MASTER KEV
There are a lot of people here! (pause) Not dancing.
Seven years earlier a gift enriched this magnificent metropolis. At a time when many soulful/deep house music gatherings danced on the edge of extinction one man stepped out from the ashes to heed the call. His name Ramon, his moniker Rawsoul, his vision The Gathering, hit the city’s underground soulful house community with a much-needed punch. Naysayers and haters were wary; the dedication to helm a party, in the city too busy partying to even care, was no small feat. The Gathering weathered storms. Gone its former abodes; the warehouse, a studio, a coffee shop, and a restaurant’s basement all traded for the cozy confides of a restaurant’s Space2. Successfully, since conception the party has hosted a wide spectrum of DJs plus cultivated a family atmosphere of house music lovers. Over the course of time, one essential element remains intact, The Gathering is love.
Nestled within the walls of Space2, at The Gathering’s seven year bash, the love in the air spells w-e-l-c-o-m-e. Warmth radiates from family faces collecting dollars at the door. However, out of concern, a word of encouragement is uttered. A further walk into the venue unfolds a curious manifest.
Their accents speak louder than words. His southern drawl from Music City USA and hers the thick throat finesse from France. Furry vests paired with ties dot the room. A bare mid-drift walks by. Despite the outdoor’s temperature reading thirty-six degrees, indoors the temperature hovers at seventy-five degrees. Heat blasts on those gathered. One kid dances in between and out of the dense throngs of hot flesh. His drunken behavior is such that he bursts several party balloons-that decorate the premises-for what must be some form of amusement. Bartender, no more PBR’s for this fella. Despite the shenanigans the party is at a standstill-much like bumper-to-bumper traffic on 285.
However, there is no stalled hooptie or no twenty car pile-up. Just a bunch of bodies parked on the dance floor. In semi-circle fashion, like at a drive-in theater except “Everyone’s Favorite Photographer” John Croom’s visuals from the Gathering’s past seven years provides the entertainment.
Piano keys play staccato style that run amuck, orchestrated strings twirl to climatic heights, as a warm melody approaches. Anyone for Lil’ Louis,’ “Fable?” (Denise). No one answers. No one moves. Hometown hero Kai Alce tirelessly works the musical dashboard to deaf ears. Eyes of every shade of hue stare expressionless, as if hypnotized, at the slideshow splattered on the unfinished plastered wall. Folks this ain’t no Peven Everett concert. Next, the NDATL headphone wearer tries to make the audience feel “special.” Fail. All eyes continue their obsessive loyalty to the wall of holes. Must be the crowd is stuck in neutral. Kai slams the brakes, jams the musical gear shift into reverse, and heads into classic house territory. No one cares. The dumbfounded stares continue. The slideshow repeats for the umpteenth time. C’mon. Really?.? Can the Scottish duo the Nightcrawlers’ “Push The Feeling On” (MK Club Mix) save the party? Perhaps. Slowly, a handful of feet shuffle. The zombie like trance might wear off. Maybe signs of life on the floor will show. Season soul sensation Donnie’s “Olmec Save Us” (Yoruba Soul) into the mix and bam!!! The party is off to a late start.
After midnight, DJ turned Chef Sir Thomas honors The Gathering with a vanilla icing chocolate cake.
“Happy Anniversary To You, Happy Anniversary To You, Happy Anniversary To The Gathering, Happy Anniversary To You.” The crowd should sing. But they don’t.
Suddenly a figure wearing a checkered cap, dressed in a blue tee, and blue denim appears onstage. The crowd grows silent and rushes to the front of the DJ stage. The figure alongside Ramon Rawsoul and Kai Alce inspects the DJ equipment. Two Pioneer CD players. Check. One Technics 1200 turntable. Check. A state-of-the-art mixer. Check. The figure’s hand steadily plugs a USB into the left Pioneer’s port. This action confirms all systems ago. The dashboard’s control panel comes to life. The time is nigh.
The figure needs no introduction. He’s the DJ’s DJ. West Coast house music pioneer, Marques Wyatt dubbed him “the brutha from another mutha.” The DJ/producer/remixer is constantly name checked on linear notes. He is a NYC night-life legend. He is Master Kev.
