The House of Kerri Chandler
7 hour set
“BAR-A-THYM”
Handclap,
Bop, bop
Bop, bop,
Bop, bop,
Handclap,
Thump.
Then a lo-fi hum swaggers over shuffling four-counts of claps. Dancers breakout the farmer and the chase. When the DJ drops “Useless,” he means business.
Playtime is over when “Coro” plays. The Kaoz 6:23 Dark Mix delivers a beat down. Feet respond with crisscross steps and jazz shuffles.
From there the playlist meanders into hard garage with amped thumps and techie twisted elegance. AKA, bro music. Those wearing sunglasses, khakis and loafers steadily stream in and out of glass doors.
People Problem #1
“Oops. At least I did not spill the beer in a glass bottle,” slurs an already inebriated bro who totally misses the point.
“See. That is why I will not go into the center of the dance floor.” One dancer affirms. She is dressed in head-to-toe white. “People spill too many drinks.”
A peripheral scan around the establishment with large windows and exposed bricks reveals a sparkling clean interior. An image the longstanding historic site desires to maintain minus spilled liquor.
The journey to enter Knockdown Center in Maspeth, Queens feels important. The distance is like walking a mile, a very long mile to the doors. And should be celebrated strolling a red carpet with velvet rope and flashing bulbs. Along Flushing Avenue at the fence, ID check, shoes sojourn across yards of open concrete to trek up stairs and into the brick and mortar for another long cue for a ticket scan. Once cleared, enter the main hall. Behold 20,000 square feet, nestled underneath triangular beams and wood columns attached to a wooden ceiling. There even hangs a giant disco ball, shimmering in glory. Exposed brick walls flank all four sides. View air traffic to LaGuardia through perched glass. On any given day, catch sunrays beaming life into the space. Today is not that day. The weather is overcast. Within the main hall capacity caps at over 3,000 bodies but there is no worry. There is ample space to move about. Impressively, Knockdown boasts nine separate spaces for multi-functional events in the former glass factory over a century of age.
Back at the party, a steady stream of everyone who is anyone arrives to an Ian Pooley Cut Up Mix of Daft Punk’s “Burnin.’”
“Yo, Kerri. What is this about?” Brooklyn born Jovonn yells on his latest “Wait A Minute…Stop.” And when the kicks, bass, and snare disappear and the pads are left alone to clap. The body pops and locks.
Yeah, that NYC sound is deep and raw and slaps. But for those begging to go deeper. T-Connection’s “Do What You Wanna Do” satisfies. This is music for old-school disco heads. They are nowhere to be found. Instead, in view is a multi-cultural neutral hue of faces, born later Millennials meets current Generation Z. Their fashion is interchangeable, bucket hats, wide leg denim, and crop tops. And whatever else you can view through heavy smog. Someone programmed the fog machine high power to the detriment of the event. The smell of burning chemicals on the heating unit proves nauseating. Maybe it is best to wear masks. Like those arriving at the event by rideshare sporting nose and mouth coverings only to be quickly removed revealing glistening smiles as Louie Vega’s “Another Day In My Life” plays.
Minutes later – when someone brilliantly opens the exit doors to the patio where one can sign up for a dose of cancer from those huffing and puffing outdoors – the music time travels through a who’s who of popular hits and r & b royalty. Prince’s “I Wanna Be Your Lover” (Dimitri From Paris Re-Edit) signals bathroom time. Ah! The unisex stalls sparkle post pandemic clean.
Chaka Khan’s “I’m Every Woman” (The Reflex Revision) prides woman empowerment as Aretha Franklin’s “A Deeper Love” shout outs the Queer community before the progressive Milani’s “Don’t Take” (Club Mix) and Daniel Rateuke & AWEN’s “Gold” (Manoo Dubstrumental Remix) Afro pulse. NYC club anthems, Whitney Houston’s “Love Will Save the Day” (Jellybean & David Morales Remix) and Stevie Wonder’s “Another Star” (Maxi Extended Regroove Mean Fiddler Edit) appose Robert Owens singing “Can You Feel It (Vocal)” on the Fingers Inc. classic and Massive Sounds featuring Mutaburaka’s “The Poem.” The pipes of the late great Loleatta Holloway’s “Love Sensation” (Dimitri From Paris DJ Friendly Classic Re-Edit) blows open the plank ceiling above. Dancers sashay across concrete. Bros bop up and down. Ever impressive are twenty-somethings singing “And all I wanna say is thank you baby. Cause you’re right on time,” at the top of their lungs.
And right on time arrives Kerri Chandler’s “Bar A Thym.” From ground level, he is seen onstage. His left arm outstretched plays chords on his keyboard as his right arm reaches the mids on the mixer. Meanwhile, people go crazy, yelling, jumping, fist pumping, dancing and even running around in circles. The unbridled energy is unmatched thus far. Press record. Camera phones video the rare glimpse of a musical genius at work.
