What a great night! I will pull the strings of memories out of my head and try to convey the energy and vibe going on at Re-bar last Friday night for Produkt’s eleventh installment of Analog: Everything But the Kitchen Sink. I tend to not review the really good parties because I dance my ass off and pretty much just go into a DJ-induced trance and live in the energy of the dance floor. I lose track of everything around except the DJ and the beats, and a slap-happy gang of purple monkeys could run in behind me and go berserk and I would not notice. This is why there is no BreakBeatBuddha or Glitch Mob reviews, and I am a few days late on this one but I know you want it, so here it goes:

I was really looking forward to the night of breaks, dubstep, minimal techno and a little crazy rat bastard shit thrown in; the lineup was tight and the word was out. Analog has been getting better and better every month; May’s I Like Orange and Techno night was a freaky fun orange-a-thon complete with naked chicks, flying beer bottles, and a guy in his underwear jumping on the decks. 

But the theme for Analog XI was not citrus-laced hoohah; no, the mood was dark and dirty on the dance floor, starting out with the Milkman’s wobbly grime-laden dubstep. The beautiful Produkt dancers were all in black, a nice complement to the atmosphere. Asifa showed up in a big blond wig, and I didn’t even recognize her for about half an hour even though she was dancing right in front of me. By the time Noisemaker and Naha came on for their two-hour set, the scene was straight gritty and ready for some filthy bass, which the two poured over the crowd like a midnight waterfall. At some point an actual kitchen sink was paraded in, much to my delight (mad props for the sinkage to NickyJee, yet another of my bad-ass-up-and-coming DJ friends). Noisemaker effing kills it and the dance floor absolutely loves him; Naha threw down as well with the redonkulous rock star MC Anton Bomb doing his thing over the beats- the best that I had ever seen him.

So this is about where I put on my dance-trance-pants, so you are not going to get a lot of specifics on tracks or what-have-you. Rest assured it was a “YEAH” night for me- on the dance floor often all I can say is “YEAH” or “MORE”. It was “YEAH” all night long. After the crazy bass set, DJ Goner hit it thick like always with his wicked brand of minimal techno. GONER ROCKS. It was also my pleasure to hear him a little later in the weekend for several more hours, and I must inform you that Goner will be taking the Seattle techno scene by storm. He kills, always; he is as intense as his music which HELL! gets you moving. On Friday night the Night Train (Seattle superstar extraordinaire) played some mad harmonica over the deep techno beats. Think harmonicas belong on the range at home with the buffalos? Well then, you need to come out more. The Night Train always gives a twisted take over the electronic music, and with a smile no less.

So it should have been the end of the night, 2AM, last call and all, but wait- we were in for a exclusive appearance as Schlage hit the decks and the bar decided to stay open until 3AM. I really really love Re-bar; it is a dancing club FIRST with a giant floor and the crowd always comes to get down, which is a nice change from the usual Pioneer Square drivel. And to end the night in the sickest fashion, Noisemaker jumped back on the decks and fed us a little more sticky bass, of which we can never get enough. After closing down my fourth dance floor of the week, I went straight home to bed. That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.

What makes the Analog parties so consistently ON are the people who come out: the Produkt family always supports their people like mad, and those cats party like it’s the eve of the Armageddon. The dark and bass-thick music gave the dance floor what we wanted, and Analog XI was the best one yet.

This month is Analog XII: Meeting of the Minds (July 25th) where the big boys of four Seattle music collectives will be throwing down to another dance floor full of crazy dancing girls and boys. Jisaan, Ramiro, Mikey Tello, Michael Manahan and J-Sun will be out REPRESENTIN’ their respective crews and you can come out assured the night will go off with deep-house, tech-house, techno, and God only knows what else.

OK everybody- It is HOT, it is a HOLIDAY WEEKEND, and everyone will be out celebrating like fools that we live in an awesome, free country where the right to the pursuit of happiness is one of our nation’s founding principles. So do your civic duty and GET OUT THERE, GET INTO IT, and pursue your happiness, kids, unless he has a girlfriend. Don’t know what to do this weekend? Confused by all the choices? Go where I’m going- ‘cuz that’s always where the party’s at.

Like drum and bass? Tonight (Wednesday) at Pulse at Trinity there is a cherry-sweet lineup with no cover: DJs Jason Curtis, Aaron Simpson, The Dowlz, The Dub What, Contents, and Sonic MC will be giving you all the DRUM AND BASS! DRUM AND BASS! that you could ever want. Brad will be pourin’ ‘em strong.

Like minimal techno? BONKERS goes off this Thursday July 3 at Re-bar; you know you don’t have to work the next day so come out and get crazy with the techno-heads. With the deep, dark, penetrating, throbbing, beats you can’t go wrong. Ever.

