Over the past few months, whenever someone would ask me about my plans for Memorial Day weekend, my response had been “I’m going to Detroit.” Looks of deep confusion, concern, and sometimes shock would inevitably follow – as if I had just told them I was volunteering to have my arms amputated for no particular reason. It’s a shared source of amusement for techno-heads like me. Year after year, we flock to a city many people consider one of the most unsavory places in the US. All for the love of music.
This year would be my second attendance of DEMF. I popped my Detroit cherry last year, along with several other friends, and the experience left me wanting more. This time around Paxahau truly outdid themselves, making it abundantly clear they too are doing it for the love of music. Five stages, greatly improved sound, and a surprisingly smooth and enjoyable operation all around. Generally I associate music festivals with the terms “ripoff” and “clusterfuck” but thus far, DEMF has proven to be the complete opposite. The Paxahau crew’s dedication to making DEMF enjoyable to all was easily apparent everywhere you looked. Staff were friendly and courteous. Posted set-times were followed to a T. Prices for food and drink were kept respectably low. Having attended other large electronic music festivals *cough* Ultra *cough* where you are made to feel more like cattle being herded to the slaughter, DEMF really is a breath of fresh air, and not just because of the unique music. There is an atmosphere of freedom and openness about DEMF that I’ve yet to experience at another event of that size. Hell, even if it had been an oppressive stockade, at $40 for three days, there ain’t much you can complain about.
Since my return home, I’ve heard several DEMF veterans remark that this was the best festival to date. There were also several first-timers (of which there were many from DC and NYC this year) who were quick to express their immense satisfaction and joy over attending – some even going so far as to say it was better than the big daddy of North American electronic music festivals: the Winter Music Conference in Miami.
For all the flak Detroit gets for being a dark, gloomy, and decrepit place, Hart Plaza, at least, is surpassingly cheery, inviting, and almost picturesque, right up against the waterfront. The gods smiled on festival-goers this year, as there was near-perfect weather for all three days. Sunshine greeted me from the moment I left my hotel room, and wouldn’t cease until a very brief rain shower on Monday night. I even came back from Detroit with a tan – I’ll bet the nay-sayers back home weren’t expecting that! Nights were slightly chilly, but it was nothing a hoodie couldn’t handle. Indeed the cool air down by the waterfront was rather welcome, as dancing all day along side several hundred other bodies can get quite sweaty.
This year, I arrived in Detroit the night before DEMF began. I was happy to find that sharing my flight were several of my friends from DC. Upon arrival at DTW we met up with even more companions who had flown in from the New York area, all of whom were first-timers. The bulk of our group, staying at the Marriott Courtyard Downtown, spitting distance from Hart Plaza, made plans to go to dinner that night. When visiting Detroit, the question “where the hell do you eat?” is one that frequently finds its way into your conversations. Last year I had happened upon a place called Jacoby’s, just several blocks from the Courtyard or Hart Plaza. Billing itself as a “German Bier Garten,” it immediately grabbed my attention. Unfortunately last year it had been closed whenever I went by. So our crew went in, not entirely sure what to expect, and were pleasantly surprised. I wouldn’t call it fine dining, but the food was good (bitchin’ potato salad, latkes, brats, and other German fare), the beer selection (featuring a good amount of German brews) was probably one of the better available in downtown Detroit, and the prices were very respectable (finding something overpriced in Detroit actually takes some work).
Our stomachs full and spirits high, we made our way to Bleu nightclub for the official DEMF opening party, “Start the Feed.” I’d been curious to check out Bleu for a while, as it is downtown Detroit’s most commercially prominent EDM venue. We arrived to the sounds of Efdemin, soon followed by the always smiling Detroit-native Ryan Elliott. Both sets were on-point, but not overwhelming. Just the right music to get you excited for the days to come, but not to tire you too quick of it. Immediately bumping into several other friends from across the US, I knew it was going to be a great weekend. As for the club itself, I wasn’t too impressed. Most notably, the soundsystem was very disappointing, sounding muddy and dull unless you were directly in front of a speaker. There were also two large speaker stacks on either side of the DJ booth that were not in use whatsoever – not sure what that was about. The rest of the venue seemed to be your pretty standard nightclub: a bar here, some lights, and a raised bottle service area around the perimeter. I ventured into the lower level only for a very brief period. The air down there was so thick and muggy you had to push your way through it. This sweatbox atmosphere seemed to be a trend that unfortunately popped up at almost every other afterparty that weekend. The most interesting part of the club for me was the upper level, which resembles a movie-theatre balcony. I only managed to check it out for a quick stint as a VIP bracelet was required for access, which my friend managed to get me just before I ended up leaving. The majority of my cohorts and I decided to call it an early night and turn in for some much needed sleep before the feats of endurance to come. I believe I clocked in somewhere around 9 hours – a record for DEMF weekend I’m sure.
