I have never so desperately wanted to get out of a place than two weeks ago, when I thought winter would never end and I would feel alone in my little apartment forever, so I took my baby Cruze and I drove it south. For five hours. To Indianapolis.
Just for the sake of getting away from the pothole-ridden streets of Southeast Michigan.
I could never have dreamed of seeing the blue, sunny skies that we were awarded today. Thank the LORD.
But back to two weeks ago…
I’m aimlessly driving through Indianapolis–because how else is there to explore a Midwestern city?–crossing train tracks out on the West side in a dilapidated industrial neighborhood that very much reminds me of Motor City, when I stumble upon some EDM radio station. Don’t ask me which one; I’ve been Google-ing “Indianapolis techno radio” and “EDM indianapolis radio” and such to no avail. The closest thing I can find is this online station, IndyMojo, which is great and all, but it’s not what I was listening to.
Anywho, I was enjoying the post-apocalyptic view, getting pleasantly lost, when Doctor P’s Flying Spaghetti Monster hit the airwaves.
Guys, I was driving home tonight from my first yoga class since forever ago (and to that point let me say hallefuckingluja), when new single #Selfie by LA-based electro pair The Chainsmokers started booming out of my car’s speakers.
A few thoughts on the song, which is released quite tellingly under Steve Aoki’s Dim Mak Records:
In a not-too-long-ago post, I suggested to the Internet that maybe it was time to stop trying to fit in or belong in Michigan and start embracing my other-ness. Time to start acting like a tourist in the Motor City and its surrounding suburbs.
Kern’s Clock on Woodward Ave
Well, today I put that idea to the test. Continue reading
The beginning of 2014 has felt a lot like the end of 2013: dark, cold, and exhausting.
But if I can say nothing else about 2014, it’s that this year will be much more techno-filled than the last. Boys Noize and Digweed were recently announced for Movement, there will be a truly free DEMF in July, and I make a new plan to see a different techno show with The Better Half every week. This month, I’ve already gone to see Kevin Saunderson and Infected Mushroom perform, and I’m hoping to see another favorite, Dabura, tonight.
I’ve been fortunate enough to see Detroit legend Kevin Saunderson
spin records mix audio files on his Macbook once before, and he absolutely killed it. With heavy bass, disco-inspired house beats, and 30 years’ worth of experience for where to strategically place each drop, Saunderson is able to get any crowd closing out the club with their dance moves. His latest performance was no different; the moment he took to the stage, more heads were bobbing, more hips swaying, more people kicking it with their favorite dance moves. Sure, the free flow of alcohol always loosens people up, but you can feel something different in the air when a much-loved performer begins his act. Enthusiasm and energy turning up with the change of a DJ; there’s nothing quite like it.
I’m trying to throw together a post about the New Live Experience at techno shows, but I’m having trouble getting all my thoughts together. Don’t want to leave y’all hangin TOO much, though, so here’s a little techno diddy for your Thursday evening. I give you Atchoo! by Orjan Nilsen.
Close your eyes while you listen to the Norwegian producer’s rising, throbbing beat, and you’ll think you are at an underground dance party in the Deep East of Detroit. Is that your scarf you just dropped on the ground? No, it’s your panties. Go find the powdered white stuff, ’cause it’s time to party.
I started this blog over two years ago as a way to get a grip on this decision I’d made to trade in the sunny skies of Los Angeles for the six month long winters of Detroit. Was it going to be a challenge? Of course. But it was nothing I couldn’t handle, right? The simple, quaint Midwest couldn’t possibly throw my way an emotional issue, a mental exercise that I’d need more than a blog post to cope with. I mean, seriously, what’s the worst that could happen? I’d just slow my life down a bit, establish a stable network of friends, and keep working toward the next better version of myself (4.0!) in this new place I’d never seen before. Small beans!
Yeah, except not.
I was driving home today–well, more like slip-sliding down Woodward Ave, when the most magical thing happened.
A Great Big World’s debut top 40 hit Say Something started playing on the radio (If you thought I would try to navigate my touch-screen iPod while at the same time attempting to avoid colliding with the other vehicles navigating makeshift lanes that were carved out of the snow yesterday, then you would be utterly, sorely mistaken.)
But it wasn’t just the gut-wrenching lyrics and sad piano that drew me in. Continue reading