Like art and music and want to go to the best party of the weekend? Want to see Noisemaker along with about 5 billion other mad DJs like PrEssHa, Theory, Von Dewey, Ben Shelton, Jisaan, Lovevirus, and B.Fly? See you Saturday night at the Columbia City Theatre for the much-antici…pated Collective Art Project. You will dance your pretty little face off- and oh yeah, there will be art and handmade clothes and HOLOGRAMS to buy, so bring cash.

Like freakish experimental nerdy brain-beat music from the future? Want to catch a glimpse into the evolutionary course of electronic music? Matmos hits the Triple Door on Monday July 7.

Like dubstep? Of course you do, you stoner. UK MASTER of dubstep Kode9 is at Chop Suey Tuesday July 8. Kid Hops and Struggle will be getting the party started; if you are a bass slut, your presence is required. We will be taking names.

Signing off,

DF5K.

If you would like to post this on your myspace profile or blog, please post the link back to this page rather than copy-and-pasting it. That will make Shilo smile.

If you would like to post a comment, please do so below.

If you enjoyed my review and would like to buy me a drink this weekend, that would be a vodka and soda with a lime.

HAPPY 4TH OF JULY!

Two hours east of Seattle this weekend a mountain of energy was created deep in the woods, far away from civilization, far away from everything except what really matters. Photosynthesis 1.0, presented by Collective Flow, brought together old friends and new, a stupid number of local DJs that we all know and love, along with a copious amount of hula-hooping, fire-twirling, bubbles in the breeze, giggling children, hours and hours of music and dancing, silly dogs, a deep indigo sky bursting with stars and framed by evergreens, legions of mimosas, body paint galore, and a naked guy. Now this was a party. Up on top of the ridge it was sunny and warm in the day, windy and cold as hell at night. I arrived in a sheer sundress and hours later had on not one but two pair of wool socks, June be damned, living the wisdom that there is no bad weather, only inappropriate clothing. Good thing I brought some.

Beats, beeps, scratches, and whomps found a temporary home in the forest and were sent out into the trees from three stages. The combination of the great outdoors and electronic music generates an incredible sense of enchantment; what should be an odd match of opposites instead creates an all-encompassing feeling of happiness, of wholeness, of everything being right in the world. I pitched my tent by the Main Stage, the Nama Stage, which gave me easy access to the art dome, the big heart-shaped campfire, and to the festival kitchen to whom I must give mad, mad props. A huge amount of time and effort went into the food preparation; nobody at the festival went hungry because heaps of people worked very hard to make sure of it. Every time I passed by the kitchen there was a flipping buffet of healthy food, made with love. Pho the first night, then veggie gumbo, a van-load of tamales, A ROAST PIG, fresh fruit, homemade breakfast muffins; everything I tried was absolutely fantastic. Mad, mad, props to the Sweet Peeps kitchen for their hard work and delicious chow.

The Main Stage rocked consistently for two nights with sick DJs from all over the Pacific Northwest. Novatron laid it down in the middle of the dance floor, his dog Ziggy running around like an idiot and the rest of us shaking our souls and asses for the artist. I never ever miss one of Novatron’s live sets, he is a master. My favorite player of the festival though (do I have to say it?) was the brilliantly original Noisemaker who played two random time slots around 5AM and 5PM. Come on now yall, this DJ belongs in the middle of the fire and frenzy and madness of the night. That is his home. Noisemaker had the freshest and most unique sets of the party; I really loved watching people stroll up who had never before heard his brand of crunk. They first look a little confused by the frog noises and Big Band music, then they start smiling, and then they start dancing. Curious DJs wandered up to check out his set as well, and one of my friends laid out the reason he loves Noisemaker: “It’s just like, ‘I’m Noisemaker. I’ll do what I want. I spin Britney Spears, bitch, and you’re gonna love it and you’re going to dance.” And dance we did.

The second stage out in the woods was Vex Village, where I spent the least amount of time, though I did catch the unbelievable KJ Sawka set on Friday night; could he possibly be a more bad-ass drummer? No. He couldn’t. And do the ladies love him or what! “Blah blah blah I love Kevin Sawka” is all I heard that night. I was also lucky to catch Von Dewey on the second stage as well who laid down quite a fat set of beats for the crowd.

The three stages were a nice walk apart from each other, but traveling the cold path between them birthed ample opportunities for random social encounters. I love being a nomad, wondering around in the dark woods by myself (sorry Mom), meeting strangers and strange friends in the night. On the liminal path, that dirt space between worlds and stages and social circles, anything can happen- there are no rules.

