Posts Tagged ‘Chapter 10’

Sonikku

By Pavliné


With his music soaked in tropical sounds and releases on labels such as Balearic dream curators Distant Hawaii Sonikku and SWEAT look like a match made in heaven. Headlining this takeaway edition alongside Al Zanders, the Lobster Theremin affiliate talks pop music classics, video game soundtracks and time travel!

Hey Tony, we can’t wait to have you back! You’ve played at Dalston Superstore several times and also at Chapter 10.  For those who might not know you, could you tell us a bit about yourself and your Sonikku moniker?

 SONIKKU is a musical hybrid of Sonic the Hedgehog and Madonna.

Listening to your tracks (in particular Dilemma), it’s obvious your music is widely influenced by pop music. Could you give us  a few examples of the perfect pop album according to you?

First Album – Madonna 

Body Talk – Robyn

Bad Girls – Donna Summer
 

Any pop song you think works especially good on a dance floor?

I love the Instrumental of Katy Perry’s California Gurls, and more recently I’ve been playing ‘I Don’t Want It At All’ by Kim Petras

 Seeing as you described your sound as a musical hybrid of Sonic the Hedgehog and Madonna, any particular video game soundtracks you would recommend to our readers?

Final Fantasy VIII, Killer 7, Ghost in the Shell (PS1), Sonic 3

2018 is very nearly with us. What does the new year have in store for you musically??

 I have three EP’s scheduled for 2018 and I’m currently working with a pop star I really admire.

 What can we expect from your set at Superstore?

 I haven’t played much of my tropical music for a while, I’m looking forward to revisiting those sounds for SWEAT!

Can you think of a track that would fit the tropical and hedonistic aesthetic of SWEAT?

Holiday – Madonna 

And finally, the classic Dalston Superstore question: if we had a time machine ready to take you to any dance floor, past present or future, where would you like to go and why?

Probably Tokyo in the year 3017 or something – and also London 2007 in the Plastic People days – Wish I was old enough to have experienced that period.


Catch Sonikku alongside Al Zanders at SWEAT this Friday 5th January from 9pm-3am at Dalston Superstore!

 

Spencer Parker’s 2017

We are so psyched to welcome mischievous house and techno don Spencer Parker as our guest of honour at the Superstore Christmas Bash! When he’s not travelling the world gracing the stages of some of our favourite clubs and festivals, Spencer is a regular guest at Berghain, be it playing house and disco upstairs in Panorama Bar or filthy techno on the club’s main floor. We’ve been hearing whispers since September that his set at Field Maneuvers was many people’s festival highlight of the year, so we can’t wait to hear what he unleashes on the lazer basement! We caught up for a Baileys and a chat about his 2017…

Personal highlight?

I quite like my eyes… but I have a beautiful smile too – tough to pick just one if i’m being brutally honest…

Favourite release of the year? 

Mella Dee – Techno Disco Tool on Warehouse Music

Craziest gig? 

Playing Hi Tech Jazz on a roof this summer, as the sun came up over beautiful Monopoli, southern Italy, for the amazing Apart party gang.

Favourite film? 

MOONLIGHT !!!!

Best festival story of the year?

Ryan Elliott‘s set at Field Maneuvres, but its not a story – it was REAL (and great)!

Favourite Christmas guilty pleasure?

I love a Baileys! (Shout out to Terry’s Chocolate Orange too though!)

2017 Lowlight?

Complete, utter, devastating and total heartbreak.

Worst meal?

It was that “breakfast” at Glasgow airport a couple weeks back. I know, I know… It’s my own fault…

Best tour destination?

I think that it has to be, and shall always remain, TOKYO! (But after travelling there a little recently, I’m also beginning to fall in love with LA, I have to say.)

Best rave moment? 

Charles Jeffrey (and accompanying outfit) dancing on a speaker to Hannah Holland playing classic Tenaglia featuring Liz Torres on vocals while standing next to our beloved Dan Beaumont in his safe space™ at Chapter 10.


Catch Spencer Parker at our Superstore Christmas Bash on Saturday 16 December from 9pm-4am at Dalston Superstore!

 

DJ Sprinkles

We’ve borrowed this amazing conversation from our friend Charlie Porter’s website…

DJ Sprinkles is playing at Chapter 10 on Friday night. A conversation, in full, about everything

It’s 7am UK time, 4pm in Tokyo, and Terre Thaemlitz is there on the Skype. Terre is an absolute idol of mine, producing work and playing records under the name DJ Sprinkles.

The work is extraordinary – unrestricted, freeform, sonically aware, made with intent and yet totally inclusive.

She does not assimilate into any industry norms, and by doing so makes work that stands high above it.

DJ Sprinkles is coming to London this Friday, November 7th, to play at Chapter 10 at Dance Tunnel.

And so she’s agreed to talk, via Skype.

As I turn my voice recorder on, I’m asking her what she’s been up to today, the day beginning where I am, the day nearly over where she is.

TERRE THAEMLITZ: Actually I’ve been working on some custom edits of tracks for Friday night.

ME: Oh amazing. Do you do that often?

Yeah, if I’m listening to something and I think it would be nice with a longer edit or something like that, I’ll just sit down and make it, and see if it works or not.

What are the edits of?

They’re kind of secret. On the dancefloor people will recognise what they are.

Is it new, or stuff that’s old?

Oh yeah, old stuff, often stuff from the 70s.

Tell me your schedule, how often are you there, how often do you travel?

I try not to travel more than once every two months or so. I don’t like to travel.

But you were just here recently right?

I was, I did a crazy weekend in Cardiff and Bristol. I just got back Monday and next Friday I’ll be going again. But that’s unusual.

How were Cardiff and Bristol?

Alright. I like playing outside London. Different social climate.

What’s the difference?

What do you think the difference is? Everybody in England knows the difference.

Tell me.

This was my first time in Wales and in Bristol, but for example if you go up north there’s more of a history of socialism and unionisation that gives a different climate. London’s like New York or any major megapolis where money shits through it, so that also creates a climate that has a different neo-liberal tension around it the whole time.

What do you mean by neo-liberal tension?

Well you know what neo-liberalism is, right?

Right. [To my shame I don’t]

There’s that climate of where that Right-wing ideological power base is connected to a financial power base in the most obvious ways. When you have big banking and big business and all that stuff you end up with a climate that makes it difficult to breathe.

I’m obsessed with time, and the length of things, and how time affects nightlife. I’m interested in how you skirt over time in some way. You can allow tracks to be long without being scared of them.

I think it’s important when you’re in a club context to get away from the notion of a “song”, and not be like, “oh yeah I love this song!” There’s that weird energy that people get around pop dance music. I like to get away from that, and one way to do that is to have tracks that go way beyond the length of a normal radio edit. Let time pass and start listening beyond that initial recognition of a track, and just experience it as time.

But there’s still also a dynamic inside the track, and a tension that keeps things going.

