When Detroit Came to the Port City

I know that it’s coming up on two (2!) weeks since the Terrence Parker show, but it was such an inspirational experience that both Fred “Nexus6ix” and I have been busy beavers. We’ve got a bunch of irons in the fire, so to speak, but mainly it’s just been an ever-inflating creative bubble that I’m praying doesn’t pop anytime soon.


As I’m sure you’ve gathered, the show was incredible. I have never, ever, in my life seen a DJ cut-up house records the way Terrence did in the wee hours of September 20th. Most of the time I find the work of “turntablists” (Read: Scratch DJs) to be entirely un-musical. Don’t get me wrong; I admire their dexterity and sense of timing immensely, but I think there are very few who make their art truly danceable. That’s not to say they can’t be make their sets danceable, but when they do their styles become closer to that of a traditional club DJ than a scratch DJ. Terrence went the other way: he came at it from the club mixing side and applied the techniques of the turntablist. He knew those records inside and out, backwards and forwards, upside-down. He’d grab a record from his bag, put it on the platter, cue it up without using his tele-head-phone, and drop it into the mix like it was nothing. He pick out a record, cue it, and start cutting it up for awhile, put it back in his bag and mix in something else. It was less like watching a DJ and more like watching a wizard work magic or watching a saint work miracles.


To top it all off, he’s a hellova nice guy. A lot of DJs, even local guys, are at least a bit of a diva and will turn their noses up at you if you’re not “their people”. Terrence was absolutely the antithesis of the diva DJ. He seemed pleased to chat and we talked about records for at least an hour before he went on. It was a real pleasure to meet him and with any luck, I’ll be seeing him again soon.


The video below will give you a taste. The sound is terrible, but if you can get past that, there’s nothing but genius there.



The last little piece of the story happened when we had to shut it all down at 2:15am. We were packing up the gear and Terrence was talking with us and other patrons while we worked. Out of nowhere the obviously very drunk guy comes up to the both and says to Terrence, “Budweiser?”

Terrence says, “Na, man, thanks. I don’t drink.”

Drunk Dude responds, “No, for me,” and drops a couple of bucks on the booth counter.

Terrence just stares at him, stunned. “Dude, this is the DJ both. The bar is over there,” he says with a bemused chuckle.

The guy stares back at Terrence, confused. Then he responds, “Come oooon! Just gimme a beer!”

At this point Fred steps in and says, “Look, pal, do you see any liquor here?” and gestures to the wall behind the booth. “The bar is over there!”

Buddy mumbles a “Fuck you” and stumbles away.

Terrence looks back and forth between me, Fred and Tommy, eyes wide. Finally with a wry smile he says, “I spend a lot of time in clubs, but that’s a new one for me, fellas.”

It was certainly an amusing cap to a unique show.

Way Back When III

I’m still processing the events of Saturday night/Sunday morning, but I have to say it was an incredible night. Lots of kind words from staff, patrons, and the two veteran DJs in attendance. It was a tag-team approach with Sonny D, Tommy Knuckles and your’s truly switching out every 30-40 minutes. My sets felt good, solid, and the selections seem to have been a hit on the dancefloor. People were dancing at any rate. Things didn’t start to go awry until my last set, between 5 and 5:30am. I was having real trouble concentrating and the mix just didn’t lock in the way it should have. I may have been the only one to notice, however, because everybody kept dancing and I didn’t catch any of the verbal insubordination reserved by ravers for train-wreck mixes.

What amazes me most about the night was the friendliness and camaraderie between all who attended. When one goes out at night to an event such as this in other cities, one invariably sees various illicit activities and/or forms of casual violence. This is just accepted; with the good comes the bad. That was not the case at Way Back When. With what I would consider a skeleton staff, consisting of the two co-promoters, co-promoter’s husband, male and female pat-down people, one huge bouncer (who was late), and bartender, they managed to pull of a night that was visibly thug-free and drug-free (Not to say that there wasn't any drug, you understand, I just didn't see any).

What made the night even better was that Deb was able to come with me. Through the kind generosity of my parents, who stayed with the kids all night long, we met lots of great people and danced our asses off between my sets. I can't wait for the next one.