The speed limit reads 125 BPMs. Pistons hum. The party’s throttle kicks into high gear. Monotonous chords that wallop against 808s come to a screeching halt. An understated drum kick starts. Vocals whisper “Piano In The Dark.” This is Nick Curly’s haunting groove remixed by the Yoruba Soul purists. Oddly, DJ Master Kev plays the opening number at safe speeds of 120 BPMs. Shifting into 3rd gear, Jill Scott’s “Crown Royal” (Timmy Regisford & Quentin Harris) heavy bass line blasts onto the soundscape. Surprise! Don’t expect to sing “Crown Royal on Ice.” This is the instrumental. One dancer yells, “More vocals. More vocals.” Her wish is Master Kev’s command. Instead of Jilly from Philly singing, her contemporary, the late Luther Vandross sings one of his classics over the T&Q treatment. It’s a two-for-one creation, the mashups, that DJ Master Kev is widely known to unleash and wreck havoc on crowds. Vocals courtesy of Honeycomb’s Josh Milan produced by Japanese house head Namy’s “From Now On” rides over a dirty house beat that pumps at higher speeds. The premier of hometown wunderkind Salah Ananse with newcomer Paul Vincent on vocals “Toxic” (Salah Ananse Afrique Electrique Dub) shifts the room into a feverish fit not registered prior that night. The dancers summon the ancestors as they writhe on the floor. Homage to producers in the house continues with DJ Roland Clark’s spoken words on DJ Le Roi’s “I Get Deep,” that stutters with tremolos and splits the room in two like a diced atom. Music from South Africa’s Ralf Gum and Monique Bingham’s “Take Me to My Love” drops and explodes. Ms. Biggah Bingham’s vocals are whipped into a dizzying swirl that has the dancers dance on and on and on and on but they never catch up. Perhaps, Master Kev tries too hard with Fleetwood Mac’s “Dreams.” The DJ drops the music to let Stevie Nicks and the crowd sing: “Thunder Happens Only When It’s Raining.” Only, no one sings along. The classic plays way too long and never catches on. Oh well, maybe next time. Rufus and Chaka Kahn show up in the mix with “Any Love” over techie vrooms. Master Kev saves the best for last with folk guitars strumming underneath African vocals sung in native tongue.
Already the digital clock reads 2:30 pm. The Gathering’s founder, Ramon Rawsoul, appears onstage ready to control the vessel’s music. Master Kev appears relentless to surrender. Indeed MK does slay the room with some vocal/folk funk that is rare in these parts. Appropriately, Ramon Rawsoul is the man of honor who best serves to close out his party. So, the sweater & tie DJ takes the rein, adds a 4/4 count, and increases the BPMs. He drives the music to Africa where handclaps and afro-chants dance with subtle tech. South Africa’s Zakes Bantwini’s “Wasting My Time” (Rocco Dance Floor Mix) wastes no time slaying the dancers left on the floor. The song’s razor-sharp synths crescendo to spill blood on the dance floor. Music worlds collide on Usher’s “Climax” remixed by Jo’burg’s G’Sparks Spilulu. The late Nkemdilin “Kemdi” Amadiume sings on Handcrafted Soul’s “I’m Still A Dancer” to the handful of dancers left on the dance floor. Sadly, the show must end before Byron Moore completes “Life Starts Today.” Three am arrives; its closing time.
Great times were had with Master Kev as camera’s flashed and gratitude was exchanged. The Gathering was a phenomenal success. Well attended and well executed. The experience ranked up there on the party’s top five. Hopefully, next time, there is more dance space and less obstructions. DJ K Mixx’s (welcome back) subwoofers sat in a funky space, right front and center the DJ booth, not allowing those that prefer to worship at the alter to do so. Also, here is to smoother concrete with no craters. The dance floor had more potholes than a downtown street after a harsh winter. Attorney Ken Nugent would say, “One fall, that’s all.”
In the words of Ramon Rawsoul, “Other parties are like mega churches everyone goes there. But The Gathering is like the small church you grew up in. It’s family.” The Gathering is that and more. The place you call home. The place you go back to when you need the real deal. The place you go to feel the love.
Cheers to The Gathering’s next seven years.
Words and photography by AJ Dance
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Tags: Atlanta Georgia, deep house music, house music, Kai Alce, Master Kev, Ramon Rawsoul, The Gathering