Well why wouldn’t there be? It’s weird that people are afraid of duration and length as if that’s going to create some sort of stagnant glue on the floor. Sometimes it’s ten minutes before you get into something. If you listen to classical Indian raga, it doesn’t even start until 20 minutes into it. Clubs are also like that, especially if you’re really in a club for all night. Different cities vary, but for example in Japan the subways shut down at 12.30am, and then you’re just stuck overnight until they start running again at 5.30am. When you have those lengths of time to play with, it doesn’t make sense to be changing records every two and a half minutes. Not for me, you know? I’d rather go this other direction, where it just lets time take its own course rather than pushing everything so hard. In a way, playing fewer longer songs can compress time and makes it seem to pass faster, if you allow yourself to get into the grooves and lose sight of the “songs.”

My experience of clubs over twenty odd years is about the constriction of time – that it’ll close at 2am, or 3am.

In that case you can play only four or five tracks and be done [she laughs]. The up side of short sets is that you can come back later and not repeat your previous set.

Have you ever just played four or five tracks?

Sometimes people put you on for an hour or 90 minutes. It’s rare but it happens. Since I make twelve, thirteen minute tracks, I’ll get four or five tracks in and I’m done. But I like that sometimes. It’s good to leave people hanging. It’s OK. It’s funny how out of that duration comes this feeling at the end of, oh yeah it wasn’t enough. The scale of time shifts. This person needed more time to play for it to make sense. Maybe I look at it like playing a bunch of short tracks in a short set is similar to taking a subway. You make a lot of quick stops, but you’re in a tunnel without much of a view. Playing long tracks over several hours is maybe more like being stuck on some freeway in the Midwest of America. You’re just going through nothingness forever, then you come across a town, but you pass through it before you realise it.

I’m also interested in progress, and that there should be progress in dance music, or that it should evolve.

I mean most things that announce themselves as progressive or on the vanguard are the most regressive, right? You can’t get more old-school modernist than stating you’re on the vanguard of something. You still hear that language today, and people are still totally invested in it, but that’s dead over a half century ago, or more.

It’s the assumption that club culture has to be something new or at the forefront.

That’s the way it’s always marketed towards youth culture and this idea of the new experience. Here in Japan, a lot of the clubs are in a panic about the population decline, and from the marketing side asking how do you get the young people into the clubs. There is this dominant preoccupation of getting this new experience to the new crowd who haven’t experienced it before. But my ideal audience is 50 year olds.

Yeah.

I mean seriously. It’s not a joke.

Also in terms of queer history and gay culture – the assumption that clubbing involves progress.

I think clubs do play a particular role in the whole cliché mythology of queer immigration to the big cities, and the big cities are where the clubs are. You can’t get access to the music in a small bumfuck town. That whole thing of gaining access to a liberatory space, that’s all part of the role of clubs within this larger mythology of queer liberation and urban sexual ghettos.

When you say mythology, is there an alternate story, or is that the story?

An alternative story is the story of closets, that’s one alternative. Maybe alternate is the wrong word. It’s more simultaneous stories. All the different manifestations of queer existence in open and closeted forms that do exist constantly. The reason I call it mythology is because that is part of – when you grow up in these rural places… I don’t know where you grew up…

100 miles north of London.

So you know how the image of the big city functions outside the city, and the potential it promises to people in the countryside. That’s the cliché we absorb. From my experience of growing up in the mid-west and rural areas, the appeal of the big city was its offering of a space for the outsider and the misfit and the queer. Conversely, if you were a good old boy, why would you want to go to the big city? So there are counter mythologies in terms of who stays in the home town. Who would never want to go to the city? And then within that there’s a subculture of really die-hard farmer queers and shit like that. But by and large the mythology is, you escape the rednecks and you run like hell to some kind of sexual ghetto, where at least within that sexual ghetto you find some kind of solidarity, right? That’s the myth.

And it’s a more glamorous myth than staying in the country.

Depends who you are. It doesn’t mean you have to be a total asshole to want to live in the country. You don’t. It ups the ante, but it’s not a guarantee. And like I said also, when you’re in the city, you have all this fucking financial neoliberal agenda bullshit: careers, etc. That’s also part of the myth of urbanisation – the desire of having a good career – all that feeds into our clublife, doesn’t it?

Yeah.

A lot of the times clubs are entertainment for totally white collar jack-offs, basically. It depends what clubs, but the people who can afford to go to certain clubs are people who are at a particular state in their career. Or it’s a kid thing, blowing all your savings to go have the night of your life type of stuff.

Does that make your own relationship with club culture fractious?

It makes me an employee. And it makes it a site of labour. That’s also part of it, identifying clubs as a site of labour, not only a site of escape and blah blah.

Does that labour allow you to be creative on your own terms?

It’s one way of not working in an office everyday. We all pick our ways to try to survive. For me it’s not about achieving some sort of ideal, some sort of, “oh god I fucking love what I do!” It’s just work, you know?

But your work isn’t attempting to fit into a mass commercial frame.

Yeah but I don’t think most people’s jobs are, even if they have big dreams aspirations of “making it rich”. Most people’s jobs are enough to float them by, regardless of what industry they’re working in. There seems to be a culturally agreed upon assumption that if you’re a doctor you’re this super successful amazing doctor, the same goes if you’re a lawyer, and if you’re a musician you’re a fucking rock star. It’s just, most people aren’t Top Chef. Most people are working at McDonalds.

Do you think subversion still exists in club culture?

I think subversion exists in every aspect of culture, but in varying degrees and often in uncalculated ways. I wouldn’t want to answer that question in a way that could be misconstrued as the cliché, of “club culture is subversive” – I don’t really buy that. That’s a different proposition to how I would approach that question. In general, the answer is not really, but of course subversion exists.

Do you think it’s something that could become more apparent?

No I think it has to do with context, and that makes it against the mathematical odds. Of course, it depends what type of subversion people are talking about. Maybe the most boring club to you or I would still be considered subversive to someone like my dad. To me, subversion would be something else entirely. I am specifically thinking through lenses of queerness, transgenderism, poverty and things like this… The sites where those struggles occur and are branded subversive are going to be small in number, in the same way that with any queer factor of any context you’re dealing with a subset of any audience, a subset of any public, a subset of any group. That’s just how queer subversion works. It’s not like you have one massive club that’s utterly subversive. It’s about subversion occurring in different ways and in different contexts. Some contexts can be more extreme in their relationships to these issues and manifest themselves in more challenging ways. That’s where places become sites for social organising and communal organising. The people who nurture those spaces, they organise themselves not only around music but also in terms of how to survive hetero-normative culture. That for me would become a site of subversion or resistance. But it’s going to be rare, and it’s going to be some place that’s not going to have funding, it’s going to be the kind of place that’s not going to be able to bring me from Japan to DJ, you know what I mean?

So actually subversion isn’t the co-opted word in a cliché club way of how do describe a mass body, but it’s more personal and individual, probably unknown and probably really hard for that individual.