FESTIVAL – DAY ONE
Fully rested, I got up not long after noon on Saturday and decided to mosey on over to Greektown – a block-or-two area in downtown Detroit full of Greek businesses and restaurants (and probably your best bet for regular dining). While browsing menus posted in windows, not quite sure where to eat, I bumped into two more friends from Virginia who were already eating in a restaurant, and joined them for a quick bite. Afterwards we decided to take the Detroit People Mover (a small monorail system) to the festival, which I had been told was a must for the “real” Detroit experience.
I spent Saturday at the festival bouncing between the Beatport Stage and the Vitamin Water Main Stage, as I would for most of DEMF. It was only the first day, and already the amount of incredible music to choose from was overwhelming. Upon my arrival to the main stage, I was greeted by the deep, dubby, and soothing sounds of Deepchord’s “Echospace” live performance. I then wandered over to the Beatport stage just to take a gander at the area where I would be spending a good chunk of my DEMF experience. I was thoroughly impressed with the changes made to the Beatport stage this year. Not only was the soundsystem drastically improved (it was pretty clear no matter where you went, as opposed to last year where much of the tent was just “rumble”), but the structural design of the enclosure itself was also a step up. As opposed to last year’s tent setup, this year featured more of an open-air design, covered by a high-ceilinged canopy. Not only did this make for much easier movement in and out of the area, but allowed for superior ventilation as nice breezes could come in and cool you down just when you needed it. After a light snacking of Brian Kage and Luke Hess’ set, I returned to the main stage just in time for the opening beats of Half Hawaii - live.
Half Hawaii had been one of the main acts I was interested in seeing this DEMF. Comprised of Sammy Dee and Bruno Pronsato, masters in their own right of Perlon and Hello?Repeat fame respectively, I expected nothing short of awesome. The performance consisted of deep hypnotic tones accompanied by bright tropical percussion and distorted vocals courtesy of Pronsato. Just the type of stuff I’ve been digging lately. Their all-too-short set was followed appropriately by a (lengthy for a festival) two-hour DJ set from Perlon label boss Zip.
Playing a set full of the distinct Perlon sound, Zip prolonged the deep bumping rhythmic musical climate. I couldn’t stick around to analyze his tracks however, as smack-dab in the middle of Zip’s timeslot was yet another performance I’d been dying to see: Joris Voorn live! I had seen Joris play a DJ set last year, but heard from many sources that it was nothing compared to his Live-PA. Though Zip’s set was fantastic, I had no qualms leaving it behind to rush over to the Beatport stage for Voorn, whose productions I’ve been a huge fan of for years.
Voorn did not disappoint. With sweeping synths, grooving housey overtones, and pure techno percussion, he took the crowd by storm, impressing more than a few of my friends who didn’t know what to expect from him.
After what felt like no time at all, his set came to a close with his monster of a track “MPX-309.” Shaking my head out of the daze Voorn stuck me in, I rushed back over to the main stage to catch the remainder of Zip’s set, which thankfully overlapped Voorn’s with enough time to enjoy both. As the sky grew dark, DEMF had yet to exhaust its supply of techno giants for day one.
In these days where most Live-PA’s consist of nothing more than a laptop running “Ableton Live!” and a MIDI controller, leave it to the so-called godfather of minimal techno, Dan Bell, to show ‘em how it’s done. Rolling out with a giant array of analogue hardware, Dan Bell’s live DBX performance was a rare treat indeed. Unfortunately, with more parts, there inevitably comes more problems, and Mr. Bell’s set was slightly mired by an equipment failure that caused a lengthy delay into the start of his set and what I would assume to be a slightly irregular performance. While I certainly didn’t protest an extension in Zip’s set, it was saddening that Bell’s set was so short, as Moby came on promptly at his given timeslot, despite Bell’s late start. I enjoyed the short-lived moment of DBX-infused bliss, and then headed back over to the Beatport stage, where Alex Smoke’s live performance was already underway.
Alex Smoke was easily the highlight of Saturday’s festival for me. Shuffling and bumpy beats, throbbing with energy, exploded out of the speakers. This is what modern techno is all about, and there was nothing “minimal” about it. Smoke himself, exuded the same feeling as his music, energetically bouncing along, making it difficult for me to get a still shot of him. Every now and then, a little bit of acid would snake its way through Smoke’s beats giving it a nice edge found in few other sets I heard that weekend. Following Smoke was the other Alex of note in today’s techno scene: Alex Under.