My favorite home of Photosynthesis 1.0 was the rock-strewn dance floor of the third stage, the Orca Sound Lab. When I came upon the area the first evening, it was nothing but three speakers on the grass by some trees. The following day however the wooded area was transformed into a sacred circle of dance. The beats started out strong there Saturday afternoon with Awggie and the Mendicants, and then HOLY FREAKING TECHNO! Can I say it again? HOLY FREAKING TECHNO.

What had been just three speakers in the forest became a temple of unrelenting beats that continued deep and deeper into the night as one DJ after another ripped it in half, a blazing lineup that spiraled through the forest into a incessant explosion, a rampage, a frenzy. The stage was on fire the whole night; this is the reason I don’t mention any of the headliners of the festival in my review. I was possessed by the techno. Nordic Soul ignited the madness with quite the ridiculous set; he cannot hide the fact that he thoroughly enjoys what he does to the dance floor as much as we do. I am in love with this DJ. The techno continued its unabated aural penetration as the evening continued; the one-hour sets went quickly and we were treated to a succession of gifted electronic artists. Manos was laying down straight crazy, dubby shit; Panty Control, Milkplant, Brian S., Jesse, and to all the DJs that night who I met and can’t remember your name, you guys destroyed us there in the middle of the forest. The sloped and rocky dance floor did not stop the party from giving it up to the Dance.

I danced in the forest all night and into the morning, not a creature of my own volition but a slave to the music. The beats go inside of my body and move it for me, I have no choice in the matter. The incongruent blend of electronic music and campfires puts something in your soul that cannot be explained, it can only be felt. And can I shout out to the DJs who dance? I absolutely love to see you guys on the floor getting down. I love it. I nourish myself with the symbiotic relationship between the DJ and the dancers and the energy it creates. Music changed my life, music saved my life, music is my life. There is no one in existence who can say that music has not contributed positively to their world, and most of you probably even agree with my three hippie-face declarations above.

However at any festival or party there always seems to be one DJ who completely destroys the dance floor and whose name is on everyone’s hungover lips the next morning around campfires and smoke circles. At Photosynthesis 1.0 it was Ctrl_Alt_Del. This boy absolutely rocked the minds and bodies of everyone who heard his set late Saturday night, his own as well if I am not mistaken. I don’t know crack about minimal techno, but my body does. I feel the energy trapped in the pulsing beats, the intense throbbing that stays just below the surface, rising and falling and threatening to bubble uncontrollably to the top of our minds. Ctrl_Alt_Del kept us on that threshold; speaking to our subconscious desires and the nethermost chasms of our very beings with the pulsing undercurrent. Techno rouses the ID, the animal inside of us all who just wants to grab the person dancing next to us and run off into the woods naked and screaming, social-circle cohesion be damned. Ctrl_Alt_Del woke up this beast on his dance floor, and short of going raving mad and frothing at the mouth and howling at the moon, we danced. We danced all night in the woods like our ancestors did for hundreds of thousands of years, warming ourselves with the fire and our feet.

Which, of course, is why we go to festivals; to dance on the earth with bare feet, to experience the feeling of walking up on a campfire encircled by strangers in the middle of the night, to see children playing free in the forest, to wear feathers in our hair, to walk paths drenched in falling light alone. Time returns to it’s true and undefined nature and exists only as a DJ lineup. For a few days, we commune with the earth and each other as humans have done long, long before the time of texting and Myspace and traffic. We share food, and water, and energy, and life. The weekend was almost perfect.

Sunday morning I woke up and found out that a boy had died. His name was Shawn-e. I met him the night before, he was fishing for ravers with a pole and a glow stick. He caught one; it was me. We said our hellos-my-name-is and went along our separate ways in the dark forest. I really wish I could leave this out, that I could skip this unpleasant part of my annoyingly positive review, that I could keep the weekend lingering in your minds as singularly and wickedly beautiful. But I can’t. That morning as I sat at a friend’s campsite with a circle of strangers sharing a bottle of warm Champagne, a sound met our ears, the echoes of a girl weeping in the woods. The small circle of humans froze. Our eyes locked; we were strangers bound together by the sound of the absolute despair of one of our own. Once again this weekend we were reminded that we are all connected. We all live together and we will all die.

But you are alive, right now, reading this. So guess what? You have to live for Shawn-e now. All of you. You have to dance a little harder, you have to sing a little louder, you have to live a little more. You have to devour every new experience that presents itself to you and is good. You have to suck out the marrow of life just a little more now, not just for Shawn-e but for all of your friends who drop away from this world. Add Shawn-e to the long list of reasons why you refuse to have anything but an absolutely incredible life, rich with experience and human connections. My heart aches for the friends and family who knew Shawn-e well; know that I met him but a few tiny moments on this earth and in that brief encounter, he made me smile and laugh.

