Beats pounding from every crevice at every hour, yards of bared flesh at each turn, herds of eternally smashed spring breakers (who needs cloning?) and copious amounts of pharmaceutical dance companions were just a few of the diversions served up by the ninth annual Winter Music Conference in Miami last week. |
The "conference" itself is a showcase for dance music of every stripe -- house, techno, trance, drum 'n' bass and every hyphenated hybrid in between -- and there was easily enough of the good stuff to go around. The schedule was jam-packed with big names like Daft Punk (who played twice), Fatboy Slim, Roni Size, Kruder & Dorfmeister, Lil' Louie Vega and Tony Humphries, Prince Paul, Carl Craig's Paperclip People and Carl Cox. Of course, with a seemingly infinite supply of perfect clubs, dazzling architecture, sun-drenched days on the beach and expense accounts galore, they could have been playing Celine Dion remixes all night and people still would have had fun.
Recent developments in the scene were on display early. The Astralwerks-sponsored opening night party at the Cameo Theater, which featured sets by Fatboy Slim, Daft Punk and Cassius, was teeming with people asking "Who's playing now?" To ask which DJ is "playing," reflects a subtle but significant shift in perception, a newfound respect for the DJ's art. The difference was further driven home by the lack of cheesy house or trance tunes, and the power of Norman Cook (a k a Fatboy) to effortlessly whip the crowd into a frenzy with a live mix of big beats and his own big hits.
It was hard not to attain dance-floor bliss the following night in the hands of a few deft DJs who are among the leaders of their respective musical styles. Chris Brann, who churns out unique underground dance music from Atlanta as part of the Wamdue Kids, got the party started right in the tented back parlor of the Living Room. Things got hectic later, though, at Chaos, where Detroit techno pioneer Juan Atkins killed it (this year's catchphrase) with lethal, minimal rhythms and textures, many of them his own productions. (The club shut down soon after his set when a man inside died, reportedly from GHB-related causes.) The surprise hit of the conference, and one of the few "hot" unsigned acts this year, was Basement Jaxx, a London funky-house duo who ripped up the Cameo Sunday night with their heavy beats and plodding bass. Basement Jaxx's filtered-vocal, Daft Punk-esque single, "Rendez-Vu," got a ton of play in Miami, and with the Jaxx amid a U.S. bidding war, look for them blow up later this summer.
When frat-boy herds jammed Collins Ave. outside the Mission on Monday night (where Daft Punk, the Jaxx and others were playing), the World of Drum 'N' Bass party at Club Salvation became the default destination. Conversations about the downward slide of drum 'n' bass -- both as a scene in the U.S. and as a creative musical art form -- were common this year. Indeed, the staccato rhythms that seemed like the beat of life not so long ago sounded stagnant and tepid this time round, although the kids at Salvation were enjoying themselves, even if they weren't dancing that much. The party, featuring Fabio, Grooverider, Bryan Gee and other British DJs, was most notable for the rocking set by DJ Rap, one of the only women behind the decks the entire week.
Contrasting the tech-step tedium the next night were the sonic delicacies to be tasted at the party hosted by Planet E Communications, the innovative Detroit techno label headed by Carl Craig. Planet E's stars are the underappreciated legends of a city whose music has helped define techno culture since its birth there in the early Eighties, and its younger artists are among the few pushing music forward. Kevin Saunderson, one of the true techno originators, played edgy, spellbinding records that conjured a world we don't yet know, and Craig performed a majestic, if slightly abbreviated, set under his primary recording alias, Paperclip People. Perhaps as a metaphor for the conference itself -- and even for electronic music as a whole -- Detroit techno has existed healthily at the margins of the mainstream for many years, a bit too disheveled to plot world domination, but also having too much fun to really care.
ERIC DEMBY
(March 23, 1999)