crew, a short guy who has that kind of Cage/Eminem/El-P schizophrenic whiteboy thing going for him, but with some good goofball/political wordplay on the side (his new album is called High Like Giraffe Balls). He's good, but the sound was shit, and I think it was just him spittin too close to a shitty mic. Still he got a crowd going, and Deep Element should've had em in the bag, but it never seemed to work out, he jumped the gun on a lot of good tracks, and played Justice before the people were ready to be all "Sexyback" about it.

This is all really 20/20 hindsight, but I was supposed to play that night and my set got cut short because somebody called the cops (from within, a fuckin narc!) and the man with the PA didn't think it was worth it to have me jamming for the few people that were left at three-whatever in the morning when they showed up. Because of that, I had time to overthink what should've happened.

Sir Vixx and Nightfoxxx should have switched places. Sir Vixx's energetic breakcore is the perfect thing for people who are already dancing or retarded-drunk, but it's not the best at getting people in on the floor. If Nightfoxxx had gone in with guns blazing, a million homemade mash ups and Bonde Do Role and a couple of oddball cuts, the party would have become born again and Sir Vixx would have taken them over the edge, as it was, a lot of music that should have (and could have) been complimentary ended up working against each other.

When Modemtotem, or Les Beaux, or the Boris Kar-Loft or whatever it's calling itself these days is hype, it's a plus that it's a big musty warehouse. When it isn't, and you're trying to get more than a noise show off, it becomes a liability. The glamour girls go back to the club and the stalwarts go outside. People get rowdy, the cops show up, and I lose my slot.

C'est la vie. Parties in Chicago are no clandestine thing.