Subversion implies discomfort. If the majority of the industry that we’re talking about is pleasure based, then finding spaces where discomfort is actively present – not only in terms of people being so shitfaced that they’re puking on themselves, but a different level of cultural discomfort – those spaces are going to be few and far between, and they’re also going to have much more to offer in terms of educational and cultural organising value.

And also as gay culture becomes more hetero-normative in terms of marriage being the goal.

Aligned with career, owning your own home, child-rearing.

Has it always been clear for you the difference between gay culture and queer culture, in that gay culture has the desire to please heterosexuals.

That would be too broad of a statement, because I think it depends how one approaches that term “gay” – how you approach “lesbian”, “gay”, “homosexual”. If they’re invoked in a predictable LGTB mainstream way, which involves trying to sell ourselves as amazing people about whom straight folks can say “they’re just like you and me”, that sort of stuff to me has always been really alienating, because it appeals to acceptance in dominant culture. It’s like seeking the love of an abusive parent, instead of culturally moving away from the corruptions of family. At the same time there are other forms of exclusion that have to do with transphobia, and the imposition of this strictly homosexual model of gayness that excludes the fact that homosexuality and heterosexuality instantly fall apart if you’re trans-identifying, and you can’t identify identical or counter sexual object choices. If you can’t specify your opposite gender or your same gender, then instantly this very traditional and heterosexually bound category of gayness becomes something quite meaningless, oppressive and limiting. It really depends on how people approach the term “gay”. Some people are pretty relaxed about their definitions and say “gay” when they mean “queer” in a more open sense. But usually it’s the opposite, where people say “queer” when they mean “gay” in the conventional and limiting sense. It just depends on where people’s minds are. For the sake of our conversation we can give people a little credit and say that “gay” is not always so anti-queer, but there are definitely quite oppressive LGBT appeals to mainstream acceptance and power sharing that I find disturbing.

Is the history of queer culture in clubs separate from the mythology of gay culture?

For me, what differentiates queerness from mainstream LGBT language is that queerness is always very much entangled with conditions of harassment and persecution. Even if you try to be “proudly queer”, it’s still a derogatory term. It still comes with this homophobic connection to violence and harassment. That has always been a part of the development of lesbian and gay culture through modernity. Of course the violence and the homophobia have affected people no matter how religiously or loosely they related to a strictly defined homosexual identity. So in that sense queerness is always present. It’s that displacement of not being able to find a safe space. Fifty years ago, maybe you went to a club in search of a safe space, but they were still dangerous. You could be spotted there by somebody and outed. You could be spotted going in. It could be raided by police. You could be arrested and have your name in the paper. There were all kinds of harassment bullshit. Every country has their own harassment stuff. Britain was particularly horrible to people in the 70s.

That for me is queerness, not something that’s just an academic rejection of the hetero/homo binary, but it really goes beyond that rejection to something that originates in violence, and in experiences of violence, and in an urgency and panic of what to do amidst that violence and harassment.

It’s interesting because queerness has a certain posh softness to it.

Yeah I don’t know exactly what the linguistic gap is. I think most British people recognise that Americans use the term “fag” in a derogatory way. There are differences in language, and I’m speaking as someone who was conditioned in the American English language so maybe sometimes these things I’m saying don’t resonate properly.

Oh no they resonate.

In the US the term “queer” has definitely been coopted by academia. It’s become very institutionalised. A lot of people in Queer Studies programmes wouldn’t feel or sense the inherent contradiction in saying “queer pride”. They’re instructing queerness through a pride-based model, and to me that’s just so fucking backwards and insane.

Like the word’s been gutted.

It’s been ripped of contexts where lives are more informed by shame than pride.

And also not seen as a day to day individual reality.

Yeah and I think this goes back to forms of sexual ghettoization. I think the arts and academia are “big city” places where a lot of people run to. There is definitely migratory mythology around that – “my queer migration into academia”. I think that whenever you have these kind of enclaves that are seemingly and systematically granting a kind of safe space to people, it’s easy to forget that it is still a process of ghettoization within the wider culture. People lose sight of violence in a way, and internalise their newfound sense of safety to the point of ambivalence toward certain things.

It’s interesting you say “safe space” about things. It’s like people yearning for comfort, or assuming their life involves the goal of comfort.

Well I do think the LGBT movement has reframed the urgent need to escape persecution as a quest for comfort, reconciling that with standard right wing neo-liberal agendas of seeking pleasure and seeking relaxation. That’s “safety” in the way you just invoked it. I am not speaking of safety as a quest for comfort. For me, safety is about not getting punched, not getting spat on, not getting disowned and kicked out of a house and made homeless. That for me is safety. That’s the level I’m thinking on. I do think that through the mainstreaming of LGBT agendas, this kind of urgency has been reframed has hopes and dreams and good ol’ folks who share the same dreams and ambitions as everyone else. Of course that’s partly true because we’re all fed the same bullshit aspirations from childhood onwards with Sesame Street and all that crap. But one’s relationship to those, and what relationships we’re socially allowed to have or denied as a result of issues of sexuality, gender, etc., can result in quite different experiences of social conditioning around those expectations.

Were you always fearless?

It’s funny. I always think of myself as afraid.

Yeah as soon as I said the word “fearless”, that’s what I thought you’d say.

And again, there’s this way in which dominant culture wants to frame things as heroic, wants to frame things as about being in some sort of vanguard, with the fucking wind in your face and yeah you’re just so fucking tough. No it’s totally about acknowledging being really fucked-up and fragile and lost. That’s a different kind of isolation than the heroic model, that for me resonates with queerness and not with the whole pride movement stuff. The whole Pride movement shit is totally reconciled with all this vanguard modernity, face-the-future, go-for-it bravery shit. For me that’s the language and the style and the aspirations of the people who were kicking my ass as a youth. So I’m like, fuck that. It doesn’t click for me. It’s not interesting to me. It’s not helpful to me. It’s stopping me from identifying the material bases for my cultural alienations, which is a prerequisite for social agency.

Were you always allergic to the thing that felt wrong, rather than assimilate to it?

Oh no I was desperately trying to fit in, of course. I think that’s the normal thing, to be so fucking desperate to fit in, especially going through youth. Youth is a nightmare, wouldn’t you agree?

Yeah beyond.

Would you ever want to go back?

No. Literally never.

Never, never want to go back. Getting older is the best fucking thing that ever happens to people. And that’s really difficult to talk about in a cultural climate that’s so fixated on youth.

But it’s interesting when you realise only you as an individual is going to live your life, so live your life and make your own choices.

Again, you’re invoking this modernist language of individualism. I mean I think it’s important to always have active language that keeps a person from buying into the lie of those choices being a wide breadth of choices. In the end, the majority of people never overcome the class barriers that they were born into. That’s just a statistical fact. The reality of what choices we’re allowed to make are very limited, beginning with most people not being able to step out of male or female, not being able to step out of a singular hetero-/homo- sexual identity. Once we internalize these things, then even if we feel like we’re really making choices, the range of our choices are so few, very few. Culturally, we’re given just enough choice to psychologically squeak by. Dominant cultures don’t forgive choice, don’t forgive difference and diversity.

