Where is the Love?
The City That Abandoned Funky House
Bye bye. The city’s funky house music days are done. For a city that is too busy partying, it sure does know how to kill a scene. Namely, funky house music, the sub-genre of house music. For those that missed funky house music’s obituary and its home-going service in this city, please, read on.
Obituary
Our beloved funky house music transitioned to the heavens. The music that once captured devoted hearts and lifelong fans in this city may be gone but its memories will never be forgotten.
Funky house music was the life of the party. However, its sound was no one-man show but a contemporary that was influenced by the unexpected. Its friends; boogie, disco, funk and R n B all contributed to its song. Vocals, television theme shows and rap lyrics performed its message. Funky’s love for electronic synthesizers, heavy samples and soulful bass lines defined its character and established its charisma.
Birthed on Chicago’s North Side during the decade of excess, funky house was one of house music’s many children-ghetto house, juke house and acid house-to birth during the cities electronica renaissance. The noughties secured funky house music’s global popularity thanks, in part, to the westward expansion of Chicago’s house music DJs and America’s rave culture. Funky hosue music continued its reign throughout the close of the twentieth century and into the early twenty-first century until it retreated into fragmented territories.
Funky house music lived; edgy, energetically, vibrantly and full of life. It paid no relevance to playing it safe or ever slowing down. Its heartbeat pumped at 125 to 130 beats per minute. Its pulse marched to the beat of its own drum loops of build-ups and breaks downs that resembled a kick-ass rollercoaster ride of drama. This rollercoaster ride of drama is what kept many of players out dancing all night and playing its song till the wee hours of the morning light. Much can be said for its demise however, one fact is certain, funky house music was loved. Its sound is survived by parent house music and siblings, soulful house, and deep house.
The funeral service schedule:
Cory Benoit & William Caldwell 9 pm
Silk Wolf 10 pm
Mike Zarin 11 pm
Charles Feelgood 12 am
Cory Benoit & William Caldwell 2am till close
The Funeral Service
Can you hear the music? When the single frame door with a putrid black paint job opened, an upbeat melody with pronounced four counts announced its presence. The merry melody escaped captivity. It blew outdoors where it froze in below freezing temperatures on the coldest night of the year of the snake.
Up the stairs, “Please Stand By,” pass the lovely money collector, “Hi!!!”, pass the ID checker, “Yes, I’m older than 21” and around the corner…..
Startled!?! The scene appeared to be a funeral that no one bothered to attend. What happened? Invites were distributed. Social media websites visibly promoted the event. Yet, the faces of family expected to show played ghost. The majority of the few faces, present, appeared frighteningly unfamiliar. Had funky house music a mistress with relatives no one knew? Damn funeral surprises. Not surprisingly, the few supporters in attendance were scattered across the room. Only a handful bothered to dance. A quick head count revealed only twenty bodies on the dance floor. Throughout the room, the empty pockets of space outnumbered the guests.
The stage was set. Literally. The sound system had moved from the catacomb in the room’s rear to center stage, in the front of the room, sitting in a coffin on a table. The change of set-up occurred to accommodate two 18 speaker bottoms and a fog machine. The fog machine sprayed the room as a faint whiff of carcinogens roamed by. Shining underneath one of the two disco balls, the position of the coffin proved noteworthy. Funky house music seemed to nod with approval. Additional space onstage meant greater crowd intimacy and allowed the crowd greater voyeurism.
DJ Mike Zarin, dressed in vintage 4Deep garb, rocked the casket of equipment energetically with a funky house tribute not heard from him since his early 4Deep days playing at Connect parties. How appropriate, Tranzlife’s “Heart Attack” played soundtrack to the grief- stricken fiasco. At least two supporters tried to make the best of the situation, responding with handclaps and out of this world dance moves.
The hour hand ticked ever so closer to midnight. The bug that buzzes with excitement dropped dead. Without hype and little fanfare, the event’s guest headliner appeared onstage wearing a suave black leather jacket that would later come off to reveal two sleeves of tribal tats. The man appeared armed and dangerous.