The music was turned off, the campers slowly left, and the energy dissipated, carried away bit by bit in each of us to be dispersed around the Pacific Northwest. I packed up the car and went to pay my respects to the dance floors, finding once again that the third stage was just a few speakers sitting in the middle of the woods. The only evidence of the party mania and techno fever the night before was a charred campfire and grass stomped away by dancing feet. Ashes to ashes. I made a huge trash sweep over the forest campground and found only one gum wrapper on the grounds; this place had been well-loved and taken care of. I walked away from Photosynthesis 1.0 filled up, with renewed inspiration to live every single day as fully as I possibly can.

Heading home over a rock path with a few wrong turns and a late lunch at random cafe #3 in Cle Elum (complete with deer chandeliers and a bear skin rug on the wall), my carload was salivating for more electronic music. Seriously. Drool was dripping off our chins. Thankfully I had a downloaded CD of Ctrl_Alt_Del in my car- however it only plays when my navigator has not jammed a second disc into my car’s stereo system. Alas, for the two-hour ride home, we were stuck in radio hell, which is no mild exaggeration after a weekend of such mind-melting music; going back to Top 40 was pure aural torture. I have a bad habit of screaming at DJs to drop the beat when they hold out too long, which is what I was yelling at my radio by the time we reached North Bend. Jazzy-F Lips on KE-whatever didn’t seem to hear me, but somehow I made it back to my favorite home-of-the-moment, Seattle.

I am satiated with positive energy from this weekend. Thank you, thank you, thank you, to everyone who shared this time in the woods with me, every single one of you: the people who worked hard to give us a party, the new friends I made, the people whose names I’ve already forgotten, the ones of you I didn’t get to meet and the one of you who will not dance again. To the girl in the woods, I wept with you. Thank you for sharing your energy, all of you, and in exchange I give you my words and will share my filled-up spirit to everyone I meet.

Damn I sound like a hippie.

So what is this techno music I keep going on about? Pulsing? The ID? The undercurrents of penetrating electronic beats that moves your body and fills up your head and will not goes away? Find out this Tuesday at Vito’s when Oi Vay gets MADE: Struggle, DJ Eddie, and Jeromino will be spinning a lovely evening of techno in an Italian mobster cafe; come out and dance and live a bit more than your normal weekday night. Who knows? It just might change your life.

If you would like to comment on Photosynthesis 1.0, or my review, or on some of the amazing DJ sets I missed because there are not two of me, please comment below. I would love it.

Click here to read more of my show reviews; click here to read all of my random blog posts.

When the Seattle music community gets all excited about how the City Noise Ordinance will destroy the local music scene, they are forgetting one thing. The Seattle music scene has a long history of being underground. One could argue that’s what gives the scene it’s passion - the fact that very few outside of its own ranks support, or even acknowledge it.

I’m not saying that club owners and musicians shouldn’t be up in arms about the city trying to regulate and arguably shut down selective night spots. My opinions on such matters are definitely the opposite. It angers me greatly that the state liquor board and city government seem to coordinate to target specific venues. It’s very unfortunate that in a town known for it’s music scene, the city doesn’t support it, or even consider it worthy of the heaps of dollars it spends on supporting the symphony, art gallery, ballet and opera.

To put the icing on the cake, the City Counsel seems to be completely incapable of separating the local live music clubs, which rarely have incidents of violence, from the meat markets that often generate such events. Furthermore, the city regulators seem to be handing out building permits for condos in neighborhoods like Capitol Hill, Fremont and Ballard, where they obviously come in conflict with tax-paying venue owners who have been established in those neighborhoods for fifteen years or more. Can anyone say “gentrification”.

Regardless of all this, it is a false statement to say that these circumstances will kill the Seattle music scene, as many of scene’s advocates have. Seattle music has survived despite such threats for its entire existence. The most heinous of these efforts, the Teen Dance Ordinance, was put into effect with the music community saying that it would crush their ability to generate revenue. Yet today, twenty-three years after it was put into effect and six years after it was repealed, the local scene is still thriving. In fact the ordinance was in place during the grunge years, which many would consider the heyday of Seattle music.

I suggest that the DIY attitude that is predominant in Seattle’s music scene will remain in spite of these obstacles. It’s in our blood, at the core of the hearts of Sub Pop, Barsuk, Broken Time, Origin, Kill Rock Stars and many, many more. Musicians, promoters, record labels and scenesters will continue to make something from nothing, not just in Seattle but in Olympia, Bellingham and Portland as well.