And then as we get older, we solidify those gender differences ourselves, so that our idea of female is defined by make-up or appearance.

Yeah, about ten years ago I stopped wearing make-up when in femme drag, in feminist solidarity against the tyranny of the cosmetics industry. Make-up is so fucking expensive, and I know so many women who are really at the poverty line blowing so much money on the labour of looking feminine. And it really is labour. Similarly, within trans communities, that’s part of the labour of passability. That is a heavy duty work load, and I don’t have much skill for it, especially as I get older.

I’m not one of those people who feels comfortable when I’m in femme drag. I’m feeling uncomfortable always, in male or female clothes. So I just stopped doing make-up, but then people comment about how I’m too lazy to shave. It’s like, I do shave, as close as I can. I’m just not piling foundation on, and I’m not taking hormone treatments, and I’m not paying people to do laser hair removal. I’m trying to have a non-medically mediated relationship to my body as trans. That’s a very unpopular thing that brings a lot of hostility, not only from transphobic assholes pointing out what a mess I am, but also people within trans communities pointing out what a mess I am. My attempts to divest of certain representational procedures involves a completely different kind of trans labour that doesn’t have much visibility around it, as opposed to the labour of trying to pass in a more conventional way.

Do you mean the labour of coping with the reaction you get?

It’s a lot of work to maintain oneself, and sometimes I get lazy – by which I really mean exhausted. Like what I’m wearing right now – my lazy clothes are my boy clothes and part of that laziness is they grant me a gender passability that is less questioned than when I’m in femme drag, even if it’s casual femme. I don’t mean gala stage queen stuff. I generally don’t do that. I generally try to wear more everyday, standard femme clothes – which is as much about the fear of creating a spectacle that results in being spotted and harassed on the street, as it is about rejecting clichés of MTF campiness. But choosing clothes also has to do with where my mind is. Am I in the mindset where I have the patience to deal with the looks and the stares when I’m going to the market? Especially since I am already a racial spectacle in my neighbourhood. Sometimes I do, and sometimes I really don’t. And that affects how much labour one is able to put into it. It’s work to dress, no matter what you’re aiming for.

It’s interesting that it’s your body, your hormones and DNA that make you you, so why would you want to add hormones.

I don’t know. I really think that the whole discussion of hormones and DNA… if you really get to that level, if you really want to talk about biology, you really have to get into such detail that genders become non-quantifiable. And that’s the point where you leave conventional western science, because conventional western science relies on quantification, dismissing the minor percentages and going with the bulk percentages, and making sure you can identify things by counting them. And that is how we culturally justify what is real and what is not, what should be funded for research, what should not. This makes it difficult to speak about non-quantifiability and the fact that, really, if you want to get pissy about it, every single person has a unique gradient of gender going on. So that makes the active discussions around DNA and hormones and stuff more problematic. It doesn’t make them totally useless, but it often makes them unhelpful when thinking about social organising in relation to harm reduction and violence reduction. Because in that case the organising really has to do with a social capacity to make decisions and engage in choices that will reduce violence. If you limit the conversation to the realm of biology and medical treatments, your choices are made for you, and there is no room for language of personal agency. Neo-liberalism loves that, they love to legislate rights around “I can’t help it, I was born this way” rhetoric. Because that’s totally in line with feudalism and aristocracy: that your rights are bestowed to you based on the blood in your veins. It’s a completely conservative and familiar argument, and the fact that western democracy continues to legislate around “what can’t be helped,” DNA and blood lines, all this stuff is a sign that we have never really entered democracy at all. In the same way there’s never been a communist society, I would argue there’s never been a democratic one. The gap between the ideals of democracy and how rights are actually legislated around the body is so obscene and feudalistic, that gap for me is as big as the gap between communism and Stalinism. It really is that broad for me, but most people won’t feel it as that broad.

Do you have any hope that there will ever be the right legislation or the right protection against violence, or is it just getting by with having to deal with what’s there?

I think there’s been a real deliberate backwards trend since Reaganomics and Thatcherism that has lead to a global reinvestment into the privilege of individuals and ownership, privatisation and getting away from state projects. Even though we keep the language of democracy, socially we’re moving further and further away from state projects, we’re going more and more into privatisation – our healthcare and things like the postal service, the power companies and all these things that were built through our taxes are then sold off and privatised to people who are free to then just make billions, which they do. Especially now, since we’ve exported so much of our labour and manufacturing to places and cultures where they really have far less issue with openly exploiting the labour classes on a slave level than in the west, it really allows the west to feel like, “oh yeah, we can still talk about freedom and how we’ll get there someday and things are getting better.” Fuck no, everything’s going fucking backwards, we’re just totally in shit. Capitalism works better with slavery, people in power know it, the wealthy know it, and that’s how we get into all this privatisation shit.

And capitalism works even better when the slavery’s somewhere else so you don’t have to look at it.

Yeah, that’s a huge part of it. That’s part of the whole western agenda of marketing pleasure: to obscure and obfuscate the actual practices of labour required to sustain our privileges – even if that’s the privilege of living in the lower classes in the west. We’ve just got to hide all that shit so people can live in their delusions. That’s classic capitalist alienation and reification in extreme.

I’ve got to run soon, but I’m interested in how we keep coming back to language, and the limitations of language, or the way language defines things in a way that feels separate from the truth.

Language is oftentimes enslaved to expressing the inversion of material conditions. Dominant cultures cultivate language, especially in an era of mass communication. Of course language is the main means of explaining and justifying the imbalances of power. Language is fucked up, and we’re all fucked up by it [she laughs].

The loveliest thing about your thinking and you is that the work you create is so warm.

Well I think people buy into a very monochromatic model of what warmth is. That includes presuming warmth and happiness are aligned. A lot of times they aren’t. A lot of times warmth has to do more with a capacity for sympathy and empathy rather than actual pleasure or joy, and I think that’s a big mistake that people make. I think they also make the mistake that if you acknowledge your sufferings and oppressions in an attempt to step into a space where you can start to react to them on a material, organisational level, then you’ll be trapped in existential crisis. You’ll just be paralysed, you’ll have Sartonian nausea, you just won’t know what to do. No. There’s all kinds of mobility out there that are fuelled by negativity. I mean important kinds of mobility rooted in urgency, not the luxury of hope. People are taught that “negativity” breeds the “bad things” in life. But what morality does that reflect when you as a person are branded a “bad thing” to begin with? What does it mean when most of the fag-bashers I grew up with were socially accepted as positive, athletic, god-fearing role models? Most people would categorize fag bashing as a negative thing, but for me its horror is a reflection of the “positive,” the plusses, the praised, the excesses of systems of cultural domination. For me, all of this destabilizes one’s perception of warmth and coldness, and creates false expectations for where we might find such things.