Listen to the atmospheric. Experience the psychedelic. Feel the symbols crashing on three counts. All sounds of fluidity and mellifluous vibes. Grab the groove. That groovy wobble of bass is hypnotic. The hissing of snares swings at 124 beats per minute of bliss. Spaced out drums of heavy thumps rattles speakers. The music dances. The drums as if wearing sneakers shuffle and side step like B-boys or B-girls. In dances jazzy, wind instruments, and brass ensembles providing classy interpretation. To take phat bass lines, percussions that sputter and when the drums drop kick, to play live keys of three chords or show-off rolling piano rifts is genius. Cadence calls. Where the music goes is deep yet polished, minimal yet musical, and gutter yet proper. Music made for after hours at dark warehouses of kaos. Where 6:23 is the signature tonality. Welcome to the house of Kerri Chandler.
“Let’s move to the back of the room,” suggests one dance partner to another.
“HALLELUJAH”
Look forward. Nope. Not in the center of the room. Yes, to the room’s right. See between the white painted picnic tables and the brickwork. Behold a majestic Capricornia of bodies swaying in syncopated cacophony. Unbridled energy is released. Feel the magnetic rush that pulls dancing feet to the fore. The action springs to life. Behold the dancer’s zone.
Where the young people are actually dancing. No, they do not stomp on cockroaches, that EDM shuffle shit. These youngsters freestyle. Their torsos jinga. Their ankles pivot. Their heels toe step.
“Hallelujah!” Sings a sampled Pastor Shirley Caesar on the Kings Street Sounds label release and everyone rightly agrees.
As the room’s energy scorches daylight diminishes. The house lights dim and a professional performance of purple and green LEDs play cat and mouse over crowns of braids whipping in the air and backwards ball caps bouncing about. When, “Haven’t You Heard?” Patrice Rushen whispers. Her airy vocal flutters over the Joey Negro now David Lee Edit Extended Disco Mix that segues from soul classics to the boogie on Don Armando’s 2nd Avenue Rhumba Band’s “Deputy of Love.”
Fonda Rae’s “Living In Ecstasy” surprises! Mood II Swing’s (Groove Mix) pulls the body to a hanging speaker cabinet. One dancer wearing a black fedora mouths and animates the lyrics through a solo dance performance. Sadly, Kerri stops the track at 4:40 before the atmospheric outro.
Again the body is pulled underneath hanging speaker cabinets on Aki Bergen featuring Carmen Sherry’s “Into My Soul.” One suggestion for the knockout venue is to upgrade the acoustics. Reading several patron reviews and recommendations online gives warning. The venue does not boast Alpha Dynacord or Dolby Atmos high quality. If so certain audiophiles would experience greater dynamics when the kick drum skips and the bass, pads, and tambourine drop at the one minute and two seconds mark on the Spiritchaser Remix.
Heard on Donna Allen’s “He is the Joy” (UBP Classic Mix) is the beating of claves in the distance. Only to learn later that night at an after party, a guy was actually playing the instruments live at the party. Also, shout-out to the woman playing the tambourine. Nice.
DJs, ever want to destroy a dance floor? Play Floorplan’s “Never Grow Old” and be amazed.
From techno to the minimal tappings on Leela James’ “My Joy.” The Quentin Harris Vocal pays tribute to NYC’s Shelter sound.
“He’s playing Shelter!” A dance partner yells and repeats, all smiles. Her slender frame spins and dips. Her waist drops, knees bent forward for a squat. Her hands speak vogue femme.
NYC garage classics continue with Abstract Truth’s featuring Monique Bingham’s “(We Had) A Thing (Matty’s Body & Soul Mix) that has a dancer weaving in out of people handclapping.
L.T.D.’s “Love to the World” (Joey Negro Mizell Magic Mix) unites the dance floor, both old school heads and new school heads. One dancer with impeccable balance kicks his right leg to make contact with a wooden column, instead landing his leg in cans and cups within a blue recycle bin. Oops.
Orchestrated strings arise to the heavens over a programmed “a-cha-cha” beat. The sampled string arrangement is immediately recognized as Pepe Bradock’s “Deep Burnt.” Reinterpreted as Trackheadz’s “Our Music.” The Kaje Original thumps before vocals sing over looped bars from Dennis Ferrer’s Remix of The Sunburst Band’s “Journey To the Sun.” The tech affair of beeps and bumps gives way to the famous bass line of Jaydee’s “Plastic Dreams” when one realizes the sound selector is blending three songs at once. He schools the babes.
Kerri Chandler
He sings. He plays the piano, the guitar, and even the xylophone. He writes his own songs. He is a wiz in the recording studio. A plethora of descriptors speaks to the testament of Kerri Chandler. Maestro, the Stevie Wonder of house music, a deep house disciple, an evangelist of Jersey garage, and etc. The East Orange born and bred Chandler is synonymous for Jersey garage as is his deep house brand. Chicago had the warehouse and NYC had the Paradise Garage. Both Gothams birthed their signature voice to the world – house and garage respectably. Where across the Hudson, NYC’s post-disco front was popularized at Newark’s Club Zanzibar. Pioneer Tony Humphries and later Evangelist Chandler would play to sold-out crowds at the Jersey venue. Their beats were created. Lyrics written. Instruments added. Vocalists crooned. Records recorded. Vinyl pressed. Labels distributed. The sound swelled. Beyond enclave, the music traveled to distant shores and became an international mainstay. Where Chandler plays more oft than he plays domestically these days. Which is why to catch him play live, face-to-face in more than a year is a no-brainer.
