December 16 - 23, 1999
Rave chills out
In an increasingly teenage rave scene, irish pubs are providing a home for the elder statesmen of rave -- the ones over, say, 20 years old
by Andrew HermannAt the age of 23, DJ Shannon Coen was burned out. A five-year veteran of the New England rave scene, Coen watched in dismay as his beloved all-night dance parties slipped from bacchanalian frenzy into drugged-out torpor. Everywhere he went, Coen found too much bad music, too many bad drugs, too many "high-school kids in Polo and Hilfiger walking around like a bunch of zombies." Rave parties -- once underground, intimate affairs that usually escaped official notice -- had exploded into overhyped, multi-room events that were often canceled by inept promoters or shut down by overzealous cops. To Coen, and to many New England ravers, it felt like the end of an era. The year was 1996.
That fall, Coen walked into an Irish bar in Cambridge called the Phoenix Landing, and everything changed. At the back of the room, amid the Guinness posters and Irish road signs, a DJ was spinning techno music -- hard, frenetic techno, the kind of stuff you might hear at a club in New York. "The place was completely packed with all Irish people," he recalls, "dancing on the bar, on the benches, hands in the air, going crazy."
He was thrilled. Two months later, under his DJ name Shalako, he and some friends began hosting their own night at the Landing, "Thump." And burned-out ravers just like Shannon Coen have been packing the place ever since.
Rave has been a well-established subculture for more than a decade. It arrived late to New England, but long enough ago to have a history -- most people point to 1992 as the year it really got off the ground locally, when a Boston after-hours club called the Loft was in its heyday, and big underground parties with names such as "Sky High" and "Life" began popping up in the hinterlands of Maine and Western Massachusetts.
Seven years, you would think, is long enough for any scene to mature a little, to get a little sophisticated, even a little gray at the temples. But rave hasn't done any of that; in fact, despite (or perhaps because of) a tremendous growth in popularity, the rave scene has actually regressed. If you go to a rave now, chances are you'll see very few older faces and lots of startlingly young people dressed in the childlike style known as "candy raver" -- plastic jewelry, furry backpacks, pacifiers. Even rave's slang has become more youth-oriented; the term "raver" is rarely heard anymore, as most rave attendees now refer to themselves as "party kids."
All of which raises the question: what happened to all the people who were partying back in '92?
A partial answer, at least, can be found at the Phoenix Landing, whose crowd Coen refers to simply as "the older kids." The door policy for "Thump" is 19-plus, but the majority of patrons look to be at least in their mid 20s, and they present a striking mix of styles, backgrounds, and attitudes. On a typical Wednesday night at the Landing, fashion statements range from Designer Eurotrash to Yuppie Neutral to Cambridge Bike-Courier Chic. One woman, in a black choker and heavy eyeliner, appears to have stopped in on her way to goth night at ManRay; near her, a balding, bespectacled man in a cybergeek T-shirt dances with a glow stick in one hand and a highball glass in the other. There's even a young woman prowling the room with that most quintessential of candy-raver accessories, a pacifier, lodged in her mouth.
At the back of the room, one of Coen's partners, DJ Caseroc, works his turntables on the Landing's small stage, flanked by speaker towers and potted plants, while behind him trippy computer animation flashes across a five-foot projection screen. At the other end, near the door, groups of twentysomething friends sit around tables, sipping pints of Guinness and chattering happily over the din of the music.
"We got the whole rave crowd, we got the art crowd, we got the college kids," says Coen. "It's a great mix of people." Wandering through the room greeting friends, he looks nothing like a DJ/promoter and everything like a slightly hippied-out college student, all frizzy brown hair and kicked-back attitude. (He actually recently finished his bachelor's degree at MIT and now works, like everyone else in Cambridge, for a high-tech start-up.)
If none of this sounds like your image of a rave, that's exactly the point. A Landing regular puts it in a nutshell: "This place gets a lot of old-school ravers -- people who don't go to the big raves anymore because it's all 15-year-olds and drugs."
