“We don’t care about y’all.
If you over dance, we don’t have insurance to cover you.”
Perhaps, Baltimore’s DJ Oji should use a more suitable palette of words. After all, the festival’s attendees feel a certain way. After their saga began hours earlier.
02:35 PM
“Huh? Are you sure we are traveling in the correct direction?” You question your friend, the driver.
“Cause we in the middle of nowhere.” You panic.
Nothing looks familiar. As the sedan screeches to a halt, nearly kissing the bumper of the van with Pennsylvania plates ahead. Parked in bumper-to-bumper traffic on a narrow gravel path for what appears to be a mile. Is not fun. The scene of caravans carrying migrants comes to mind. Being stuck in traffic is a logistical nightmare. But hey, the view is amazing. Lush green rolling meadows in rural Maryland. Somewhere outside, way outside of Baltimore.
In the distance, covered by a canopy, supposedly sits a retreat center. That one weekend hosts a Sukkot and the next weekend a get down to some of the finest soulful house music north of the Mason-Dixon? Oh boi, this is about to turn very interesting.
Rolling down the window, the sounds of faint ontz-ontz-ontz seeps inside. Yep, something is happening. However what is happening is still too difficult to determine. In view, cars are turning around. Driving by. No one from the grounds or management appear on foot to address the congestion. Another SUV drives by. Their windows rolled down. “There is no parking ahead.” In other cars, individuals confirm the dreaded news. Parking is packed to capacity. Yet, the line of vehicles slowly crawls forward. Surely, there is parking some place. The vehicle continues its ascent the hill. Finally. A young official from the retreat center confirms the obvious with a shrug of her shoulders when asked, “then where do we park?”
There rolling by in a golf cart is a face that appears familiar. All-too-familiar. Mocha skin. Youthful facial expressions. And the hair. The brown and golden twisties. Is that Thommy Davis coordinating parking? Yep.
Thommy Davis
2330
One week earlier. Word on the streets is that house master Gary Wallace was throwing a get down on Crisman Avenue. Where a wooden floor meets glass mirrors – throwbacks to blue lights in the basement discos- intermingling with round tables and wooden chairs at Club Mirage. The venue in Charlotte, NC. Where the aroma of fried chicken wings and fries dance onto your clothes.
Hearty hugs and hospitable hellos are exchanged. Warm smiles greeting familiar souls. Mouths open wide. Chicken thrown inside. “That’s my song!” A woman yells running towards the DJ table. Someone beats the claves. Another slaps the tamborine. Lisa Fischer singing, “The Star Of A Story” from Louie Vega’s Expansion in the NYC plays crystal clear. The smart sound system fully cranked to hi-def.
0100
Finally, angel wings and a white mask appears underneath a blue strobe light behind two CDJs and a mixer. “Let’s give it up for Mr. Thommy Davis.”
The Baltimore house music pioneer plays late, real late, too late for the Queen City. When clubs are mandated to close at 2 am. Thirty or so bodies stand ready. Their imaginations exceeding expectations. Soon enough the house legend drops bombs. Bomb #1 disco: Roy Ayers’ “Running Away.” Bomb #2 techno: The Detroit Experiment’s “Think Twice” (Henrik Schwarz Remix). Bomb #3 gospel: Ron Hall’s “Talk to God ‘Bout It” (DJ Spen Sunday Service Re-Edit). But the late Aretha Franklin’s “Respect” exploding into MFSB’s “Love Is The Message” sends the dancers running for protective covering. Shells and carnage appear left to right. The dance floor is declared a danger zone. From an onslaught of heavy floor thumpers-celebrating 120 beats per minute.
0200
Outta nowhere, Cub Mirage’s owner appears determined to stop the madness at the top of the hour. The time when the music selector is a conduit of sound. When dancing bodies fall spell to strange rhythms. But nope.
Had the “Mr. Davis” artist continued playing, no telling what additional arsenal he would have reigned on the house heads. More vivacious vocals? More dirty dubs? But sadly, the music crawls to soul ambiguity. The house lights shining. Oh my! Funny how times flies over distance and location.
wrds: aj dance
Thommy Davis grphc: aj art
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Tags: Baltimore House Music, Charlotte NC, Club Mirage, Collective Minds, dance music, dancing, DJ Oji, Gary Wallace, house music, Pearlstone Retreat Center, soulful house music, Tommy Davis