Also with a live performance, Under too was one of the standout sets at DEMF this year. With a more toned-down energy than Smoke, Under delivered the throbbing beats at a slightly more danceable tempo. There were no particular tracks that stood out in either set, but I see this as a good thing, in that the sets as a whole were excellent, with sounds gracefully flowing into one another and not relying on recognizable jams to get the crowd moving.
Leaving just before the end of Under’s set, my first day of the festival had come to an end, though my night was just beginning.
SATURDAY NIGHT – THE OTHER NINE TO FIVE @ BERT’S ON BROADWAY
On Saturday night, I decided to avoid the whole M_nus hullabaloo of “Contakt” and opted instead for what promised to be the more down-to-earth of the big afterparties that night: “The Other Nine to Five” at Bert’s on Broadway. Helping the decision process along was a lineup consisting of both current favorites and acts I was eager to see. I had managed to lure enough of my friends away from the intrigue of the Cube earlier in the week, so the night looked to be a nice relaxed outing with good music and good friends. After freshening up a bit, I walked the several blocks from my hotel to Bert’s.
Bert’s was virgin territory to me, so upon arrival there was a bit of confusion. The main entrance lead to what appeared to be a run of the mill hip-hop bar night. After looking around a bit, I noticed a smaller side entrance which housed a staircase that brought you up to the top two levels of Bert’s, where the VOLATL-hosted party actually was. The second level of Bert’s looked like a fairly modern trendy bar, with high ceilings, hardwood floors, and a large front window looking out onto the street. The third level was what some of my friends lovingly (or not) referred to as a “crack house.” Having never been to a crack house, I can neither confirm nor deny this. The top floor was dark, barren of most furniture or decoration, and had a folding table set up as a makeshift bar. I surmised that this is where the “real” partying would be taking place (boy was I ever right). Both floors had separate DJ booths and soundsystems, which explained how they planned on fitting all those DJ’s into a party that (officially) ended at 5am. Most of the night proceeded as I had assumed: a chill time hanging out with friends and dancing to expectedly good sets from the likes of Camea, Kate Simko, and Adultnapper. Regrettably, two of the artists I had been looking forward to seeing for the first time ultimately failed to impress me. After Camea, the tag-team duo of Miss Fitz and K.atou took the decks on the second floor. Having been a huge fan of Miss Fitz’s productions lately, I was excited to see what she had to offer. While the tracks she played were great – full of tribal percussion and groovey basslines – her set suffered incredibly from a complete lack of mixing skills. [A]ppendics.shuffle’s live PA (which I had also been eagerly looking forward to) was my other personal letdown of the night – more on this in a bit.
As the night progressed, things began to get a bit weird. Okay, they got very weird. About halfway through the night, someone busted out a giant tank full of nitrous oxide. They then began filling balloons with the nitrous and selling them as “whippits” to anyone who desired one. This occurred to me as a pretty strange thing, as I had never seen such a blatant and public display of “drug sales” before. The legality of something like that was fairly iffy I’m sure. I was informed later by several people that doing this is indeed a Detroit “tradition.” I’m not some sort of anti-drug prude by any stretch of the imagination, in fact quite the opposite, so I shrugged it off and went on dancing. There’s only so much you can ignore though. Pretty soon the third floor was full of mangled people falling on themselves all over the dancefloor, sucking on two, sometimes three balloons at a time. As the scene became increasingly disturbing, several of my friends were inclined to leave. One particular performer partook in the festivities a bit too much. I can’t help but believe this is what ruined said live PA for me. We all enjoy getting wasted here and there, and those of us in this scene will know that it comes with the DJ territory quite often. When it gets to the point that it severely detriments your musical performance however, I consider it a problem. As such, the live PA consisted of several “technical difficulties” and lengthy stretches of time where music just seemed to be looping, as the performer was simply too wasted to do much else. I didn’t let this put a bad spin on my night though, and left satisfied and in good spirits at around 5:30am (I was told it ran on much later) only in the interest of resting.
FESTIVAL – DAY TWO
A strong desire for sleep got the better of me the next day. I had intended to get down the festival in time for Matthew Hawtin’s opening set at the Beatport stage. I was curious to see him if for no other reason than to find out if we were indeed look-alikes. For the past few months, I’ve been inundated with people coming up and asking me if I am Richie Hawtin’s brother. I suspect that this is more because I look like Richie, and not that I actually look like Matthew, but I digress. When I got to the festival, it was only with enough time to catch the last half-hour of Konrad Black’s set. I had decided early on that I would be spending most of my time on Sunday at the festival at the Beatport stage. The lineup for the stage that day consisted entirely of artists on the M_nus roster. I figured that having missed them the previous night, I would get my proper dosage at the festival. Of particular interest to me were Heartthrob and Magda, both of whom were the shining stars of the M_nus event at this past WMC.