By the time Coen first showed up at the Landing in 1996, it had already been home to a Sunday techno night for almost two years. At that point there were surprisingly few venues for techno in the Boston area -- nightclubs mostly specialized in house music and various retro nights, such as '70s funk/R&B, or '80s new wave. Elsewhere around town, everyone was doing the Macarena. "You had Axis and you had nothing else," says Kevin Treanor, co-owner of the Phoenix Landing.
Treanor was inspired to launch a techno night by what he had seen in San Francisco in the early '90s, when the big clubs were dominated by screaming-diva house and disco, and the more "progressive" DJs were spinning at bars instead. "I knew it could work here," he says. He found a couple of expatriate Irishmen named Peter Bailey and "Foxy" John Prendergast to be DJs; their friends spread the word, and soon they were drawing big Sunday-night crowds like the one that amazed Coen on his first visit to the Landing.
"It was remarkable to me that I had never heard of what was going on down there," says Coen, but it was also obvious why he hadn't: the crowd was made up almost exclusively of Irish expatriates. Apparently, the Landing's American patrons found the pub/techno combination too bizarre and were staying away, but in Ireland, techno is as common and pervasive as the latest Britney Spears single. "In Ireland, you'll find techno everywhere," Coen points out. "[It's even] in the malls."
The bar's owners knew, however, that to broaden their audience they had to find a way to lure in the Americans. They heard Coen DJing a private party and invited him down to the Landing to spin a guest set. By then, Coen had already hosted his own events with 409, his production company, and had enough connections and enough of a following to bridge the cultural divide. "As soon as we started" Wednesday nights, he says, the Landing "filled up with suburban white kids."
It also filled up with people like Coen -- old-school ravers who tend to define themselves not so much by their age or how long they've been attending raves, but by a certain curmudgeonly attitude toward the current teenybopper rave scene, and an unabashed nostalgia for the good old days of, say, 1995. "It used to be [that] people would drive 300 miles to see their friends," says one old-schooler. "Now they drive 50 miles to escape their parents."
Even before its current candy-raver renaissance, raving was never exactly an adult activity -- many self-proclaimed old-schoolers are themselves only in their early 20s. "We actually talk about [that] among our friends all the time," says Coen, who is 26. "Is it that the crowd has gotten younger, or is it just that we've gotten older? Personally, I believe that it has gotten a bit younger."
Many old-schoolers share Coen's perception, and it's easy to see why. At a New Hampshire rave called "Freedom" this past summer, the vibe was more high-school dance than underground party. The event's most popular gathering spot wasn't by the speakers, but rather on the hillside out back; hanging out there felt strikingly reminiscent of sitting in the gymnasium bleachers.
There isn't much outright intergenerational tension at raves; the raver credo of PLUR -- which stands for Peace, Love, Unity, and Respect -- discourages fans from disparaging one another. Still, most old-schoolers, when pressed, express a degree of resentment toward the Party Kid Invasion. "I feel like a grandma when I'm [at a rave]," grouses one 25-year-old. A twentysomething DJ complains bitterly of the "kids out there, 16-, 17-year-olds, whose parents buy them turntables and mixers and they call themselves bona fide DJs. It's an insult to people like me."
Coen believes, however, that the issue for most older ravers isn't the kids but the raves themselves, which have become too hyped and formulaic. Today's raves are "extravagant productions -- three-ring circuses, I like to call them. They're the only things that are going to draw `new recruits,' " whom the promoters need in order to keep making money. In both raves and the local club scene, Coen explains, the emphasis on profit and publicity creates an environment in which promoters are afraid to take risks and the audience comes to expect a stock experience.