I always think about Hush Now, and how it’s so warm and bouncy, and then the “Silence = Death” chant comes in, and it so amazing the way the two are connected, and it’s like the perfect delivery for that.

That’s a reworking of something from the Archive Of Silence by Ultra-red. That project was very much around how silence functions in relation to the history of HIV and AIDS activism, and how we’ve re-entered a period of silence. So that “hush now” is in a way the hush we have now, and it’s also an order – “hush now, be quiet”. So having the track transition from the phrase “hush now” into the old HIV/AIDS activist chant “silence = death”, reinvoking that chant today, was the gesture I was going for.

—-

Here’s that work, Hush Now.

I’ve included this YouTube clip, and not others, because it was posted by its record label. 

For years I’ve wanted to get her 2008 CD, Midtown 120 Blues.

It’s one of those ones that goes for £££ on Discogs.

She’s just released a special edition on Boomkat.

Here’s a sampler – click on it to buy.


Read full review of Midtown 120 Blues (Special Edition) – DJ SPRINKLES on Boomkat.com ©

My copy turned up over the weekend.

Some of the sleevenotes:

“The audio on this CD is identical to the 2008 first edition and subsequent represses on Mule Musiq. There are no plans for a vinyl edition because the bass spatialization effects that give many of these recordings their sonic character are incompatible with vinyl mastering techniques.

Featuring Comafidelity Multi-Channel Sound. No fucking-sucking-licking-sticking without latex. Clean your works with bleach and water. Do not attempt usng any part of this product as a safer sex device.”

Amazing.

Join Charlie Porter and DJ Sprinkles this Friday 7th November for Chapter 10 at Dance Tunnel from 10pm – 3am.

Visit Charlie Porter’s website: charlieporter.net

Charlie Porter

Fashion writer and Chapter 10 resident DJ Charlie Porter joins us this Friday for Pecker, kicking off another bank holiday weekend in the laser basement. Ahead of the party he shared with us his current fave records to give us a taste of what to expect…

1: Omar S – Frogs

When I played this at Chapter 10, the soundman asked if it was meant to sound like that. Um, yes…

2: Daywalker & CF – Supersonic

I have a copy of this waiting for me at Phonica, which I need to pick up before Friday arrrghh… It’s my hero Willie Burns with someone nice called Entro Senestre.
 
3: Mr G – Tripped Out

Totally intense heaven.

4: Legowelt – When The Spring Comes Again

OMG in total shock news the new Legowelt album isn’t actually that weird or scary at all and is obviously amazing!

5: Willie Burns – The Heaviest Element

Don’t actually really know who Willie Burns is but I’m obsessed with him.

6: Poisonous Relationship – Men’s Feelings

The best record of 2013, still sounds incredible…

7: Bam Bam – Where’s Your Child?

The oldest record in the universe but am still completely obsessed…

Join Charlie this Friday 2nd May for Pecker at Dalston Superstore from 9pm – 3am

Visit Charlie Porter’s website: charlieporter.net

Portable aka Bodycode

Gay dance party Chapter 10 brings special guest Portable aka Bodycode to their warehouse party on Easter Sunday alongside the already stellar line-up of Rødhäd, Hannah Holland, Dan Beaumont and Charlie Porter.

The South African native, now based in Berlin (via Lisbon), is a former London resident who used to run the underground Süd Electronic parties with Lakuti as well as releasing amazing records on Perlon and Spectral, amongst others. Ahead of the party next weekend, we caught up with Portable to find out more…

How do you personally differentiate between Portable and Bodycode?

When I initially launched the Bodycode project it was to offer a straight-forward dance aesthetic, as the Portable moniker was initially experimental house/ambient.

Since then though, the Portable sound has mutated and in a way really absorbed a lot of the Bodycode aesthetic, so much so that I am often listed as Portable Bodycode at gigs and I often play both monikers tracks.

So I would say they are akin to reflecting sides of a coin. Constantly interchanging.

Do any tracks crossover between the aliases during production? You start writing it for one project and the more you work on it, it becomes clear it’s more suited to the other?

Not really, when I start out on  a track I rarely have the end result in mind, Often it will be while I’m on tour, or out of the studio when a spark of creation will entice me, and the further production takes place at a later stage, in my studio.

Your South African roots are evident in some of your music, with samples from old vinyl records of African tribes appearing… what other more personal influences are perhaps less obvious in your work?

I would say the inclusion of my vocals relatively quite recently really gave birth to an even more personal reflection of  emotive elements in my music.

We previously asked Lakuti about her favourite gay clubs in SA- what were yours?

You know, I lived there so long ago, that I really can’t remember any one place, and most likely they are long closed!

How did you persuade her to sing on your track Deeper Love?

Lerato and I have been friends for over 20 years, she’s like a sister to me, so it wasn’t difficult, and we come from the same musical fabric .

What prompted you to leave London, especially when you were running the successful Süd Electronic parties here?

Honestly , the weather, I went to Portugal, fell in love with the constant sunshine, and realised how much I missed the light!

How did your long-standing relationship with Perlon come about?

It sort of gradually just grew, Zip had invited me for some live shows for their Perlonized parties and I offered them tracks I was working on, and things just grew from there.

Where do you feel your live set-up works best- festivals, intimate basements, superclubs, warehouse parties? As you seem to run the gamut in your career, which, in your experience, best suits your sound?

It sort of fits in everywhere.my set is totally live, so I can really just decide what kind of atmosphere best suits the place I am booked to play in.

Do you think that LGBT people have enough visibility in dance music?

Visibility is just a perspective really. I am gay, so is Lakuti, and a number of people in the electronic music scene. Saying that, just recently there seems to be a change in that, just last week I was live at two gay parties in NYC and San Francisco, where promotors were continuously trying to change the stale sound of many gay parties.

Even though you have not lived there for some time, how do you feel about the situation for LGBT people in South Africa? Despite being the first country in Africa to legalise same-sex marriage, it does still seem very tough there…

Yes, on paper it’s legal but there are many horrific situations happening across S.Africa an Africa as a whole, but like you said I don’t live there, so I have the same information available to you.

You’re playing at gay dance party Chapter 10… what are your favourite gay dance parties across the world?

One of my favourites is run by Honey Sound System in San Francisco!

Join Portable at the Chapter 10 warehouse party on Sunday 20th April at Autumn Street Studios from 11pm – 6 am.

Buy tickets from Ransom Note.

Gene Hunt

By Dan Beaumont

Gene Hunt was a protégé of legendary Music Box resident DJ Ron Hardy and had a front-row seat for the genesis of house music in Chicago while still in his teens. He is fiercely protective of Hardy’s legacy and personifies a distinctive style of DJing that dates back to the beginnings of club culture itself. Gene Hunt is a collector of dance rarities, producer of unique analogue house tracks, reel-to-reel edit specialist but first and foremost a DJ.