Konrad Black was setting the pace nicely when I arrived, with a set full of the quirky, synth-driven, upbeat sounds I’ve come to associate with him.
Standing tall, and looking, as I remarked to a friend, the most refreshed and physically healthy out of the M_nus core crew, Heartthrob took to the stage. As I mentioned already, Heartthrob stole the show earlier this year in Miami, and I was looking for a repeat performance. Dark and spooky sounds from his forthcoming “Dear Painter, Paint Me” album intertwined with past hits like “Horse Nation” to fill out his throbbing (sorry, couldn’t resist) live PA. Another check plus for Heartthrob in my book.
Up next was Paco Osuna, one of the newer editions to the M_nus extended-family, and one of the fastest rising stars of the techno scene today. With his thumping and vigorous releases on Plus8, he served as a worthy (and in my opinion, the only sensible) fill-in for Marco Carola, who had originally been slated to play but was out due to injuries. His driving and spastic techno set being the least “minimal” thus far, Osuna brought the energy level at the Beatport stage to its first crescendo of the day.
Following Osuna was the current reigning queen of minimal techno: Magda, who as previously mentioned, managed to completely upstage most of the other M_nus players the last time I saw her. Her set eased along, meandering between chugging floor movers, obscurities, and bumpy little things. Though I enjoyed it, I wasn’t quite as impressed as the last time. Perhaps this was because after Osuna’s romping energetic set, Magda’s sounded a bit too minimal. In retrospect, it was the calm before the storm that was Richie Hawtin.
When Richie took the stage, the room got 100% louder and 200% more crowded. Observing the throngs of people hustling towards the Beatport stage through the various arteries of the festival grounds, you could almost visualize the word of mouth spreading from ear to ear like wildfire: “Richie’s on! Come quick! Let’s get to the Beatport stage! Richie is playing!” To be sure, it was quite the spectacle it behold. Piled onto the already throbbing mountain of equipment on the Beatport stage were two laptops, each with its own Xone MIDI controller adjoined to the mixer. It seemed that even the lighting engineer had saved up all his energy for this moment, as the lights and colors went off like a fireworks display during Hawtin’s set. I had been thoroughly disappointed the last time I’d seen Hawtin play in March, but perhaps these lowered expectations made this performance all the better for me. I genuinely enjoyed his set, which started out in housier(!) sounds with just a touch of funk, before moving on into the more familiar body-jacking, effects-laden Richie territory.
Unlike the set of his I saw in Miami, which lacked any flow or direction whatsoever, this set was programmed brilliantly and built the energy with each successive track layered on. Perhaps he got more sleep this time around. This alone would’ve been a perfect closing to another day at the festival, but there was still one final course to be had in this decadent buffet of techno: Carl Craig – Live.
About halfway through Richie’s set, I decided I best get my butt over to the main stage. Carl Craig Live isn’t something that comes along every day. The amphitheater of the main stage was, of course, full to capacity. I made my way down a step or two and took a spot standing next to Ryan Elliott, who had also made a point to come out for Craig. As we stood taking in the sounds of Carl Craig accompanied by Octave One and several live musicians, Ryan commented on what a refreshing change of pace Craig’s music was from the majority of music that weekend, and that he was happy how it showed people that techno above 130bpm could be about more than just head-boshing – that it could be melodic and soulful as well. I agreed with his sentiments entirely. Craig’s set was a lush collage of warm organic sounds and musical inspiration, drawing a stark contrast to the often cold and sterile sounds of M_nus camp just yards away. The addition of a live saxophonist and pianist to the mix heightened this feeling even further. Alas, with a schedule so jam-packed full of incredible music 24 hours a day, I had yet another event to rush off to that night, and wasn’t able to stay for Craig’s entire set.
SUNDAY NIGHT – TEMPORARY TATTOOS @ OSLO
Decisions, decisions… Sunday night was full of ‘em. Duplicating last year as the most bloated night for afterparties, the choice of where to spend your Sunday night proved to be a tough one for many a person. Were I more of an optimist, I would’ve realized with so many great parties with great lineups to choose from, you really couldn’t go wrong. There was Tronic Treatment with Christian Smith, John Selway and Joris Voorn; Substance featuring Joel Mull, James Ruskin, and Kyle Geiger to name a few; or how about Beretta Revolution with the boys from Visionquest (Seth Troxler, Ryan Crosson, and Lee Curtiss) and a host of others.
