The Future is Female was a campaign slogan often referenced in 2016. The then United States presidential nominee was the frontrunner to secure a historic presidency. A woman, who might lead the free world. But that hope was squashed by the electoral college. So began the sexist rhetoric. Where did her campaign go wrong? What she said. What she did not say. All bullshit that failed to wholly address the accuracy for why America loathes a woman president. Misogyny.
Punishing women who challenge male dominance must be addressed. A glass ceiling not broken because she did not fight hard enough, say the correct response on a talk show, or look the part. Again, the age-old adage shows its face: women aren’t good enough or can never be great enough.
The same is said for women in the business of music. Women appear as vocalists with no acknowledgement. Their production credits go ignored. Then there is the risk of sexual assault. Death threats. Career death threats-if hey ever much less had a career to begin with.
Classic house music is guilty as charged. The genre is one big boys club. Women are reduced to side-pieces instead of showcased in the spotlight. At the main attractions? The lines are very murky. Forget about women headlining major festival lineups. Oftentimes, their pseudonyms are limited to one or two lower slots on digital ads. View any major metropolis’ upcoming electronic dance events and men, cis-and-white, are top bill. Above all, the industry appears unwilling to change. Sadly, neither is America.
Perhaps one can dream. In the current era of global regression of democracy and freedoms, there is a movement progressing the voice of music into the embrace of equality and inclusivity in the capital of the Dirty South.
Picture Atlanta on a way too hot Saturday night in September, a party starts off the same. There stands DJ Playr1 with arm in sling cueing Honeysweet’s “Exodus of 21.” Behind shiny hardware his frame towers. Unassuming. Buried underneath shadows, he is a member of the collective Mood To Move.
Mood To Move’s guest headliner steps to bat. Her frame is dainty. Yes, the pronoun she is accurate. The woman with cropped bangs arrives to the rescue playing Detroit’s Delano Smith featuring Diamondancer’s “A Message For The DJ. The Jimpster Red Light Mix was released in 2005 when many of these kids dancing boohooed to “We Belong Together” from Mariah Carey. The illustrious playlist continues with musclecars’ “Tonight” (Unreleased Dub), white labels from pop princess Aliyah’s “One In A Million” to pop queen Janet Jackson’s “Throb” (LP Version). But Mark Broom’s “Klashjamz” shines the brightest juxtaposed to Dennis Ferrer’s “Red Room” and LADYMONIX’s recently released remix of Girls of the Internet’s “Gravity.”
It is difficult to believe that this is LADYMONIX’s debut appearance in Atlanta. After all, LADYMONIX knows music. She shouts out NDATL’s Kai Alcé who is in the building by playing his New Feel version of Mr. G’s “U Feel Mi.” One would think the multi-hyphenated sheroe was born and bred in the Motor City. Nope. Everyone is from somewhere else. Born in Baltimore, years spent in Los Angeles, the current Detroiter has aimed to cement her brand of melodic vocals, 90’s dubs, and Detroit Techno.
At Future nightclub where the acoustics need a complete overhaul, the massive space is filled with way too many bat-winged eyelashes and way too many vapors, as a few youngsters exit stage left. There is barely a grey hair or a balding head in the building.
This leads to another political issue with underground dance music events, the generation gap on dance floors. The idea of people retiring from nightlife in their mid-30s is extinct. Boomers and Gen Xers realize that house music is all-life-long and so is going out to dance clubs. This particular phenomenon is true in the world of deep house. As deejays and shejays gray, so do their followers. These house music for lifers greatly contribute to the night life’s economic muscle through culture, community and currency. Take Atlanta, the city too busy to hate, what is most disconcerting is the elders do not intermingle with the kids on dance floors. Most parties are segregated by age. Where promoters target their family and friends and those who appear as them. Understandably, veteran clubbers cringe seeing a mass electric sliding to a low-fi thumper of Whitney Houston’s “Queen of the Night.” And screaming “oowa oowa” is as lame as it gets. Yet, instead of thinking that both generations are out of sync with each other, each could learn and benefit from the other’s energy. The club should be an effective establishment that cultivates intentional intergenerational dance.