Every night shows go down in the most unlikely of places… illegal after-hours clubs, coffeehouses, independent art galleries, farmers markets and loft parties. Clubs like the infamous Vogue, Comet Tavern, Blue Moon, Gibson’s and Speakeasy Cafe’ operated for many years without live music. Yet the supportive owners of the venues opened their doors to musicians and promoters in order to keep the scene alive, often making themselves targets for the city government in the process.

Every weekend in Seattle, hundreds of music artists perform in coffeehouses like Hotwire in Shoreline, C&P in West Seattle, El Diablo in Queen Anne and World Cup in the Ravenna neighborhood. Music is not an integral part of these businesses, yet they support the scene anyway. Promoters will continue rent out the stage at the Rendezvous, promote nights at Faire Gallery, Honey Hole, Mars Bar or Mr. Spot’s Chai House, and insert live music into gallery openings and pubs of all shapes and sizes.

We can’t help it. We will not be stifled. No amount of city ordinances, liquor board crack downs and neighborhood complaints will dissuade us. Just a few years ago a complete concert series was held in the cargo space of a dilapidated seventy year-old ferry moored in Lake Union. In fact, I’m sketching the outline for this blog post after watching a friend’s band perform in a bowling alley in South Seattle. Tomorrow night I’m going to see a show in the storage room of brewery. We will not be put down.

CultureMob.com likes to cover unusual events like pillow fights and power tool races, so how about a fashion show that promises to plunge into the world of Seattle fashion, oxymoron which that might be?

The Fashion Group International and Seattle Pacific University’s Fashion Group have joined together for Gas Masks, Stilettos, and Designer Jeans: A Story of Fashion and Our Lives. This fundraising event, taking place Saturday May 31 at 6PM, will take a look at the role that fashion plays in each of our lives along with music, food, shopping, and raffle prizes. Culturally determined and identity confirming, the clothes we wear are much more than the sum of their threads. 

Gas Masks, Stilettos, and Designer Jeans will illuminate the role that fashion plays in our lives through four themes: fashion as military power and oppression, fashion as environment, fashion as religion, and fashion as social justice. Put on by a zealous group of student fashionistas, this event will surely raise more questions than it answers- but questions are more fun anyway, right?

I have never owned a pair of designer jeans and the only gas mask experience I’ve had was certainly not of the chemical warfare variety, but I am guilty (as my feet attest) of subjecting myself to the torture device that are stilettos. I am not sure how exactly fashion can be social justice- but this is exactly why I should hit up this event, held at Seattle Pacific University.

Find out all the information about Gas Masks, Stilettos, and Designer Jeans here.

My favorite bar in Seattle is closing down, and I am heartbroken. I think I need a drink.

For months now I have heard rumor after rumor of the Seamonster Lounge’s inevitable demise; I knew it was only a matter of time as the location has been for sale since last year. I followed each declaration of the bar’s closure that I heard with a slow roll down 45th in Wallingford to ascertain that the bar was indeed still open. Alas, it is now confirmed: the best bar in Seattle is closing. When the Seamonster ends its run at the end of May to be converted into a restaurant, the neighborhood will have lost something special. Where will we go now? The belongs-in-Belltown overt fake chi-chiness that is Babalu? Goldies, frat-boy heaven of a sports bar complete with trivia night and video gambling? Murphy’s Irish Pub, a lame hangout which I’ve been in three times but for some reason can only remember the screaming? The Pelican, wicker palace of fried food whose decor was inspired by your crazy grandmother’s back porch?

No, nothing can replace the Seamonster. We loved it. 

I will miss the Seamonster terribly, and not for the elongated, fair-skinned mermaid swimming along the wall or her bright red hair swirling around next to her. Not because of the cushy make-out swing in the back of the bar or the strands of blue and green Christmas lights that provided all the atmosphere the small spot needed or wanted. I am not crying in my beer because of the tiny dance floor where I smacked more than one bass guitarist with my flailing arms, or because of tassle-tinged Tuesday burlesque nights where the best part was not the T & A but the look of pleasant surprise on the faces of strangers who had just walked in to see a girl wearing a gold fan and high heels. It isn’t because of the smell of Dick’s hamburgers wafting up the street as you bummed a smoke outside, the benches on either side of the front door, or the proximity of the Seamonster to my home, a.k.a: stumbling distance. It isn’t because of the little fake fireplace with orange and red tinsel inside the door which somehow always felt warm, or the strong drinks I rarely paid for, or Purple Friday and the strains of Strawberry Beret filling the whole dark space. I am not distressed because my girl gang, The Crimson Rose, no longer has a home base for our shady activities which include dressing up in pink vinyl pants and dancing like maniacs; I am not distraught because I will miss the intimate live music performance space where I got to jam to the Boogielistics, the Drunken Masters, the Nepotistas, Haiku-Chi, and so many more skillful local musicians.

