The beginning… the ultimate post-piknic.
Tonight I experienced the perfect digestif of a weekend that was already packed with beats — but one that could always take more when it came to dancing.
(You understand, like me, those who are starved for VIBE — it's never enough, right?)
Though he made a late but powerful entrance — eagerly awaited by the dancers — I must absolutely confirm that he made up for the lost minutes twice over, because he spoiled us.
My God.
Last night at the Stereobar turntables, we had a Jedi of rhythmic understanding — of tension-building and beat explosions that release so many endorphins.
Beyond that, the dance structures were quadraphonic, perfectly synchronized, extremely well telegraphed — like highway signs.
It was inevitable to jump exactly into the gap as it appeared — with an absolutely satisfying delight.
These hyper-rhythmic segments, plunged into bass lines of cataclysmic depth, were simply straight out of the textbooks.
As an illustration of the intrinsic mechanisms induced by this musical language, it was the exact representation.
Those who were there and heard his music know exactly what I'm referring to — it was candy to dance to, to devour, to explode, to share.
Pure delight.
On every square foot of the floor.
A dancer is like a toy whose springs you wind up, put under tension, make them wait for the explosion (in the breaks and power-ups), then suddenly release the tension (the drop).
The better the music is constructed, the more it announces the upcoming structure in advance, unconsciously preparing the dancer to follow the natural harmonic and tonal sequences through anticipatory "signal" cues.
This is the entire art of great mixers who know how to prepare the audience's mindset before each major entrance of a new musical piece.
The excellent ones create long mixes that announce themselves well in advance — long before you've recognized the track.
And the longer the mixes are, well-crafted and incorporating loops, the more natural it feels — and the less you even notice, in fact.
Until you find yourself already in the next track.
And then you realize you've been caught.
And we love it.
Excellent musical constructions always announce themselves well in advance, with tremendous symmetry, and allow dancers to intuitively know exactly when it's going to drop or explode.
We've talked about this before.
It also comes down mainly to constructions based on factors of 4.
Almost everything in today's electronic music is built on the number 4.
So it's always:
4 x 4 x 4 x 4…
and so on.
4 beats.
In a loop repeated four times (16 beats).
Which itself doubles to 32.
Then to 64.
Then to 128.
And all that time, you hear a sound appearing well in advance.
Then it appears again, a little later.
Again, a little later.
But you always know where it's going to appear, because there are musical sequences that present themselves and prepare your ear by giving you cues.
The better the rhythmic mapping is presented — the more regular, well-constructed, and intuitive the track — the easier it is for dancers to surrender completely to the rhythm and to the DJ's absolute control of the room.
The better organized the music — well-announced and responding precisely to anticipated phase changes — the better dancers respond, screaming, with an immense orgasmic, dopaminergic, endorphin release that constantly floods the reward nucleus, which responds to periods of stress, tension, and release.
The entire mechanics of the dance experience in the venues we frequent is an amalgam of excitement.
Sensory stimulation through our sense of hearing.
The physical sensation of the body receiving bass waves.
And the ears, of course, taking in the frequencies of the music.
These senses allow us to experience music in our bodies, manifesting our interpretation of the rhythms through sequenced, stereotypical movements, in cadence and synchrony with the music.
There is in this a deeply satisfying and entirely organic aspect of short-term physiological response, yet one that fills an immense attentional spectrum in our consciousness and our brain.
The artist themselves must possess an understanding of their music and how to showcase it to make it exquisite for the dancers.
The good DJ honours the artist who originally composed the track and serves the dancers by maximizing everything the track can give — for the pure joy of the beat tappers.
A DJ who is consistent and reliable in their delivery of dopamine attracts great loyalty from dancers who show up to their events to be fed exactly what they love.
Without being vulgar, I would draw a comparison to a sexually happy couple.
One needs the other to flourish and truly connect, in fact, with themselves.
It is through the other that we truly let go, surrender — and in fact find ourselves.
But this doesn't happen on its own.
The DJ needs the dancers to push their art to its fullest.
The dancer needs the DJ to carry them through the musical frequencies to the very best of what they can be.
Because what is good for one dancer is not necessarily so for another — at the same level, in the same way.
But there are so-called universal DJs who manage to make an entire floor lose all sense of dignity — for a moment or for hours.
When people completely forget themselves and start dancing and grooving all together, following the DJ blindly and synchronizing with each other — it is just absolutely wonderful.
And that is where we become We Are One.
(Mantra 8, I believe.)
I personally experienced a dance experience that connected me deeply to myself and allowed me to truly explode all the energy and sequences of my body.
In terms of musical delivery, it was absolutely impeccable.
With revisited old classics that demolished our heads and hips.
In great complicity with the other dancer or dancers around us.
It was so much fun.
I love watching people completely lose their composure and dance like animals, making faces and gestures of great wild mammals.
Laughing.
Bursting out laughing.
And not giving a damn about how they look.
It is absolutely magnificent!
And it's such a trip when you start dancing with another dancer you don't know at all, but the two of you are just exactly in the same place, at the same moment, in the same way.
Not a single word is needed.
You're dancing, goddammit.
Thank you, Eric L., for Les Beaux Dimanches.
For me, it is the Sunday of Sundays of the weekend — it crystallizes all the good intentions and encounters of the week, closes conversations or surplus energy, and promises everyone a great week ahead, the body filled with stored beats and movements.
Thank you Stereobar for making this place exist.
Big love to the dancers.
You make the night.
With the music.
The atmosphere.
The vibe.
Sick.
Elio:
Thank you.
It was impeccable.