But most old-school ravers were attracted to raves in the first place by the events' radical originality in both music and style, and by the anticipation of something new and unexpected at each rave. To many old-schoolers, including Coen, today's raves and clubs are a poor substitute for those earlier experiences. "The promoters know what works, what's going to bring in people to make money, and in so doing the crowd hears the same music at every party they go to . . . But it's a downward spiral, I think, because the enthusiasm of the crowd decreases. And I think that's why you'll find the older crowd disinterested in these formulaic events, whether it be the clubs or the raves, because there's no longer that same energy there."
To avoid letting "Thump" lapse into a routine, Coen mixes up the line-up each week with guests DJs from all over the world. Among the more notable have been Belgium's C.J. Bolland and Germany's Richard Hartz, both of whom were instrumental in shaping the sound of the early-'90s electronic music that went on to become the trance and hard techno of today.
Coen is the first to admit, however, that newcomers will probably be unable to distinguish the sounds at "Thump" from what gets played at larger clubs on Friday nights. What sets his event apart is not so much the music as that intangible quality that ravers, in one of their many neo-hippie flourishes, call the vibe. "It's a more of a humble atmosphere," Coen says. "It's a more intimate setting."
Coen sees a growing trend toward smaller, more intimate venues for electronic dance music, with other nights popping up in unlikely places all over Boston, Cambridge, and Somerville. There's "Life," a Friday-night club at the Howard Johnson's in Kenmore Square; "Circle," which takes place Tuesday nights at the VFW in Davis Square; and a brand-new techno night called "Contact," on Saturdays at a downtown bar called the Times. Kevin Treanor and his partner Joey McCabe have also gotten further into the action by hosting a drum 'n' bass night on Thursdays at the Landing, "Elements," which rivals "Thump" in popularity. In each case, says Coen, the promoters "are not so interested in pulling numbers of people or becoming rich and famous; rather, they're interested in a good party and the best vibe possible. Rather than trying to pull as many people [as they can], they're looking for the right people."
Finding the right people is not always easy, especially when hosting weeknight events in unlikelier settings. Recently, for example, Coen and Treanor decided to close "Quench," a Sunday techno night at Treanor's other bar, An Tua Nua, near Kenmore Square. But Coen remains optimistic that there will continue to be a place for smaller anti-club events like "Thump," and, therefore, that there will always be a positive alternative to the hipper-than-thou club scene and the increasingly druggy, overhyped rave circuit.
"That's why I continue to be involved and create [these] environments," he says, "so I can experience them. Because nobody else, it seems, is going to do it for me."
Andrew Hermann can be reached at hermann42 (at) aol (dot) com.
The Boston Globe. June 21, 1999: Calendar
Global beats: DJ Tym Ryan and Shannon Shalako are going global this
summer with Sunday nights at RiRa. - Christopher Muther.
On June 27, RiRa becomes the sight of a Swedish invasion with DJ's Joel Mull and Christian Smith. Mull, who leans heavily toward techno, expertly blends hip-hop and acid jazz with heavy, industrial sounds. Smith, who owns two record labels in Sweden, spins tribal and techno. On July 4, the British take over when Eddie Richards spins everything from house to techno. Richards became famous in the U.K. spinning influential clubs such as Heaven and the Hacienda. More recently he's remixed songs for Orbital and the Shamen. Shalako, who also helms Wednesday nights at the Phoenix Landing with Chuck Caseroc, is bringing in international talent for midweek as well. On June 23, Alexi Delano from Sweden spins techno and trance. On July 14, DJ Adam Beyer, also of Sweden spins.
The Boston Globe. April 19, 1999: Calendar
DJ Scene: Techno puts on Sunday best - Christopher Muther.
Friday and Saturday still reign supreme as the big club nights in
Boston, but Sunday night is slowly turning into a contender for
hearing great electronic and techno. In addition to Sundays at the
Phoenix Landing in Cambridge and the new one at Sweetwater Cafe in
Boston, RiRa in Boston is making a bid to win over the
end-of-the-weekend crowd.
RiRa's strategy has been to play it cool.