I instead opted for door number four: Temporary Tattoos at the much-hyped Oslo. Hosted by the BLK|Market Membership and Udder Madness crews (from NYC and Denver respectively), whose last collaborative effort produced the highly praised Cheap Sunglasses (touted by some as the “best party of WMC”), this seemed a sure bet for a bitchin’ party. My decision certainly wasn’t hindered by the fact that most of my friends would be at this party, and that the lineup contained Detroit-exclusive performances from the likes of Jamie Jones, Mikael Stavostrand, Bruno Pronsato, and Martin Landsky.
I probably should’ve realized that it wouldn’t be quite the laid-back party that “Sunglasses” was, after tickets sold out with over a week to go (to capacity – only advanced ticket holders were granted entry). Though the vibe was chill and somewhat underground (although I can’t really ever imagine any Detroit party being a commercial poseurfest), this feeling was markedly upset by the overcrowding in Oslo’s tiny and many-cornered basement. For all the praise lathered on Oslo by various friends, I was remarkably disappointed. I’ll even go so far as to say I didn’t like Oslo at all – this is sure to piss off a few people. The spatial design was horrible for a dance venue. There was no ventilation whatsoever. The soundsystem in most areas was mediocre at best (and sometimes non-existent). I’m sure many of the faults I found might be non-issues on days when Oslo isn’t packed to capacity, but this particular occasion only served to highlight its flaws.
The layout of Oslo’s basement can be described as an irregular square, with a wall running between two corners, dividing the space diagonally. On one side is the bar, on the other, the DJ booth and dancefloor area. Traffic between these two areas is always an issue in small venues, but the problems were amplified by the narrow passageways between the two and the harsh angles of the walls.
With low ceilings and zero ventilation (I was told that the owner sometimes purposely shuts off the AC — I’m pretty sure this is illegal and if not, should be), the main dancefloor immediately gave rise to the stifling sweatbox monster of earlier fame. The bar area was slightly cooler, but suffered from a different and possibly more grievous issue: no sound. So there were your options: attempt to enjoy the music on the sardine-canned tropical rainforest of a dancefloor, or decide to breathe and go without a soundtrack.
It was because of this I spent much of the evening on the move in a clockwise or counterclockwise rotation between the two areas – being able to stand no more than ten minute stretches in the oppressive heat of the dancefloor, and getting angry at the lack of music when cooling off by the bar. It was also because of this that I can’t offer much in the way of commentary on either of the sets I heard. By the time I arrived at Oslo, I had already missed a great deal of the lineup. Having started at 8pm, I guess the party was geared more towards those not concerned with acts at the festival.
From the bits that I heard, Jamie Jones’ set was an excellent repeat performance of when I saw him at WMC. It was full of body-moving funk and that percussion uniquely identifiable to Jones’ sound. The best way I can describe feeling I get from him is like you are flying on a spaceship through the Caribbean.
After Jones, the only other DJ I managed to catch was Martin Landsky, who was slated to close out the night. Unfortunately, an unrelated incident caused Landsky’s set to end almost a full hour early. At around 3:10AM, the plugs were pulled on the party and everyone was ushered by security to vacate the premises. I found out only the next day what the reason behind this was. Apparently someone had been gunned down on the street nearby Oslo, and in true sleazebag club-owner fashion, the baffling decision was made kick everyone out of the club onto the street because of this. Correct me if I’m way out of line, but wouldn’t we have been much safer inside the club, you know, where gun-toting homicidal gang-members weren’t shooting people? The cynic in me couldn’t help but think that perhaps THIS was the “real Detroit experience.” So, feeling disheartened after a mostly disappointing night, I made the trek back to the hotel with several other weary techno troopers. The early end to Temporary Tattoos turned out to be a blessing in disguise however, as it allowed me to get some much needed bonus sleep before my next planned excursion the following morning.
MONDAY MORNING – NEED I SAY MORE? PART 3 @ THE OLD MIAMI
The words “best party EVAR” get tossed around a bit too often these days. However, I feel I can say this with a good deal of confidence about “Need I Say More?” At around 9:30AM on Monday morning, I forced myself out of bed, wolfed down a granola bar and hopped in the shower. After texting around to a few friends hoping to split a cab to no avail (The Old Miami wins the award for furthest-away venue at DEMF for me), I wobbled out of the lobby and hailed a cab for one. After a 10 minute ride past blocks and blocks of urban decay, I arrived in front of a small, sand-colored, standalone building with a large green awning: The Old Miami. All accounts of last year’s party at The Old Miami were glowing, but greatly wanting for details, so I got there still not knowing quite what to expect. I will try to do better with mine, but afterhours parties are inevitably where the details start blurring.
