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"I probably shouldn’t tell this story, but here goes. Lo ciento Tia Sona! My little cousin Jean-Pierre is a huge Nadastrom fan and he’s about to graduate from high school. Him and his boy Mike are notorious for throwing these wild skipping parties. For those that don’t know, “skipping parties” are when you throw a house party mid school day and you tell all your friends that morning, and everyone who knows about the party skips school to go wild out.
Word of mouth only too, no internet/paper trail.
Anyhow, around their homecoming last fall they asked if I could DJ one of their skipping parties, and I, being the supportive/bad seed cousin that I am, agreed. They had a beat up system, but like 329439 speakers all over Mike’s basement so it sounded huge. They told me it would last about an hour because cops usually bust it up. The house/neighborhood was right by the woods so it was convenient to bounce and hide if need be. Anyhow, so here we are at Mike’s empty house around 11:30AM and everything is set up. Kids start pouring in around noon and the music starts. Mike and JP are dropping bachata and moving into reggaeton. This shit was getting crazy. Twenty minutes in and the place is PACKED, all Latin kids and everyone is fuuuucked up. Haha! I was gettin mad nervous (oldest dude there) and JP was like, “Yo you gotta go on soon primo!” and I’m thinking, fuck I cant play house/techno shit, I’ll get jumped. So I had the idea of slowing down some of the tropical/Dutch house stuff I had on CDs. Afrojack’s “Moombah Remix” being the biggest tune, I said fuck it and turned that shit down to 108 bpm. JP told all his people about me so bamas started cheering when I went on. And that’s when shit popped the fuck off. The minute that T-t-t-t-turn up the bass! part came in and dropped the place went insane! I played it all the way til the end and then did the same to Sidney Samson’s “Riverside” and EVERYONE is yelling the “Riverside motherfucker!” part and shit was just too much. I was losin’ it and told myself, I need to make some edits of this shit! And thus, Moombahton was born. Long story short, neighbors complained a good 15 minutes into my set and threatened to call the cops. Half the party started to bounce and then a few minutes later Mike yells, “Cops on the way!” and like clockwork this party was done. All in about an hour. I parked down the street and drove both my cousin JP and Mike back to school so they could catch the end of their classes as if nothing ever happened....
Ha, I don’t know about all of that but I do know that Moombahton sounds funky as hell on a system, at a party, at a club, at a function, by the beach, etc. so why not? As long as I can keep the floor moving, I’m good to go....."
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You'll grab these tracks too if you know what's good for you and your neighbors.....
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It's may still be a sensitive matter to some ears,
but the time has come for this instance to be properly addressed....
This track below first caught my royal ear in a hohum mix many moons ago and I must've been focusing on something else at the time (nuahhh) because it passed right on by and didn't hardly register.
Well, certainly not as fatally as it did that one afternoon when
Sir Yervisyee barnstormed the Feel Good Lost fortress out of absolute nowhere (completely forgoing the drawbridge, the courteous trumpet introduction, the ceremonial bearing of arms, the timely exchange of gifts and nearly every other tenement of medieval social etiquette) and rattled the nobles's sheaths off with this jam, unintentionally proving to everyone present the legitimacy of the most basic principle of Physioauditive Dynamics;
Maximum Volume yields Maximum Results. However, even he in all his twisted genius could not predict the monstrous scale of events unintentionally set in motion.....
Things like Courtesy, Decorum and Twickletoeing in general aren't too high of priorities around these parts (if you couldn't tell already by the Feel Free to Feel Free tapestry over the mantle) but a few graceful particularities are necessary to keep the workings of this proud estate harmoniously in order and most imporantly, to set a good example for the serfs down yonder who respect the ruling class and look to the nobility for moral precedence, protection and support.
Lord knows how badly that afternoon terrified them.
As far they figured, paganism was ousted with the advent of the Celtic Reconstructionalists.
Perhaps a few rogue druids still huddled under a crescent moon near the outskirts of the kingdom's fringes but it was common knowledge that the true instigators that reigned over yesteryear's regime of Bedlam and Madness had skedaddled far off and away, out of sight and mind.
Little did they know of the
Danger that lurked just beyond nearest fjord....
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The aftermath of that fateful day was brutal to behold.
Never has the spirit of life been further away.
It'll be a long time before those crops grow back and the fields are truly fertile once again.
The heifers wouldn't graze for days.
The village decandles up right after dusk. Fear and unease loom under the thatched roofs,
as the infamy of that day is whisperly recalled,
"Oðþæt him æghwylc þær ymbsittendra ofer hronrade hyran scolde"
To this day, most of the traveling acrobats troupes jiving around skip over our village completely.
They've heard the stories. Who can blame them though?
Truth be told, that's just the confrontational nature of riddem & sol in its loudest, most maximal format.
And unlike spells, torches or pitchforks, when music hits you, you feel no pain.
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