"It's Sunday, people want to wind down a bit," said DJ Shannon
Shalako, who shares the turntable with Tim Ryan. "We try to keep
things a little more laid back. We spin deeper, funkier stuff." The
music may be deeper, funkier, and more laid back, but the crowd is far
from sedentary. On a recent Sunday, ravers and college kids sprang
back and forth between young professionals.
Shalako and Ryan occasionally bring in unsual guest DJs: This Sunday night, Christian Smith (a.k.a, Nueromancer) spins tribal techno.
Stuff @ Night. March 30 - April 12, 1999: Promoters
The Party Underground - by Nicholas Patterson.
Beyond the bright lights of the city's dance clubs, there's another side to Boston's electronic-music scene: intimate late-night parties, jam-packed dance events, and large-scale raves. These parties are put together by a handful of promoterrs who are devoted to electronic dance music and to the community that's springing up around it.
It's 10 P.M. on a recent Saturday night in Boston, and more than 500 people have poured into a large industrial warehouse for an all-night party. The crowd is a motley one, including rave kids, college students, young urban professionals, punks, even a few graying New Agers.
Unlike guests at ordinary parties, who can arrive at any time, these partygoers are required to arrive by 10. There are two reasons: to make the party less conspicuous to the police and to bring the crowd together for a communal opening ceremony.
Upon entering the high-ceilinged room, African drumming greets the guests. As the crowd grows, the drummers, standing in a circle in front of the DJ table, beat their hands harder and harder against the tight leather drums. Suddenly the drumming stops, the packed room quiets, and the deep, calm voice of Dante, the nights DJ, floods the sound system.
In a ceremony that at first, seems more suited for a yoga class than an underground dance party, Dante leads the crowd through a series of breathing exercises, having everyone inhale and exhale deeply, then hum in unison. Then he has them clap and stomp on the floor. As the synchronized stomping reaches a peak, the speakers begin to vibrate with a deep bass and, in an instant, the room is awash with the intense tribal house music. And the newly formed community of partiers breaks out into ecstatic dancing.
Welcome to the underground. Once known as raves (a word that has fallen out of favor in electronic-dance-music circles, thanks to media hype, drug busts, and a flurry of bad press), these parties, or "events" are drawing an ever-larger circle of attendees. Althought intentionally ambiguous terms make it difficult for outsiders to know whether they're hearing about a small party or a massive, all-night blowout, those who throw them know exactly what they're shooting for: a place where people from all walks of life can come together fro one night of communal release.
SHANNON SHALAKO COEN :: Redlight Productions ::
Shannon Shalako Coen promotes midsize dance events in Boston. An MIT
student and DJ with residencies at the Phoenix Landing and RiRa, Coen
began learning about event promotion in 1992 when he became friends
with David Mayer, a partner in Primary Productions, the company behind
some of New England's biggest raves of the mid-1990s.
"I started out doing security and getting coffee," Coen says with a
laugh. "Hanging out with people who threw events, I learned something
about the responsibilities of each person involved in the
production. This knowledge has really helped me as a promoter because
I know what needs to be done and the effort required to do it."
In 1997 Coen started Redlight Productions, dedicated to organizing
after-hours dance events in and around Boston. In the past year and a
half, Redlight has thrown five dance events that have drown crowds of
about 500 people each and three smaller events where the crowds
totaled about 250.
"I'm the creative director and head organizer of Redlight
productions," Coen explains. "I bring in a lot of friends to help with
it, including the people I live with. We usually start planning and
event about a month before it happens. We don't promote them
heavily. Most people learn about them from word of mouth."
Redlight events start around 10 p.m. and continue until people stop
dancing - or cops knock at the door. The parties, which take place
everywhere from art studios to function halls, boast local and
out-of-town DJs.
Coen was initially drawn to the dance-music scene because of the
accepting community that exists within it. As a promoter, he tries to
foster this kind of atmosphere at Redlight events.