No, the reason that the Seamonster was so special and that many will will mourn it’s passage is simple and singular: Andrew.

Andrew is the owner, the manager, the bartender, the late-night talker, a funny guy and party boy, hat-wearer and giver of many-a free tequila shot, damn good-looking and the talented funkadelic singer who is leaving behind the glamorous life of the Seamonster Lounge to pursue his musical future with his band, Haiku-Chi. Andrew is the spirit of the Seamonster, the creator and purveyor of the good vibes that brought wanderers in off the street and had them coming back again and again.

Energy cannot be destroyed, however, and the party will follow Andrew and Haiku-Chi as they continue funking up the Seattle soul scene and spreading the love. Visit CultureMob.com for information on Haiku-Chi’s upcoming performances, and stop by the Seamonster before the end of May to pay your respects to Andrew and the best bar in Seattle and have a drink. And as Andrew would say, “Cheers, bitches.”

Cheers, indeed, and R.I.P. Seamonster. This is what it sounds like when doves cry.

I wish I could write a review of Atmosphere’s performance at the Showbox SoDo last night, but I can’t. I never saw the show, because I was thrown out due to a case of mistaken identity. For real.

Let me ’splain:

I had been trying to get a ticket to the sold-out show for about a week and a half, with no luck. Then the night before a friend texted me that he had an extra ticket to Atmosphere, and did I want to go? My reply was two words, and the second one was ‘YES’. I had never seen Atmosphere before and was excited as I had heard great things about their live shows, and I love the Showbox SoDo’s warehousey feel.

The crowd out on the warm Tuesday evening for the much-hailed hip-hop duo from Minnesota was dense and all-ages, with a bit more mad-dogging and less open smiles than I am used to in my usual electronic music crowd. If you like rap though, last night the Showbox SoDo was the place to be, and I was stoked to be swirling around in the mix.

Arriving late, of course, I had missed the first act and Abstract Rude was up on stage laying down rhymes and steadily working up the crowd in front of a big banner proclaiming, “When life gives you lemons, you paint Seattle gold.” 

I watched all this with my friends and our beers, caged off like the animals we are in the drinker’s section. When Abstract Rude finished up we all headed outside to check out one of my friend’s new pimp van, actually, the pimpest van EVER in the history of the universe and sweetest ride you ever saw, with running lights, a drink table and DOUBLE privacy shades. Straight pimp, straight up and down, like six o’clock.

After the fresh air/smoke break we headed back inside; Atmosphere was about to go on! Stamps on the wrists we walked up to the entrance, but the bouncer took one look at me, flashlight to the face, and would not let me pass. Whaaaaa? I held back, my friends went on in, then I tried again and he still wouldn’t let me in. I thought he was just being a jerk so I went around to the other entrance, which unfortunately was already closed for the night. The ladies there directed me back to the bouncer, who still wouldn’t let me inside. He said I had started a fight earlier inside the club, kicked some girl’s face in, knocked over a bunch of tables, then ran out screaming F you! F you! F you! to the bouncers.

Uh, yeah. This was not me. I am a peace lover, which is exactly what I said to the bouncers. “I’m a peace lover! I’ve been outside hanging out with my friends!” They were not having it. 

“Well, it was some girl who looked just like you,” the bouncer admitted, though still not waivering in his duty to keep the crowd safe from short, blond, table-trashing maniacs. So apparently last night a 5′4″ girl in a blue tank top, black skirt, fluorescent yellow fishnets, black and white striped legwarmers and a giant fuzzy fake fur coat beat someone up at the Showbox SoDo, knocked over several tables and did not take names. And because of that, Shilo missed the show.

It would have been funny if it didn’t suck. My friends all assumed I had gotten back in to the packed club and was dancing up at the front- after all, why wouldn’t the Showbox Sodo have let me back in? I cabbed it home and was in bed by midnight. Now I am all about new experiences, and this was a certainly a new one for me, but when said experiences interfere with new music, I get a little ticked off.

So how was Atmosphere? One of oppressive security at the Showbox SoDo, of bouncers who must not score very high on the job-satisfaction list, of people who need to CHILL OUT. The energy at hip-hop performances is palpably different from that at other shows, fomented in large part by the security forces who prove the cliche true that if you are looking for trouble, you will find it. 

But last night they made a mistake. The Showbox SoDo kicked out a peaceful dancer, someone who calms down violent drunk guys outside of clubs, marches in anti-war protests, has a peace sign tatttooed on her forehead and happens to write for a Seattle entertainment website. Oops. I’m guessing the party in the van was the best of the night, anyway.