I met him from Heathrow and accompanied him to St Pancras for a gig in Ghent. He agreed to let me record him talking as we had lunch waiting for the Eurostar.

DAN: Can you share a Ron Hardy DJ secret?

GENE: I remember we were playing together, I think it was about ’87, ’88.

I played this track and he was like, “Why did you rush it out, why didn’t you play the rest of the track?”

I said “But the floor cleared.”

He said, “Let me tell you something: This is what you’re gonna do.” He looked in his bag and he gave me a couple of records. The first record was called Galaxy, by War. So I play this record and cleared the floor again.

He said, “Play it a couple more times.”

I said, “Tonight?!”

He was like “Yeah! Play a couple tracks, do that, then play it again.”

So I played it again. And the crowd stayed on.

He said, “Do you see my point? You have the power to break records. But you cannot be afraid as a DJ to let them experience what you experience. Now what do you think about this record?”

I said, “I love it.”

“Now, what makes you think they don’t? If a record is eight minutes long, play it! Don’t just rush it out or rush it in because the drummers and the singers don’t start getting into their groove until the middle or towards the end of the record. So play that shit! Don’t be afraid. See what you just did?”

“What I do?”

“I just let you break the record.”

And I was like, “wow, you tricked me.”

“I always trick you.”,

Y’know, Ron would give me these challenges or tasks when we’re live at the club. “Alright, c’mon, bring something in.”

I’m like, “I don’t have my stuff with me!”

“Use my stuff.”

So, that was the part about execution. That was the part about timing. That was the part about learning. It was not being afraid to express what you want to express. Give them what they want, but then also educate them.

DAN: Do you think that DJs play too safe now?

GENE: Yes a lot of them do. A lot of them choose their hot spots, a lot of them find more simplistic ways to work an audience without being as creative as they are in other aspects. Now, since you have Traxsource and Beatport and all that other stuff, it makes it very accessible for people to just sit there all day and just purchase shit. Back in the days we had to go to the shops. We had to go to Loop Records, we had to go to Imports, we had to go to Gramophone, we had to go to different places to look in the bins and get creative to find what’s hot. You could get Hot Mix 5 [house music radio show] or you could go to The Playground or the Music Box or Sawyers or what have you and you would just sit back and feel the vibe of what’s going on. You would go to the record store the next day with your tape. We had somebody to educate us, to keep music going on.

DAN: What is the Chicago sound to you?

GENE: Basically, when house music occurred, I mean we had the disco era first, but when house music first came about, we had Chip E doing shit like Time To Jack, and It’s House. We had Jesse Saunders making On and On, we had Robert Owens and Fingers Inc and Bring Down The Walls and Mysteries Of Love, Ron Hardy doing Sensation, Frankie bringing out bring out reel to reels and tape decks to play the exclusive stuff. People didn’t have a Traxsource or a Beatport, you couldn’t just go there and buy something to sound and fit like everyone. The way they’ve designed the game now is you don’t have to go fish and find your music. We would take reel to reels and grab a razor blade and splice and do edits and make stuff go backwards, with the drum machines and outboard gear like Roland 909 or 707s or 303s and we would create our own stuff to play at parties that accentuate to make us different from one another. When Derrick May and Kevin Saunderson used to come down to the Box and bring the Rhythm Is Rhythm shit and strings of life. They would come to the Music Box and give us all that shit.

DAN: So what did you think of what was happening in Detroit?

GENE: Oh, they were really starting to break that edge. You had like Blake Baxter and Model 500, Metroplex, all that shit from Inner City, all that stuff they were doing, they had their own flavour. Like they took a certain element, they added their own attribute to it, and created a sound called techno. Like when I used to take a 909 track, I would just put basslines and make it real abstract, that would be considered as techno now. I would play that with disco, I would play that with house music because it was my rendition. Okay, what makes Gene Hunt so different? Tracks! He makes acid tracks with a 909 when Phuture 303 made that shit with a 707 and and the 727… he makes his acid tracks with the 909! Oh my god!

Everybody had a different flavor. Lil’ Louis when he did French Kiss and The Music Takes Me Away… I remember when he paid 300 bucks for an 808 drum machine, he started making French Kiss, got the deal with Ray Barney [owner of Dance Mania records].

DAN: Someone said that Jesse Saunders On And On track was important because it taught the whole of Chicago that anybody could make a house record.

GENE: All that stuff was being distributed by Larry Sherman who owned Trax Records. This man had a record company, a pressing plant, right in the back of a meat market! Everybody would come down there and get their stuff pressed up and they had different labels and so forth and we’d press vinyl. You would sit there with a hammer. Me and Ron Carrol would sit over by the garbage can. Ron Hardy would be in the other room doing the shrinkwrap. Steve Poindexter would be doing the typesetting and the labels. We would have all these old K-Tel records and shit and we’d have a hammer and break the records down so we could re-melt the wax. All those records that came out, that you would see on television, we’d break the records and tear out like the vinyl part of it and press records and you’d still see the old records pressed in the new records, oh it was gangster!

DAN: Was Larry Sherman a bit dodgy?

GENE: “A bit dodgy” wasn’t the word! Haha. Let’s try “total dodgy”! But we all learned. We would take the vinyl recording, get a good quality recording of it, go downstairs, make a plate of it, then press it up. The vinyl quality was shitty but back then it was beautiful just to be able to get a record that you couldn’t get. So, Ron would take personal shit out of his collection, record it, and then put it out.

DAN: Why do you love playing records?

GENE: If you’re playing records and the record skips or the record jumps or gets dirty, that’s the fun about it. You’re really up there doing it. You’re really conducting music in a sense, to make it realistic to everybody in the room. The warm sound of a good quality recording and the fidelity that comes out of those speakers, the sound and the feeling of it, it doesn’t sound processed, it’s a real live feeling, it doesn’t have a synthetic feel whatsoever. That’s the importance of playing vinyl. The tape hiss. That analogue thickness. That warmth. It’s different from some shit being processed and watered down. It sounds too perfect. It has to be a little dirty. It has to have a little dirt, a little grunge in it to get with the natural aspect, to make it more organic.

It’s like some broccoli, if you overcook it. You cook all the nutrients out of it and you lose that crunch to it. It’s soggy and synthetic. You want to have warm and organic attributes to get the natural aspect of what you’re doing. That’s why it’s so valuable to play wax.

[Gene is eating a forkful of broccoli at this point]

Dan: What is your state of mind when you’re DJing? Do you get nervous?

GENE: Not really. I know I have a job to do. I have to entertain a room full of people for a number of hours so I have to get everybody on the same page. So based on the way that I feel emotionally – If I got personal problems at home, or I’m going through some shit I’m taking my problems out on the dancefloor. So they’re loving it, and it’s helping me get through my problems. Because I’m unleashing the way that I’m feeling, I’m expressing myself to a room full of people. My car got towed, I got tickets, some shit happened, so I’m going to take it out on you guys and you’re going to love it. I like to tell a story when I play. I like to give you past, present and future. I want to give you aspects of where I started and where I came from. Let you know what’s going on in the now, and tell you things about where I want to go. It’s like a rollercoaster – you anticipate, and you go up, but you don’t know when the drop is coming. My advice is to never plan what you do. Because I want to enjoy it just as much as you want to enjoy dancing.