"We began our most recent event with and introductory ceremony
conducted by Dante, the DJ," he says. "He had everyone be quiet so
that they could sense the power in the room and realize it comes from
themselvews and not the music. The ceremony helped make everyone feel
comfortable with each other so the dance experience wasn't and
individual one but and interactive one.
"The experience participants have is a result of the attitude with
which the promoter approaches the production. You can provide a great
experience for the participants if you are determined to create a
comfortable environment."
Redlight events draw a diverse crowd. "We get college kids, club kids,
people from the rave scene, an older art crowd, and a hippie crowd,"
says Coen. "The one common denominator is respect. The majority of
people who attend our events are respectful not only of what we are
trying to provide, but of each other."
MIKE WILKINS and AIDRIAN O'CONNOR :: Mission Control ::
An integral part of the promotion for New England's
electronic-dance-music scene is overseen by Mission Control, a team
that publicizes - but doesn't organize - events. Started five years
ago as a party-information line, Mission Control has evolved into a
comprehensive and reliable information source. Mission Control's info
line - (617) 747-4488 and Web
site (www.miscon.net) - provide up-to-date details on the times and locations of
parties and club nights. At the helm of Mission Control sit Mike
Wilkins and Aidrian O'Connor.
"I'd been involved in the dance-music scene since the early 1990's, doing sound and lighting at parties and helping set them up and take them down," Wilkins says. "In February of 1994, a friend of ours was throwing a party and wanted a reliable info line. I offered to do it, and he paid for an answering machine and the installation of a second phone line. Soon other friends and then acquaintances started asking us to help."
Wilkins' broadcast-engineering skills contrribute to Mission Control's popularity. Working with samples of NASA broadcasts and sci-fi sound effects, Wilkins produces messages that sound like NASA transmissions from the Apollo 13 era.
Mission Control promotes parties as far away as Toronto, Long Island, and Pittsburgh. While they'll promote any legal event, they refuse to cover outlaw parties. Club and party promoters who are interested in having their events listed pay a small fee for the service.
"It's the easist way to give something back to the dance-music community, which has given us so many good times and good friends," O'Connor says. "Whether it's a Euro kid dressed up in Armani calling our line or a kid in wicked baggy pants with a lollipop tied in her hair reading our Web site, we're serving the same community: people who are there to dance to music and have fun with friends."
Stuff @ Night. February 16 - March 2, 1999: Spinning
The Rainmaker. DJ Shalako shows his spiritual side - by Nicholas Patterson
It's Wednesday night at the Phoenix Landing, and a small circle of
breakers trade moves near the front of the room. A little further
back, a group of baggy-jeaned hippie chicks shake their stuff. near
the back of the dance floor, a heavily muscled bloke with a goatee
dances closely and tenderly with a slender, black-clad brunette. Tall,
thin, and pale, with long blond hair, Shalako (a/k/a Shannon Coen)
looks like an apparition as he stands on the stage before the crowd
and slowly slides into his DJing groove.
"I try to produce a particular vibe when I spin," Coen says over a
Guiness shortly before his set. " i want to provide emotionally rich
music that givves participants the opportunity to feel totally
comfortable to express themselves. I'm looking for a combination of
innocence and humility mixed with a mind-blowing spiritual
experience."
Coen's spiritual bent is reflected in his choice of moniker. His
parents gave him the middle name Shalako after the word for a Hopi and
Zuni kachina. "Kachinas are said to be the spirit essence of
everything in the real world," Coen says. "The Shalako are the cloud
people, the giant couriers of the rainmakers." As for Coen's ancestry:
"I'm mostly Irish."
Coen draws from a wide range of music to creat a warm, spiritual vibe
at shows. "I love drum 'n' bass, deep house, techno, and trance," he
says, "but what I find myself really into right now is tribal techno
house. It's a more minimal approach to dance music. There are lots of
hand drums and it's not as hard and in-your-face as techno. It has a
sexy house feel, but at the same time it can be pretty driving."
