I have never been a fanatic of dance music. Over the years it has evolved into an entire sub-culture, with dozens upon dozens of different branches. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the musical genre, I mean I get wrapped up in while I am out at the show, it is just that I don’t get as intensely possessed by it as the fanatics do. The problem is more than likely that I do not consume copious amounts of illegal substances. This seems to be one of the major factors in how obsessive one can get.
I filtered in from the cold night air, through the welcoming entrance of the Commodore Ballroom. I trailed a couple who were walking, wait let’s be honest, they were stumbling up the stairs. Both were decked out in neon from head to toe, and of course some brightly colors wayfarers. As soon as the dance floor came into sight, I noticed one obvious thing, a lack of people. The venue was maybe about half full; that would be half empty for you pessimists. Despite that, there was one other obvious point, the energy level from the crowd was through the roof. This point became even clearer once I stood next to the barricade and I could feel the false floor of the venue flexing so much that it was causing me to stumble. To top it off, all this mayhem was being cause by the opener AC Slater. This was the setting for something intense.
After the opener left the stage, the crowd took off to use the lavatories and replenish their refreshments. I took this as an opportunity to find myself some prime real estate. A few minutes went by and the lights went out. A deafening roar shot out from the audience, it was time to party.
The Feed Me stage show consists of a giant dj platform made to resemble a cartoonish evil grin with squinty demonic eyes. From these pieces pulsing strobes of pupil dilating light shoots across the crowd. Within the first few beats the house went mental. I turned around to see a mob of people losing control and falling into the abyss. I took a step back and saw those in the front row bounding three feet in the air, screaming so hard the veins on their necks looked like they would explode.
From behind the dj rigging an ominous arm bounced in time with the beat. Like a maniacal dictator he guided his flock to the promised land, freeing them from the mundane day-to-day they would inevitably have to return to in the morning. By the end of the set I was drenched in sweaty satisfaction. As I turned and looked around the room, I saw the smiles of my musical peers. People were hugging one another like they had just seen the meaning of life. I hope that one day I can appreciate something as much as those fanatics did.
Photos © Jamie Taylor