So if you are wondering how the performance really was, here’s a message I got this morning to whet your appetite: Honestly the show was kinda mediocre, definitely very rehearsedly-adlib-like. Tried to play it off that ‘just because you’re Seattle and you’re holding it down’ but it was pretty scripted… didn’t sound mixed very well either. Kinda mixed like they’re trying to impress you with loud more than feel or good sound. Anyway, um shit stop throwing tables and getting kicked out of places alright?”

So there’s your review; now I gotta go clean this blood off my knuckles. Just kidding- I think the Showbox SoDo owes me a show ticket AND cab fare. Anyone else out there actually see Atmosphere perform and want to add their two cents in?

If you are heading to the Nas show at the Showbox SoDo this Friday night, tread lightly- and watch out for those crazy table-throwing blond girls- they’re everywhere.

GUEST BLOGGER: RIK WRIGHT

If you’ve never noticed it, there’s a seldom recognized non-profit here in Seattle dedicated to more avant-garde forms of free and creative music, art and dance performances. Located in a non-descript building on 18th and Union, Gallery 1412 has occupied the space formerly housing the Polestar Music Gallery for several years now. 

This Wednesday, May 14th, the gallery will host performances of two exciting groupings of Northwest sonic co-conspirators led by James DeJoie and Chris Stover.

James DeJoie has been gracing the Pacific Northwest with his baritone and alto saxophone performances for many years now. A Seattle native, DeJoie’s saxophonics, along with his clarinet and flute prowess, have been part of innumerable Seattle jazz outfits including the Jazz Police, the Jim Cutler Orchestra, the Jim Knapp Orchestra and Zen Tornado. DeJoie revels in the practice of bringing together diverse musical genres in distinctive combinations, enlisting veteran bassist Walter White, drummer Randy Doak, and exceptional vibraphonist Evan Buehler together to play their original compositions. Along with our more “traditional” jazz sound, Joie Tet often incorporates multiple wind and percussive instruments enhanced by electronic sampling, effect pedals and spoken word.

Chris Stover’s More Zero plays an exciting mix of modern jazz, drum-n-bass, and funk all within the framework of Chris’s unique compositional style. Favorably compared to the Dave Holland Quintet and John Hollenbeck’s Claudia Quartet, More Zero features an eclectic mix of some truly world class improvising musicians: Stuart MacDonald on saxophone, Ben Thomas on vibes, Jeff Norwood on bass, and Matt Jorgensen on drums. 

For a mid-week taste of musical experimentation and noteworthy instrumental prowess, visit Gallery 1412 for More Zero and the James DeJoie Joie Tet and treat yourself to this fabulous combination of local inspirations.

Rik Wright
http://www.rikwright.com

GUEST BLOGGER: S.P. MISKOWSKI

In a perfect world, the good relationships we’ve lost would get a second chance. With grace, an engaging cast, and impressive technical expertise, Seattle director Lynn Shelton offers a vivid tale of friendship between two men who have every reason to grow apart in drama My Effortless Brilliance.

Novelist Eric Lambert Jones (Sean Nelson of local band Harvey Danger) decides to use his latest book tour as an excuse to drop in on estranged buddy Dylan (Basil Harris) who leads a rustic existence in a cabin in eastern Washington. They are joined for booze, late night conversation, and a shambling cougar hunt by Dylan’s friend Jim (Calvin Reeder), whose presence further demonstrates the gap that is widening between the two men.

The film is layered with carefully devised character histories, created by Shelton in discussion with the actors. Yet the dialog has been improvised within each scene. The result is a joyously fresh and moving story with the best of both worlds- a solid structure and playful, believable interactions. The silences between characters are given as much respect as their words. In the balance, there is a spoken and unspoken truth, a sense of both the inadequacy of speech and its necessity for human comfort.

Jeanette Maus completes the cast, with a charming comic turn as an enthusiastic book tour interviewer.

My Effortless Brilliance is a delightful reminder that we often like people for strange and subterranean reasons. We may not be able to justify them. We may have nothing in common. Yet when we meet–even after years–the conversation picks up mid-syllable. For better or worse, we understand one another. Where do we assign such friendships in our lives? 

Screening of My Effortless Brilliance at the Seattle International Film Festival takes place on Saturday, May 24th at 9:30PM and on Monday, May 26th at 4:00PM, at the Egyptian Theatre.

Hey all you crazy, fevered, music-obsessed Seattleites out there! There’s a new forum for enthusiasts to get a good dose of first-hand Seattle music news from people in the know: SeattleSubsonic, otherwise known as “The Sound From Under the Clouds.” Pretty good, huh?

Local music freak, uh, I mean local music fan Kevin LeDoux, formerly of the Northwest Music Blog, has started a new website with a stellar lineup of writers and featuring all the best in Seattle sound, including recommended shows, venues, and blogs; they also have a calendar of upcoming events and articles about the freshest local acts bubbling up as well as the big tours making the rounds.