If you’ve been to an outdoor afterhours party at WMC (say, Sunday School @ Pawn Shop), take that, increase the chilled-out factor by about 100, and then give it a nice down-home backyard barbecue feel, and you’ve got the vibe at “Need I Say More?”
A small, low-key flyer merely stating “Jan Krüger and people we like, playing great music. See you there.” was the only promotion, and that laid back ethos was the great thing about this party. It was actually relaxing. True relaxation is something that is pretty hard to come by during big music festivals. After a routine of steadily decreasing sleep, food, and mental faculties, this event was just what the doctor ordered.
The Old Miami appeared to be an old VFW Hall turned dive bar. The interior was small, furnished with couches and easy chairs, a couple pool tables, and walls covered in various kitsch and unidentifiable oddities. There was a bar, graffiti-covered bathrooms, and an unused stage in the back. That’s about all you need to know. In the back to your right is a door leading to out to the backyard.
With the threat of day-long thunderstorms looming in the forecast, the actual weather – an exceptionally bright and sunny day – was the sweetest gift of all. Out that back door and into the sunlight, you go down a walkway with some picnic tables and overhanging trees. This opens up into a large grassy backyard, with a big tree in the center, a gazebo, a swing, and even a little Koi pond. Up against the building is a small wooden deck where the DJ booth is set up. People are scattered around you, dancing, lying in the grass, on beach towels, whatever – just laughing and smiling.
Providing the day’s soundtrack are Ryan Elliott, Troy Pierce, Seth Troxler, and, the DJ that single-handedly impressed me the most this DEMF, Hello?Repeat label boss Jan Krueger. There’s no strict set times. DJ’s come and go as they please. Tag team? Maybe… but let’s not define things this time around.
I feverishly began texting all my friends who were not yet there: “Get 2 Old Miami NOW!” One of them had the gall to reply, “Why?” Like there was anything else that I needed to say! This was probably one of the most aptly-named parties I’ve been to.
To top it all off there was food. Cheap food. A grilled hot dog, bag of chips, and 2 big slices of watermelon for $4. Awesome! A lot of people tend to let eating fall by the wayside during party weekends like DEMF, but I’m a pretty food-centric guy. I’ve found that eating regularly is easily one of the biggest aids in keeping you going all day and night at parties. I think a lot of people felt the hurt by then, and this readily available and cheap food was a huge relief to even the most stalwart of party-fasters. Kudos to whoever came up with the idea to have it there, and a BIG thankyou to the guys out in the hot sun working the grill all day.
Back on track (I think my brain is getting discombobulated just thinking about it all). The music. Not to downplay Ryan or Troy’s amazing tunage, but Jan Krueger tore it up. Silly. This guy rocked the goddamn house (or backyard, rather). I love it when you go into a DJ’s set with no preconceptions and they blow your mind. That rarely ever happens to me anymore and it’s a great feeling. How do I describe this guy’s set? Techno? Sure. House? Sure. Had me dancing? Damn hell sure. It was an all-vinyl set (to be expected from a guy who runs a vinyl-only record label), and about the only tunes I recognized were Bruno Pronsato’s “At Home I’m A Tourist” and the modern classic “Get Down” by 2000 and One, which, I’d like to note, was severely warped, and yet flawlessly mixed in by Krueger – a mark of a great DJ if I’ve ever seen one. If you ever get the chance, you need to check this guy out.
Since I was having a blast, time, of course, slipped by all too quickly. Sooner than I would’ve liked I was faced with a dilemma. That same day, back down at DEMF, two of my current favorite producers would be performing live at the Beatport stage. These were Guillaume & The Coutu Dumonts, and Mathias Kaden. Both were on early on in the day, one after the other – concurrent to the party at The Old Miami. After wrestling with the choice in my head, I decided that having been at The Old Miami for several hours already, I should make my way back to DEMF since the chances of me seeing either of those guys again soon were slim. Doing this was easier said than done however. Convincing any of my friends to leave and ride back with me was near impossible, and there was a considerable lack of taxis in the area at this point. After about 20 minutes of making a half-assed attempt to leave, the swirling vortex of awesomeness that was the party sucked me back in. Epic fail. I conceded that I would be missing Guillaume, but still held onto the belief that I would make it back in time for Kaden. In no time, I was back into the groove and had temporarily forgotten about my desire to leave. Another hour passed, and eventually, some of my friends warmed up to the idea of heading back to DEMF. Though it pained me to leave such an incredible party, I got in a cab with some friends and bid farewell to The Old Miami. But by the time we made it down to Hart Plaza, Kaden’s set was all but over. Sigh…
FESTIVAL – DAY THREE
On arriving at the festival circa 4PM, my woes over missing Kaden and Guillaume were soon forgotten. Taking the reigns from Damian Lazarus for this year’s blissfully deep mid-Monday set at the main stage was Cassy Britton, of Panorama Bar (Berlin) and Perlon fame. Cassy’s productions, on which she often adds her own soothing vocals, are a soulful blend of deep-house and techno that have really found a place in my heart of late. With the addition of being hyped up by many of my friends, even by those who I would consider jaded snobs, my heart beat rapidly in anticipation of her set.