DAN: What do you think about EDM?

GENE: It has its moments. If you come from Chicago which is the Mecca of house music, obviously, you should have some form of education and history. You hear EDM stuff in a club – I went through this a couple of weeks ago –  I’m like, “Why would they put me on to headline and they got this person and that person” It puts me in a challenging state because here I am in a room full of people who don’t have a clue about what they’re dancing to – but it feels good to them. It’s a mind opener.

DAN: Would you play a disco record to an EDM crowd?

GENE: Yes. Most definitely. I wouldn’t hesitate. I’m relentless. “Alright, they’re digging that. Let’s try this.”

I still hear Ron in my head saying, “Don’t rush that record out, you better let that record finish.”

DAN: And back to Ron – how was it working for him?

GENE: Pins and needles. Out the blue. It was scary. You never knew when he wanted to take a break – he would just say, “Get on.”

There wasn’t a plan, like, “You’re going to play 11:30 or 12:30.”

He would just play a record and then go out the back and chill out. 

“Go ahead, get on.”

He’d be back there taking a nap.

I used to open up. If I was five minutes late and he gave me shit about it. At the very last Music Box – 2210 South Michigan was the very last one. I was like less than five minutes late.

“You have to be punctual, you gotta be on time.”

I’m like, “It’s nine fifty!”

“You should be here at nine thirty.”

He was in my ass because I was there at nine fifty. Subliminal mind games that just got me fucking rugged. And Frankie was the same way with me. I would pick him up – Frankie Knuckles does not drive, Frankie Knuckles does not drive a car, he’s terrified of driving a car. You have to drive him. I would meet him and he would give me music. “Give it to so-and-so, give it to so-and-so, don’t give it to so-and-so.” Specific instructions. Ron was the opposite. But they both respected one another and they were both training me.” They saw a young kid that was ambitious.

Gene Hunt

DAN: How did Frankie’s style differ to Ron’s?

GENE: Very similar and yet different. They both played the same music, they both played the same things. But the way they played them was totally different. Frankie was real sexy with it, real smooth. Ron was more aggressive. It was like passive and aggressive. But you wanted both aspects. In Chicago you couldn’t have one without the other.

DAN: Describe your style…

GENE: [smiles] That’s a good one. Once I get in the groove I want to stay in that groove. I don’t want to have any intermissions. I’m relentless. Once I get it going and once I get everybody into that mode. I keep that flavour going. I want to keep that room and give it bounce. We gotta have some vocals, we gotta have some live drums, we gotta have some groovy shit, we gotta have some sexy shit. I want to give you a four course meal of music.

DAN: Who are your current favourite Chicago DJs?

GENE: My girl Serena – CZ Boogie. She owns a publication called 5 Magazine which is like the house music almanac when it comes to parties.

Czboogie & guest Lurob on the 5 Magazine Show on CHFM by CZBOOGIE

We have a group in Chicago called The Untouchables – it’s me, Farley (Jackmaster Funk), Paul Johnson, a guy named DJ Box, Craig Alexander and CZ Boogie – so it’s the six of us.

How is the gay scene in Chicago?

Off the chain. It’s off the chain. We got a night on Sunday called “Queen” at Smart Bar. It just so happened that the person who does this night owns Gramaphone [legendary Chicago record emporium] – Michael Serafini. The night is explosive. Frankie’s birthday was ridiculous. You had Louie Vega, you had David Morales, you had Derrick Carter. All star lineup. You couldn’t move in the place.

Join the Chapter 10 group: here

Mr Ties

By Charlie Porter

Mr Ties is a DJ who lives in Berlin.

He runs the monthly party Homopatik, which starts at 23.59 on a Friday night, and runs to 10pm the next day.

During it, he plays for many hours at a time, at different times, for fun.

For him, playing records is a pleasure.

This is Mr. Ties at Homopatik in the summer.

Mr Ties At Homopatik

Here’s Mr Ties on The Bandwagon in the summer – go straight to 55mins for the start of a Mr Ties two hour mix.


Video streaming by Ustream

He’s amazing.

And next Saturday, October 12, he’s coming to London.

To play at first chapter of a new gay party, Chapter 10.

At Dance Tunnel.

Mr Ties!

His real name is Francesco, and he comes from Italy. I spoke with him on Skype earlier in the week, to chat about how he came to play records, and how his style has evolved. As with all conversations, I’ve kept the words as they were actually said. I could translate Francesco’s words into cleaner English, but then they would entirely loose their character. I’ve kept everything as he said it, occasionally adding explanations if I think it needs it. Francesco has a cold, and has a hoodie over his head. He’s drinking a coloured liquid from an old water bottle. When I turn the machine on, I’m asking him if he’s feeling OK…

FRANCESCO: Nothing I think it’s a bit cold. Where I was in Sweden and so that’s it.

ME: You got the first winter chill

Yeah I was a bit light dressed in Sweden, so it gets me a bit fucked up.

It’s in your bones.

It is like I am cold. I am coughing sometimes.

Are you going to Istanbul tomorrow to get in the heat.

Yeah. I’m going there for one week.

And you played in Sweden at the weekend?

I was playing in Malmo, in this club called Babel. The location was nice but you know the clubs in Sweden are a bit fucked up.

In what way?

Because they have a closing time at 3am, and I come from Berlin…

Where 3am’s barely the opening time

Yeah, my party, I open at midnight usually, on Fridays.

So tell me a bit about how you got started playing records. What was your route into it?

I was 18 years old I think. I was together with a DJ, he was like a soulful house DJ. At the time it was really funny because I did not appreciate house at that time, I was totally listening to electro, breakbeat, Warp stuff, and so at the time I thought, OK he had records at home, I just one time said I want to try it too. He said, take the first beat and flow it with the other one, are you going to make it? And I did it, and I already had fun with it.

I thought like, OK, I want to have my records, so I could play my records. So I started to collect my own records. And then I realised the record is a pretty unique acoustic medium. It’s different from MP3s or the digital medium. And then I had my little record collection. And then I moved to Berlin.

Where were you when you were 18?

I was in Rome. At the time I remember I bought different records like electro or electroclash, or like drum and bass, breakbeat, a bit house, a bit disco, all this stuff together.

Why did you move to Berlin? Was it the clubs?

Not really the clubs. I just wanted to change city from Rome, and at the time I didn’t have the chance to look and see which was the city for me. Just one shot, there you go – OK, I’ll move to Berlin. I said to myself either I go to Berlin or I go to San Francisco. Or I go to Tokyo. And then in the end I went to Berlin. And it was nice. It was really nice. Also the time that I came was really nice Berlin.

When did you arrive?