So why are we promoting another blog on the CultureMob blog? Shouldn’t we be snarkily trashing SeattleSubsonic with a hipster sneer, straight out of our tight pants and from behind messy purple hair? NAH. We’re not like that. Seattle’s a big little town and the more local music support and artist promotion circulating around, the better. This city is known for music (just ask my generation) and no mayor, no closed venues, no decibel meters can stop that. Seattle’s music enthusiasts can and must work together to foster the creative arena, support the artists out there every day doing their thing, and build the Seattle music scene up from a buzz to a barbaric yawp.

Seattle has heaps of interesting music blogs out there reporting back on various aspects of the local music scene, such as NWTekno, Nada Mucho, LineOut, Three Imaginary Girls, Sound on the Sound, Reverb, Seattle Live Music, and many more, all with the same goal: to get you out there and involved in the amazing music scene, whether you like electronic music, punk rock, jazz, or all of the above.

And besides, CultureMob.com is the only website where you can find events concerning all your entertainment interests; not just music but movies, comedy, theatre, dance, sports, festivals, lectures, and community gatherings. Only on CultureMob can you track your favorite performers and get alerted when they come to Seattle, add a MySpace or Facebook calendar to your profile, email your friends about upcoming events, and post previews, reviews, and comments of artists, events, and venues.

So check out SeattleSubsonic and in the immortal words of one of my good friends and local artist: GET INTO IT! It’s your town, your life, your evening: make it one for the blogs.

You know Produkt. You might not know that you know Produkt, but you do. You have no doubt seen these cats on dance floors, behind decks, taking pictures, painting, drawing, and promoting the Seattle electronic music scene all over the city, night after night, club after club.

Humans don’t fit into one category, as easy as that might be for us, and this is why the diverse artistry which Produkt provides and CultureMob.com are such a beautiful match. We all have many interests. I love electronic music, which is why I check NWTekno about a thousand times a day. However, I also really like horror movies, sketch comedy, reggae, festivals, sculpture exhibits, and swing dancing- and this is where CultureMob comes in. We cover the whole spectrum of entertainment and recognize that everyone has multiple interests in the arts and wants to discover local events without going to twenty different websites.

Produkt realizes this too, which is why at an event like the upcoming Gruvsessionz at Heavens Nightclub you will find not only skilled DJs spinning a variety of beats from house to techno to drum and bass to glitch, but also local visual artists doing their thing live, go-go dancers who truly love to dance (and just happen to be total hotties), and photographers documenting the good times (just in case anyone’s memory is a little fuzzy).

I support Produkt for one reason which is really two: PRODUKT GETS DOWN. Known as the “dopest crew in town,” the Produkt peeps are all about having fun and living it up; however they also take care of their business, heavily promoting each other as well as local artists from outside the group. Produkt stays engaged with the Seattle scene, organizing new events and injecting electricity into the nightlife of the city, which all too often suffers from a hipster-ethos, an I’m-too-cool-to-care vibe. I always hear people whining about how hard it is to make friends in Seattle, and that no one dances in this town. Those people obviously have never been to a Produkt show.

Even the group’s name connotes this passionate response to artistic expression. Just as Produkt provides new experiences for Seattle, they too are a Produkt of the music they deliver. With all of the art happening all around, how could you NOT become excited and go out and dance and have fun? As much as humans create art, it creates us too. Come to a Produkt event and you will find a dance floor full of smiling faces rocking out. And did I mention the hotties?

Produkt has already proved successful with the ongoing series of Analog nights which occur the last Friday of every month at Rebar; next up is the May 30th Analog IX: I Like Orange and Techno. Their newest conquest is Gruvsessionz which will take place the second Friday of every month from here on out at Heavens Nightclub. This Friday is the debut of the new monthly which showcases not only resident and guest DJs Lee Jonas, Awggie, Richie Spoons, Pressha, and Goner but also the holographic art of Lazer Guided Visions artist Raja, fire performances by the Womanipuria Fire Troop, and experimental bellydance theatre by the Hands of Kali. All this action will be documented by professional photographers and journalists and of course, the Produkt dancers will be out in force, as smart and sassy as they are beautiful. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Gruvsessionz is free before 10PM, $5 until 11PM, and $7 until 2AM, and if you haven’t been to Heavens Nightclub in Pioneer Square, then you are missing out on one of the biggest and best dance floors in Seattle. Come and experience the encompassing experience that Produkt creates; immerse yourself in music, dance, art, fire, and best of all- a group of positive partyers who bring it on and hold it down. See you on the dance floor.