Born and raised in Santa Cruz, California, Coen came to Boston in 1991
to attend MIT. Although he had always been interested in defferent
kinds of music, it wasn't until his sophomore year that Coen realized
he wanted to be a DJ.
"I started going to the Loft in 1992. I had been in a stagnant musical
period, listening to a lot of bad rock and roll," Coen says, "Getting
into the scene at the Loft was like culture shock. I found an entirely
new kind of music and a new circle of people who were pretty open and
including to newcomers. I jumped into it head first. Within two months
I was DJing."
Though Coen had a background in electronic music, not all of it was
particularly danceable. "My father had gotten my into Jean-Michel
Jarre and Brian Eno back when I was in third grade," he says. "Techno
and trance really clicked with me because it was similar to music I
had listened to since I was a kid, but manifested in a way I had never
heard before. I was like Jarre with a huge kick behind it."
Soon Coen immersed himself in teh dance scene. Yer his new lifestyle
came with a price. "I started not doing well in school. I was heavily
involved in going to parties. I was raving!" Coen says with a
laugh. "I took three semesters off and worked at a number of jobs on
campus, including food service. i also worked in a warehouse for a
while. I was a humbling experience. it inspired me to go back to
school and kick some ass."
Returning to MIT in 1995, Coen was able to strike a balance between
his schoolwork and his love of dance music. he began an internship,
which he still holds today, at MIT's Media Laboratory. Around the same
time, Coen also started 409, a DJ collective that he helps promote
through his Web site
, and Redlight
Productions, a company dedicated to throwing parties in Boston.
In late 1996, Coen found a new outlet to express himself musically. "I
was DJing the rave scene," he explains. "One night I played a house
party in the South End, and Kevin Treanor, the owner of the Phoenix
Landing, heard me spin and told me to come down on a Sunday and do a
guest spot."
One guest spot led to another, and in March of '97 Coen was asked to
host a Wednesday-night show at the club. "I had gotten tired of the
craziness of a lot of rave parties and wanted to have a night that
would reinfuse some of the good experiences I had had early on," he
says. "There got to be a criminal element involved in the party scene
who preyed on other people. I decided that I wasn't going to be pushed
out of something that I loved by some dodgy folks. I saw Wednesdays at
the Phoenix Landing as an opportunity to create a relaxed, innocent
environment."
Coen also sees the gig as an opportunity to shocase local talent. "I
play a set and bring in other guest DJs," he says. "These are people
who might not get spots at Karma and Avalon but whom I respect, people
I can learn from."
This laid-back and inclusive vibe brings large crowds to the Phoenix
Landing each Wednesday. The night has done so well that Coen and WFNX
Spin Cycle's Tym Ryan have been tapped to start a new night, "Quench,"
and Kevin Treanor's new club, Ri Ra, on Sundays.
"We're looking to make Quench a club experience," says Coen. "Not as
fantastically crazy Friday or Saturday, but a groovy kind of party
with lots of house and techno house."
Meanwhile, Coen's future is also looking bright. Slated to graduate
from MIT in June, he sees himself going into either network
engineering or systems administration to pay off his student
loans. But, he also plans to continue his quest to create
trancendental experiences through music.
"I'm looking to make people feel really comfortable, to lose themselves
in the music," Coen says. "If someone has a spiritual experience, then
I've been really successful."
Decontrol Magazine. issue 5 Winter 98/99
Redlight Studio Mixes Vol. 1: House.
"This DJ never disappoints. Once again Shannon Shalako delivers the
goods with this super-funky selection of electrified House and Tribal
tunes. Doing justice by the title of the tape, these jams are of the
seedy-warehouse party type, constructed in a mix with the rump shaker
in mind. Selection aside, Shalako's true strength lies in his ability
to build momentous energy to duplicitous levels. And he still knows
how to level it all off with some funky good downtime when you just
can't take it any higher. Close your eyes and pretend it's not a
tape."
Decontrol Magazine. Issue 4, Spring 1998
[409]
[shannon shalako]
So Shannon, you study at MIT?