People Problem #2
“Yaaayyyy!!!” Loudly screams a group of boys and girls over the four-on-the-floor. Their budging eyes stare affixed on handheld screens while seated at one of the white painted picnic tables.
People. If you watch a football/soccer match on your phone and cheer at the top of your lungs at the game while a legendary DJ is playing music, stay home.
People. Also, if playing Candy Crush on a phone is more exciting than adding to the energy of the party, stay home.
Dancing is about making a connection with the music. A connection that is realized when Jazmina’s “Let the Rain Come Down” (Foremost Tears Remix) moves the body, mind, and soul. The Jersey Classic has mouths singing along with vocalist Robert Owens, “Dribble and droppin’ it, droppin’ and dripple it” leaving mouths dry and thirsty.
Time to hydrate.
Housed within the main hall are two bars. The larger bar in the rear of the venue has three well-formed lines of twenty people standing in each. That appears to move nowhere. Where the side bar to the room’s right is much less crowded. The best part of waiting in a dragging line is head bopping to Matrix’s “Get Out.” The Kerri Chandler Remix moves feet to step front-and-back/left-to-right all before the body completely dances in line before the shock.
“Twelve dollars. For two bottled waters.” The amiable bartender with black beard quotes. Damn! Post pandemic inflation bitch slaps wallets.
And that is not all. The pandemic pressed venues, DJs and revenues. Knockdown locked its doors for a lengthy fifteen months and chose not to reopen until events could hold full capacity and everyone could party safely, smart. This Independence Day holiday weekend marked the center’s official reopening weekend since the lockdown. If there was ever an event for the prestigious center to host, having Kerri Chandler grace the ones, twos, and threes with no opening DJ, playing from open to close, a total of seven hours is worthy of out-of-state plane rides to the borough for die-hard Chandlerites.
“RAIN”
The music stops, leaving the familiar rhythms of chords playing to permeate the soundsphere. The musically inclined know. They stand ready. The vocals drop. “Day by day and night by night. ” The System’s “You’re In My System” (Atmospheric Vocal Mix) excites. Garage heads go crazy. Thank you Kerri for playing the Atmopsheric Vocal Mix in full.
Again a familiar stirring of chords ignite the space. Awwww, hell. It is that time. The venue’s hall is transformed into a catwalk as two dancers sashay and one yell’s “Let’s goooooooo.”
“You know this party was supposed to take place outdoors but had to be moved indoors because of the rain.”
“So people ask what is “Rain” about? It is about two things.”
Kerri explains to the crowd before he launches into singing live, “All I wanna do is love you, rain.”
“Bada, da, da, da.” Kerri sings. Then holding the microphone towards the sea of faces.
“Bada, da, da, da.” The faces sing in return.
Kerri continues his call and response. The crowd eats every morsel he throws at em’. Everyone singing, “Zee, bee, dee, bah, bah.”
“This has to be one of my favorite projects,” The maestro acknowledges.
When his index finger presses play, the drum kicks, and that bass line explodes, witness the genius that is Kerri Chandler.
Yo, if playing the most important song of the party “Rain” was not enough, the Madhouse Records founder digs deep and unleashes hidden gems. Ben Watt & Sananda Maitreya’s (Terrance Trent D’Arby) “A Stronger Man,” the year 2004 classic is the song you thought you would never dance to again, Armand Van Helden featuring Duane Harden’s “You Don’t Know Me” denouncing judgmental prejudice wins approval while Masters at Work featuring India’s “I Can’t Get No Sleep” sounds at home on the dance floor today, as it did close to thirty years ago, and Earth People’s “Dance,” (Kerri Chandler Centro Fly-Jerome Sydenham Special Edit) keeps people from leaving the party.
Although the clock reads after 10 pm, “We are going to keep the music playing until the end. Thank you for coming out tonight.” Kerri announces to the party people who are left able to dance, stand, and, uh-hum, stay awake. Unlike the smashed guy seated, passed out, head falling to the right, about to fall off the bench. On two separate occasions, two different employees wake him. They try to reason with him. Their efforts fail.
Kerri’s favorite anthem Sounds of Blackness “Optimistic,” now reworked by Bobby D’Ambrosio and Brian Tappert featuring Kelli Sae on vocals plays closing duties. Speeding by is one man, his arms flailing in the air and his fist pumping seated in a wheelchair. His friend pushes him across the room towards the exit. The two are all smiles. One word sums the experience. Beautiful. Truly life is beautiful having experienced a royal celebration with the King of Kaos.
wrds: aj dance
visual: aj art
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Tags: #dancefloormagic #housemusicexcellence, dance, dance music, deep house music, garage music, house music, Independence Day Weekend 2021, Jersey garage music, Kerri Chandler, Knockdown Center, New York City, NY, NYC, NYC garage music, NYC house music, Queens