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.
When darkness is fully realized and the moon is only left to guide you.The humidity registering at 65% sticks to your shirt.Ewww.A truck is parked the wrong way on a one-way alley street.The driver, a woman is passed out at the steering wheel.Across the street is a lanky man perchedon the sidewalk.… Continue
Twelve hours and a near two hour flight later, you stare in the face of adversity.The soles of your Balenciaga sneakers treading on gravel makes that crunching sound.While walking?Yes, walking.And walking a fair distance too.That’s sad.Today’s soulful house music’s target audience is age fifty plus.People would be upset seeing their mother or grandmother footing several kilometers to a music festival.… Continue
A Wet Dream, A Prescription, A Block Party Part 1 15.05.22 Indigenous House
Years ago, forefather Tony Humphries told the press, Baltimore house music was underrated. The legend then went on to compare if the music coming out of Baltimore came out of NYC, the Baltimore sound would be more highly regarded. Years later, this sentiment rings true. Just look around.… Continue
A Wet Dream, A Prescription, A Block Party Part II
15.05.22
Indigenous House Interlude
Someone give Tori Cooper her flowers. Give em’ to her now. Who better to serenade the annual honorable individual of Indigenous House than Candy J? She is Sweet Pu$$y Pauline to you. The original Queen B is in the house. Talking. Her raspy “Oooohhh” and “Chyle” with that Detroit drawl, is instantly recognizable.… Continue
His shirtless majesty showcasing chiseled pectorals is in beast mode. Playing heavy four-count thumps that erupts from giant black cabinets. And dancing in front of those speakers will cause hearing loss for days to come. “You’ve waited all week to dance,” proclaims a diva loudly rapping over a beat that slaps. Standing on the pavilion’s ledge is one man who leans into the ear of another and speaks, “More like [we waited] a year.”… Continue