Often when one sets an artist up on a pedestal of raised expectations, they’ve set themselves up for disappointment. This was happily quite the opposite case for Cassy. Her set, much like her productions, was smooth and thumping at the same time, enveloping you in warmth like a mother’s embrace. Her mixing was surprisingly quick, but seamless, as I observed her popping on and off three tracks within a five-minute span. She was a pleasure to watch as well, with a sly knowing smile, half closed eyes, head bobbing and body grooving to the beat, providing a refreshing contrast to all too frequent stone-faced techno DJs. Once I observed her dropping the bass back in on a track, and her face twisted into a brief “fuck yeah” look of deep pleasure I know all too well, having made that same face myself numerous times. As she moved back and forth between her two exploding record crates (another all-vinyl set btw), there were only a couple tracks I could ID, including some Radio Slave, and of course several of her own productions and remixes (check out her remix of Tadeo – IO on Apnea records for a taste).
I managed to tear myself away from Cassy’s sweet sexy beats only for a moment to go check out Davide Squillace at the Beatport stage. Squillace, who has actually been producing solid techno for the past decade, seems to be the golden boy of the US techno circuit of late – popping up almost everywhere I look these days. It’s not without good reason. The entire Beatport area was packed and bumping when I got there. I only took in his grooving set briefly however, as the allure of returning to Cassy proved too great.
Following Cassy on the main stage was Swedish techno powerhouse Pär Grindvik. I had seen Grindvik’s incredible live performance the past two years running at WMC, so I fully knew what to expect. I was still particularly excited this time around though because I would be having him play at my own event here in Washington, DC that coming Friday. I ushered all of my friends towards the main stage, eager to show them that Pär Grindvik lived up to my hype. With a body of work spanning the better part of the past decade on such major techno labels as Drumcode, Spectral, and his own Stockholm Ltd, Grindvik’s PA has a lot to draw from. I often find live-PA’s (much like artist-albums) rather boring, because even though I may enjoy the artist’s work, an hours worth of it sounds like too much of the same. This is where Grindvik’s performance shines above many others, as his work offers a wide variety of techno, from banging big-room sounds, to shuffling and bumping minimal, to deep and dark moody pieces, and even some ambient and downtempo offerings. I got down front and center and rocked out proper along with several other sweaty individuals form the Ghostly and Clink records crews. There were of course big Grindvik jams like “Do Us Apart” and “Mnemonic,” but he also surprised me with several new tracks I hadn’t heard before.
After a brief delay, the fellows from Cobblestone Jazz took over the main stage. They went on to perform a live PA that showed the spirit of Carl Craig’s performance the previous night isn’t completely lost in the new school of techno. Mathew Jonson and Danuel Tate (the performance was sans Tyger Dhula I believe) brought the crowd to their feet with Cobblestone’s unique fusion of modern tech-house sounds with jazz and funk — there was even a little something called melody (gasp!). With Tate working a live piano (and some vocals here and there), there are certain to be some parallels drawn with Craig’s performance, from whom I’m sure Cobblestone draws more than a little inspiration.
I dipped out about halfway through Cobblestone’s set (not for lack of enjoyment) for one of my few sidetrips to the Real Detroit Underground Stage. At this point in the day, the subterranean concrete raver’s paradise was featuring everyone’s favorite party monster Derek Plaslaiko – a set I couldn’t pass up. Derek was banging it out proper when I got there, much harder than I’ve seen him before, but certainly not too hard that I couldn’t get right into it. I’ve almost never seen a DJ more attentive to the decks than Derek is. If you’ve blinked, you’ve missed something. Probably one of the few DJ’s I saw that weekend who put both turntables and both CDJ’s (often at the same time) to good use through his entire set.