Mood To Move with Soul Connection
And this is how you capture the perfect photo op. On display are three beautiful women of color across generations at the Georgia Beer Garden’s concrete embrace on a chill, damp Saturday night weeks later. In the Old Fourth Ward neighborhood, there stands Atlanta’s luminary DJ Debbie Graham handing over the musical reins to NYC’s Soul Connection’s twenty-something years young, DJ Lovie and Honey Bun.
They say if you don’t mate ’em’ for life, then make’ em’ your work partner for life. This is true for Lindsay Summers (Lovie) and Samantha Taylor (Honey Bun) both Brooklyn residents. Lovie hails from Washington DC having attended classes in Seattle for theatre and acting. During the pandemic, Lovie arrived in NYC with a mask and a controller. She met Taylor who showed her how to play CDJs. Thereafter, Lovie applied for and received a slot on The Lot Radio and the rest is herstory.
Lovie tells her story through a kaleidoscope playlist. It is a who’s who in soulful house music, Blaze’s “Gloria Muse” (The Yoga Song), Stacy Kidd’s “The Get Down” (Tribute Mix to Paul Johnson), Trinidadian Deep’s “Island Roots Sonics” and Ron Trent featuring Chez Damier’s “Don’t Try It.” There are bops, Destiny’s Child’s “Lose My Breath” (Maurice’s Nu Soul) that brings the rowdiest cheer to the patio of the night, and Louie Vega’s Club Mix of Jennifer López’s “Get Right” both transporting the partiers back to 2004. There is nothing like viewing Lovie’s manicured nails cue and click Nathan Haines featuring Verna Francis’ “Earth Is the Place” (Restless Soul Remix), the woman empowerment anthem sprinkled amongst the boys club’s powerhouse anthems: Makam’s “You Might Lose It” (Kerri Chandler JX-8P Mix) to Soul Saver’s “Another Day,” produced by Gerald Mitchell from Detroit. Rick The Godson Wilhite City Bar “Reopen” Live Dancing and Moodymann’s “Black Mahogani” are Dtown throwbacks. But the feel good moment of the party is dancing underneath the stars to Lone’s “Blue Moon Tree” that brings bright smiles and prickly goosebumps.
Honey Bun, born Samantha Taylor in Manhattan but bred in Texas by a mother who worked in urban music, appears behind the CDJs. She recalls living in the recently Bluebonnet state as limiting. So after high school, she studied in Europe. Where she discovered “real” clubbing, learned about RA and danced in old-school Boiler Room videos. Back in the states, Taylor caught the bug to play music. In Bedstuy, she studied the OGs who played soulful house beats on street corners early in the pandemic. Soon after, Taylor conceived the Soul Connection party-the idea inspired by graphics of sex positions from the 1970s as told to DJ Shannon on the podcast Club Management.
Honey Bun’s love for booty-shaking music is evident when playing the Leonce Vocal Mix of Kai Alcé featuring Ash Lauryn’s “Underground & Black” and Beyonce featuring Jay-Z’s “Deja Vu” (Maurice’s Nu Soul Mix) both versions that could go hard in strip clubs. But it’s “The Power” of Karizma’s piano opus that opens the heavens for a drizzle that refreshes the soul.
The year 2021 marked the first Soul Connection. The party welcomed Black and Brown faces, a refreshing soirée challenging white male dominance. Agreeably, Soul Connection might be young, but Lovie’s and Honey Bun’s trajectory is encompassing. Where NYC’s musclecars are carrying the torch for their generation, Lovie and Honey Bun are inspiring young women of color to seize their voice in Black dance music much like a presidential nominee, a woman of color, that inspires girls and women to break barriers. Albeit, Lovie and Honey Bun might not be household names yet, their voices are much-needed in the underground world of dance.
Honey Dijon’s Teksupport presents House Nation
Even if you have won a GRAMMY, been honored for your LGBTQ advocacy, cat walked in luxury brand fashion shows, have your own clothing line, worked with the greats from Abloh to Beyoncé. What America hates more than a woman is a trans woman.
Especially a black trans woman.
That’s why we fuckin’ celebrate you Honey Dijon!
