Two parties this weekend (three if you count my iPod admin at a loft party downtown late Sat night, but we'll leave that one out). Friday night was a favor for a friend. I played at a USC house party for $80. Major favor. I have to admit though, that although college students are mostly loser assholes when it comes to being DJ customers, the crowd were relatively mellow and into what I was laying down. I got tons of compliments, three referrals and attention from a perky white girl who seemed kind of dejected when I mentioned my girlfriend. Actually, what am I saying? That party fucking ruled. Mostly because there was a dance circle of 4-6 chunky lesbian Latinas who aggressively shared my penchant for 90s R&B party bangers and contemporary radio rap with lots of hand claps and choruses about rubbing things, licking things, touching things and fucking things.
Every gig I play, I pick out my go-to dancers in my head. These are the people who I know will dance when everyone else is too shy. I try to make them happy. Usually if they are happy, everyone is reasonably happy. Maybe it's just because my mom is a big gay (NO ON 8, by the way! Spread the word...) but it seems that my go-too crowd are getting butcher, fatter and funkier lately.
If I keep on this track, I'm going to be sharing empanada recipes with crew-cut chola dykes in 10 years, talking shit about how they don't make good music like Moris Day and the Time anymore.
Pic #2 above is from the aftermath of the USC party. The plague of red cups are a historical legend. Those red party cups were actually the 11th plague of Egypt, somehow left out of the English translation of the Old Testament. If you peep the original Hebrew you can read all about drunken college sluts dropping those motherfuckers all over the house of the Pharoah's front lawn after every rager until the Pharoah let the Jews go. For real. Check it out. It's in there. Or just... you know... go to college for a month. You'll see.
Speaking of biblical things, I played a great party Saturday night for a bunch of nice Orange County church folk. I usually don't leave LA County for a gig, but these people seemed nice. I was handsomely rewarded with a $50 tip and (get this:) a dance circle of 6-8 black kids (how'd they get into Irvine? JK. Sorry) fucking CRUMPING. These kids gave me an iPod to play (normally against my policy, see previous entries) with some instrumental Hyphy jams, and then proceeded to dance battle each other for half an hour. I scratched some vocal samples over their mix in an attempt to be helpful, but they were way more interested in their friends battling each other. And for good reason! These kids could have thrown down with any of the fools in that Rize movie. No bullshit.
Mom and dad sprung for a ton of cool lighting effects, too. That's the full blacklight situation they got in the picture above. They gave me a cool T-Shirt, too. Dad works for a custom guitar company and couldn't resist showing me pictures on his BlackBerry of him partying with rock stars. Mom seemed like a pleasantly plump OC M.I.L.F.
I know there's a big anti-Christian, anti-Orange County, anti-soccer movement amongst most of my peers, but I say fuck it. Let those people do their thing. God knows the kids are just going to grow up and rebel politely while attending college, just like us.They'll probably go to USC, too. Maybe they can teach the non-chunky-lesbian party constituency how to dance.
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