The guest DJ, from southern California, bio reads like a champion of funky proportions. The “Time To Get Ill” mixtape producer is responsible for putting funky house music on the map in the east coast cities of Baltimore and Washington D.C. alongside then partner DJ Scott Henry during house music’s heyday in the 1990’s. His production and remix credits include a who’s who list in the electronic dance world that spans decades and garnered hundreds of fans.
Currently, his name is Charles Feelgood, yet a few remembered when he was simply, “Feelgood.” To make the people feel good is what the maestro set out to do. For the two hours that followed, Charles Feelgood would deliver nothing short than a stellar musical eulogy to his soul buddy number one, funky house.
Enter the band Rufus & vocalist Chaka Kahn singing “Any Love” that partied over a bed of sliced disco house that ascended to heavenly heights. A few that recognized the classic showed love with vocal praise. Jamaroquai stopped by. The blue-eyed soul delivered the funk with “All Good In The Hood.” Bay area bred, Oakland, CA fed, DJ Mes provided disco-drenched beats that bumped and wobbled not only the subwoofers, but dancing feet. Rescue’s mega-hit, “Every Freakin’ Day,” that samples 1990’s R n B legends, Jodeci’s, “Every Freakin’ Night” proved too predictable during the tribute. Feelgood’s D.C. buddies, 95 North’s alias, Johnny Corporate stopped by. Their song “Sunday Shoutin,’” that samples Atlanta’s own Brick, “Living From The Mind,” put the church into the house. People shouted and danced. This spectacle would generate the most action the dance floor would see for the rest of the night. Stop! The four-on-the-floor gave way for a slower urban groove as guitar strings plucked over softer drums. The red carpet was rolled out and the velvet rope pulled back for reality television’s latest diva, Toni Braxton’s “You’re Makin Me High.” The 1995 Atlanta-brewed jam felt underappreciated and went unnoticed. The dance floor’s census dropped, twelve to five. Feelgood brought his hype men. A man, standing over six feet, stood onstage and played music director with animated arm thrusts leading the crowd to sing Stevie Wonder’s “Do I Do.” The 1982 scorcher, and the party’s “That’s my song,” played at high speeds, minus a house beat, with the song’s original drums and percussions left intact. Certain segments of the song were looped for dramatic effects. The re-edits only miss, Dizzy Gillespie’s arousing trumpet solo. Again disco, George Benson’s “Give Me The Night” (Instrumental), constructed the groove to funky house beats. Orchestra strings and blaring trumpets dotted the landscape of funky house’s grandmother the late, disco. Fragmented vocals sliced in syncopated sound bites created a heated disco chant. Basically, Diana Ross’ vocals sung “Burnin” over and over and over again. Next Feelgood dropped the music to allow the vocals to play. This is a DJ’s non-verbal cue for the audience to sing along. The late Whitney Houston sung. “I Wanna Dance With Somebody/With Somebody Who Loves Me.” The dispersing crowd showed no love. More or less they seemed clueless. The late icon, MJ’s chops were chopped on “Rock With You.” The song was a floor burner equipped with hard core analog thumps that played proud and loud but Mike’s vocals abruptly disappeared without any reason. Teddy Pendergrass “Get Up, Get Down” uplifted the party. The late legend sang, “Do You Want To Party?”
Over walked a drunken female. “C’mon dance,” she slurred. By the end of Feelgood’s set her ass would smack the wooden dance floor. Oops. Yes, everyone would see it. And sorry, no one would care to help her up.
By two am, the handful of scattered few danced around like there was no problem or care in the world. Actually, everyone felt good and drunk. One person took being intoxicated too far; a woman dressed in a black blouse with black lace trimmings and blue denim had her head smashed down on the table asleep. Sign of the times: funky house music was dead, at least in this city.
Somewhere in the arms of time, the motto: for the love of funky house music, died. As one pallbearer stated, “We tried.” In the city too busy complaining, “Where is the funky house music and I feel like some funky house music tonight,” all one can do is to try. Sadly, in the end trying was not enough. The music sub-genre that once carried, through life’s joys and pains, on its back a family of loved supporters, dancers and DJs bothered not to show face or support. Guess they bothered not to read the writing on the wall.
Words and photography by AJ Dance
Share this:
Tags: Atlanta Georgia, Charles Feelgood, funky house music, house music, Mike Zarin, Shelter Atlanta