Ninety-six hours after a nail-biting election night, Honey’s muthafuckin’ message falls on deaf ears. That same deafness allowed the same misogynistic political attack to be repeated eight years later. Cue a vice president vs a convicted criminal. This time, more Asian, Latina, and white women stood against the vice president whom was projected to win their vote. Nope. Women regurgitated hurtful tropes, I can’t trust her, she wasn’t a great candidate, oh and the favorite, it’s about the economy, stupid. Asian, Latina, and white women wore those excuses as badges of honor. They stood alongside their men. The same toxic men who removed their reproductive choices. Those women threw their support unquestioned with blind loyalty expected from man’s best friends; bitches. Their faithful submission defeated the feminist cause. How 47% of women can support a womanizer is unfathomable.
Meanwhile, afront an imposing illuminated monitor that appears to eye your every move, Queen Honey brings the drama. The sound of viola strings soaring to the rafters before hands clap double-time beneath the ringing of a brass bell that beckons asses to shake to the concrete floor. The congregation gathers in a former cargo ship hanger as a recognizable alto from Baltimore’s Ultra Nate belts “I’ve got something to give” on Quentin Harris’ “Give It 2 U.”
The Q’s Give U More dramatic opener falls short. The thousands of predominantly white, male, and gay visages appear clueless. Uninterested. Culture vultures. Fashionably late to the party. And purposefully oblivious. They mirror the current climate of more than half of registered voters in this country. Zombies.
This party plays out like one tiresome season of “The Walking Dead.” The zombies spread their plague. Clearly, there is ample space to the left and more than enough room to their right to maneuver around you dancing to Barbara Tucker onstage belting “Beautiful People.” Except this crowd ain’t beautiful. These beeches tread right into you. A brush against your shoulder or a bump in the ribs is felt. If one more bitch touches you, you swear.
When patrons stand in a queue to check in their coats for over thirty-five freaking minutes, there are way too many of them in here.
There are way too many gays in here. You clarify to your bestie who is both gay and a husband.
What you don’t tell your friend is that there are way too many white gay guys in here. Your bestie is of German and Polish descent.
Too many white males in one room causes anxiety. And you have no effing clue of whom all these beeches voted for or if they effing voted at all. After all, this is a Honey Fucking Dijon party. Queen Honey commands equality and inclusion.
Sadly, the crowd is 85% white male gay and they are all shirtless. 5% are women. 5% are people of color. The other 5% is Asian gay dudes. The metrics be damned.
Hell, this ain’t Nashville, it’s fucking Brooklyn!
At Brooklyn Storehouse you expect much more. Except, there is no fashion. And forget about watching anyone duck walk. These fucks are purposefully oblivious. And they don’t give a fuck!
These days young people travel in packs. They prey around and talk to each other stealing valuable dance floor real estate until someone passes the fuck out. Like the young guy being carried by another young guy to harm reduction. Wait! Security, look at that guy stealing other people’s valuables like belt bags and crossbody bags from unsuspecting dancers. As others are pushed otherside the fence, to closely guard their belongings and to femme walk to Kevin Aviance chanting live, “CUNTY” next to Honey Dijon is the highlight of House Nation.
“It’s the same beat,” your friend surmises. “Honey has given up on this crowd.” He further explains eyeing a guy splashing water on the face of a baby-faced Asian who is nearly conscious. “[Honey] is just TikToking it.”
Outdoors, a heaviness hangs in the cool draft buzzing from the East River. A disappointment is realized that even Queen Honey couldn’t bandage. Much like the vice president who lost battleground states to secure her future. Failure is felt. An impending doom lurks. The feeling of having security stolen from you as you stand shivering because your jacket was lost in coat check. A glance around reveals, perhaps, all this white male bashing motivated people to elect a criminal, racist and misogynistic loser back into office-their endeavor to take back their perceived power that they never lost to begin with. Albeit, the thug in the White House will once again fuck up even more this divided country. All because America loathes a woman president.
wrds: aj dance
grphc: aj art
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Tags: #dancefloormagic #housemusicexcellence, Atlanta, Atlanta Georgia, Brooklyn, Brooklyn Storehouse, deep house music, DJ Debbie Graham, DJ Player1, Future Nightclub, Georgia Beer Garden, Honey Bun, honey dijon, house music, House Nation, LADYMONIX, Lovie, Mood To Move, NYC, Soul Connection, Teksupport