Was 2006, 2005. And was like really super nice. The city was still keeping this old charm, now that is really not there. The emptiness charm.

When there were still things that were kept as they’d been.

Yeah when there were less shops around. Now it’s like all over shops. All the businesses.

What were you doing when you first moved there?

I was living in a squat house in Friedrichshain, for a couple of months, and nothing, I went like often to parties and had fun with friends. It was a really moving situation [he means it was fluid]. I remember squats then were all doors open, and really free, really open to everyone. And that’s it.

And so it was a complete immediate change from Rome.

Yeah, Rome is a beautiful city, but I lived there for 9 years and I wanted to see something else. Like right now I’m going to Istanbul because I want to see something else.

When did you start playing records out?

The first time I played in a club? I played already in Italy at different times. At the time I didn’t have a record player at home, so me going to a location to play was the only chance for me to listen to my records too. So it’s like, at the time I was forced to find gigs. I just wanted to listen to my records.

That was in Berlin or in Rome?

This was in Rome. Then after a while I was in Berlin, and I started to play also in Berlin. I played in a bar every Monday, playing in a bar on Monday night. That was Barbie Deinhoff’s. I just played the things that I liked. Always.

It seems that you play records that you like, but they’re records that people want to hear.

Yeah but sometimes you recognise you don’t have to play what people like to hear. I have to play what I like to hear. I can really play with it. If I know that someone doesn’t like that, I can just play that till they’re leaving the dancefloor. It’s like, you can do the opposite.

But that makes it interesting to be playing records.

Yeah I hope I can show them a bit what I have to say, it’s simple like this. It’s like you just play records that you like, and some people like it, sometimes all the people like it, sometimes nobody likes it.

And if nobody likes it you play something else.

Yeah I can also switch it, if that doesn’t work, OK, 10, 9, 8, 7, here comes another one. This is a good DJ, when you still have the control. So it’s still like, you can still fade out to something else, or even create with the record something else that would fit better in the context.

The thing I find interesting is the tension between you and the room.

Yeah me I actually don’t, I just do it. I don’t have all this thinking actually. For me it’s I just play some records, you know. For me, I’m not a fetishist. For me, if I do a good mix, it pushes me to do much more crazy stuff than anything else.

When did you start doing your first night?

My first club? I did some parties in Berghain Cantina before, and then in other locations but now they are not anymore there. And then I started to do the party in About Blank, and it was on Wednesday night, but the club was still illegal, and we could not write the address [he means publicise the address], it was super indie, and so it was pretty nice but there were just our 150 friends, and then the club closed for a while because they had a problem, and then they opened again, and when they opened again I decided, OK, I’m going to start doing one Friday [a month], instead of doing it weekly, I started to do one Friday, that’s it. And it was already going pretty big from the first one. It was like, boom.

It worked.

It worked. We did a really crazy flyer for that night. You saw it?

I’d like to see it.

[Mr Ties starts typing and sends a link through Skype, and sends the following flyer]

Homopatik flyer

Very jolly.

This was the time still when we were doing the flyer. Then we stopped doing flyers.

Why did you stop?

Because the party was already super big.

You had no need.

Exactly. And it was also like it became much more underground you know.

I love how you start it at 23.59.

What do you mean?

As in one minute to midnight.

Yeah we have this crazy start. I used these wrongs [he means mistakes]. There are a lot of wrongs in the flyers, grammar wrongs.

Does the club have a set closing time, or does it close whenever you want

Normally we close at 10 at night of the day after. It has developed like this. The first time we did Homopatik, it was maybe like at 1 o clock in the afternoon. Then it was 2 o’clock. Until we reached 10 o’clock in the night. And then we started to always do 10 o’clock in the night. 10 o’clock in the night. 10 o’clock in the night.

And that’s how it is now.

Now it’s 10 o’clock in the night, and sometimes in the summer we do some special, we do like all the weekend, from Friday past Saturday and the party continues.

Is there a time when you like playing records, or does it not matter?

I don’t know because it’s my party, and I like always to play at my party. It’s like, my party is different, because I play so many different hours. Like before, for a lot of years, I played just from the morning time til 10 o’clock in the night. And then I started to break this tradition. And then I started to play at peak time in the house floor, or peak time in the techno floor. Let other people play at the end.

So it could depend on who the guests are.

Hmmm, no. no. It’s just I play in all the rooms at Homopatik, it’s my party. Sometimes I play spontaneously, just some records. To have fun with my friends.

It sounds really super fun. It’s interesting for a club to be based around fun.

I don’t know. At least I’m basing it around fun.

If you’re playing on vinyl for so long, how many bags of records do you take?

When I go to Homopatik I have three bags. I need help with them. Imagine three bags, 60 kilo alone is a bit much. Four I did once in my life. Also if you carry record bags for one hour, it’s a bit of a gym.

What’s the difference between playing at your own party and like when you come to ours?

When I play in UK, I try always to play more vocal stuff, because I cannot play it usually in Berlin, it’s not that I cannot play it, but less people understand the sense of the records. There I can play really nice songs.

Is it a different thought process when it’s a shorter set, or is it still spontaneous?

It’s spontaneous. You just have some records in your bag, and it’s like I want to play this this and this at this point.

Well I hope we can make it fun for you at Chapter 10.

I think I will have fun for sure. A lot of people have talked me good about the place. Like everyone actually. Ah yeah, really good. But there when does it close for example.

At three.

Also at three [we both laugh].

That’s why when you were said about Sweden closing at 3am, I didn’t say anything. Welcome to Britain.

This is actually all around like this right now, like it’s all around becoming like this. My fear is in a city like Berlin they want to apply for this, I think they will not because they will destroy the economy of the city it would be not good, but in Rome they stop selling alcohol at 2, they close at 4, or all around it’s like this. This imposing of the state of when we have to dance or not dance. If you think about it, it is super strange, you say to the people when they can dance, or when they can’t dance. It’s just for that. When don’t you tell me when to go to the toilet or not? It’s like. It’s like this.

But the sad thing is it’s stuck here in this way of thinking.

They were the first one [he means the people now in authority], you understand, they were the first party generation. Now they want to be moralists. Like OK.

Pretending they never went out.

And the thing is, when it’s a club that’s always open, there are just normal people who go to the club. It’s a strange situation.

[And with that, I let Francesco go get some rest, and go get better]

Aaaah he’s so lovely!

Mr Ties.

On Saturday 12 October.

Chapter 10.

Dance Tunnel.

Here’s the poster.

Chapter 10 Poster

Oh yeah I didn’t mention – I’m playing records too, with Dan Beaumont, before Mr Ties.

Actual real life records.

It’ll be super fun.

Come!

Click here for the fancy Facebook page thingy…

I’m off on holiday to get myself ready.

Get a tan so I look right nice in, um, a near pitch black room with a smoke machine and a laser.

Oh…

See you on Saturday!xxx

Photo Credit Christian Olofsson via Resident Advisor