After checking out Derek’s set for a spell, I returned to the main stage to find that Paul Ritch was on. I’d been interested in seeing him, but to be quite honest, his somewhat homogenous brand of big-room minimal (is that an oxymoron?) wasn’t quite what I was in the mood for at that point. A few tracks later, I decided it would be a good time to go have dinner and take a breather. Following my meal, I walked back to my hotel room to put my feet up for an hour or so in preparation of the big night ahead of me.
The hour’s rest was all the recharge I needed, and I headed back to Hart Plaza for the closing festivities. Following in line with each night’s closer being a change of pace, closing out the festival was a live performance by Dutch techno master and technological boundary-pusher Speedy J. Speedy J’s set was a pleasant bit of nostalgia for me. When I first got into spinning techno, Speedy J’s productions were high on my playlist. His massive chugging grinding twisted brand of techno isn’t something I listen to very often anymore, but when I do hear it — man what a release it is. Speedy J was accompanied by VJ Scott Pagano, whose visuals were excellent, although I must say I couldn’t quite tell what exactly his role in them was. All in all, it was a fantastic and very appropriate way to close out the festival.
MONDAY NIGHT – ACCELERATE @ THE WORKS
The afterparty to end all afterparties. If you were still alive and kicking on Monday night, chances are you were at The Works too. Dan Bell, Sammy Dee, and Zip, together in one night? Maybe this party should’ve been the one called “Need I Say More?” The rumor that Cassy might just stop in for a special guest set was only icing on the cake.
I arrived around 11:30PM along with some friends who were also vibrating with excitement. The Works was almost empty upon arrival (no doubt people were still snarled in the exit-traffic of the festival) and we went right on in after paying the measly $10 cover. Greeting us were the sounds of Dan Bell, who was playing an incredibly chilled-out opening set, showing the great range he is capable of. When Dan freaking Bell is the opening DJ, you KNOW it’s going to be one crazy night.
As with all of the other afterparty venues I hit up that weekend, The Works was new ground for me. The club was a lot smaller than I expected, consisting of two rooms adjoined by a short hallway. The front room held the bar and a slightly elevated flat area off to the left, which, as the club filled up, became the designated chillout spot, with circles of friends sprawled across the floor. The back room was pretty much a high-ceilinged box, with the main DJ booth set into the far left corner. No garnishes or decoration of any kind to be had, but with music that good, none of that crap is necessary. A place without any pretenses – I liked it.
Following Dan Bell in two-hour shifts each were Zip and Sammy Dee. Their sets, of course, were fantastic. There isn’t much I can say about these guys that hasn’t already been said. As their music rolled out, more and more friends showed up, until it was quite the solid party with a rockin’ and packed house. The back room got quite muggy after not too long, but it never got as bad as the previous night at Oslo. Also unlike Oslo, the music was piped onto the adequate system in the front room, allowing you to enjoy yourself no matter where in the club you happened to be.
Mixed into the ever increasing list of guests were more than a few DJ’s who had played the festival or various shows that weekend. My heart skipped a beat when I spied Jan Krueger toting around his record bag. I didn’t give it much heed as I still fully expected Cassy to play following Sammy Dee (she was hanging around too). The night went on, and I went on dancing and chatting with friends (it’s always nice when everyone is in one spot). About halfway through the night, the “kitchen” opened up, and various deep-fried things started floating around the room. As hungry as I was, I couldn’t step up to the challenge of The Works cheese sticks.
As it turned out, Cassy never ended up playing, but this was easily overlooked, as much to my surprise, Jan Krueger took over after Sammy Dee. Once again, Krueger destroyed, just as I had seen him do that morning at The Old Miami. I really can’t recommend this guy enough! After Krueger did his solo thing, everyone got in on the action for a tag team royale between Bell, Zip, Dee, and Krueger that lasted the remainder of the night.
At around 6AM, my adrenaline supply finally gave out and I decided it was time to call it quits. Luckily, the party came to an end shortly thereafter, and a friend and I split a cab back to the hotel. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little depressed that the weekend of incredible music had finally come to a close, but after a full day and night of dancing fueled mostly by a disco nap and some power bars, hitting my bed never felt so good.
I’d like to close by saying that the importance of DEMF goes far beyond giving us techno heads something to look forward to all year. Detroit is a city grappling with some very real and pressing economic and social issues. DEMF and its continued success is a much needed beacon of hope for the depressed city. As told to me by my cab driver on the way to the airport, the festival provides a massive influx of much needed revenue to Detroit, quite possibly the largest it sees all year, due to the enormous amount of tourists that come for it (this year’s attendance was a record 80,000). So if you haven’t been yet, ignore the nay-sayers and give it a chance. I guarantee you’ll come back one less person who’s afraid of Detroit.
Words & Photos by Reuben Sweeney