Yeah, I'm on track to get a Bachelor of Management Science degree,
with a minor in music. I'm taking the IT option: Information
Technology. It's sort of, part business, part computers. For the
past several years I've been interning at this place called The Media
Lab, which does a lot of computer related work. It's a place where
I've been able to learn about computers in a non-academic setting. I
enjoy being stimulated by both the musical and the technical sides of
my education. I've always had trouble reconciling the fact that I am
the son of artists and enjoy being artistic but at the same time, I am
good at math and science and things of a technical nature.
It does seem rare to find a person who can excel
at both?
I've always felt like a black sheep at MIT because I?m constantly
motivated or distracted by my musical interests. It seems strange to
me that to many people in the world, music isn't of any importance at
all, it's like something for the background. People I respect have
always told me "you'll be most happy in life if you make your
work your play," and vice versa, so that you'll be making money
while doing what you love. But I'm very hesitant to solely depend on
the music industry. I really feel for anybody who wants to be a DJ as
a career. I know that those people who are successful are the ones
who have left everything else in the dust and said; "I'm gonna be
a DJ". So few people who buy records and want to be DJ's make any
sort of money to live on. At the same time you have a future of maybe
ten years, unless you get into producing music and then there are even
fewer people who are successful. Those people I know who are basing
their futures on being career DJ's?I fear for.
Right now you and Chuck are playing Wednesday's
at The Phoenix Landing. Is this the first time you guys have had your
own residency?
I would say it's the first time I was ever playing
anything every week. I think it was fall of 96; I went down to this
house party in Cambridge and brought some records. I played some
music and it happened that one of the owners of The Phoenix Landing
was there along with a bunch of his friends. They really dug what I
played and he said that I should come down and play some spots on a
Sunday night. At the time I was going to parties much less than in
the past. I was kind of concentrating on school. I wasn't really
inspired with the scene. So I went down on a Sunday and it was
totally inspirational. The majority of people there were Irish, they
were all over 21, they all totally dug the music and nobody felt any
need to look cool. It was crazy. People were dancing on benches, on
the bar, screaming and shouting, hands in the air. It was just people
feeling comfortable, reacting to the music in a way that I hadn't seen
in three or four years. The times that I played there inspired me to
get re-involved with this scene. There were phenomenal reactions
where I would be having as much fun as the people who were there. I
guest DJ'd on Sunday once or twice a month for a while and then the
owner asked me if I wanted to do my own night.
Your Wednesday night at the Phoenix Landing also
intrigues me as having a bit of a different crowd?
I'm not sure where that comes from. Maybe it comes
from my circle of friends and people from my age group, people who
have been going to parties and clubs for a number of years and are
looking to hang out with others who have had similar experiences.
It's a Wednesday night so they're not looking to freak out, although,
it's a lot of fun when that happens. It's also a bar, a place where
you can feel comfortable having a beer and some conversation. It's
very conducive to people who are more involved in the music than just,
your typical raver looking for a place to bug out. It's cool because
those people who come have much more interest in your music and know
something about it. It's a place to dance but it is also a place
where you can get to know somebody in a relaxed atmosphere.
So recently you took it a step further and threw
the series of Redlight parties in Chinatown. Were those the first
parties you had ever thrown?
I had helped a lot of people throw a lot of parties
and got into it. It seemed as soon as I strated going out to parties
and clubs I wanted to get involved. I thought it was such a cool way
to give a lot of people a different experience. A way to bring a lot
of people together in a different environment where they felt
comfortable to do whatever the hell they want. So I helped out a lot
of people who were involved with parties at the time. I got to know a
bunch of really creative and generous people; also a lot of
sleaze-balls. I learned about lights and sound. I learned about
spaces, some legal issues. Learned about promoting. I mean, the
Redlights were illegal parties but I was just kind of working with
what I had. Seeing the best parties go down and seeing the
environment it took to make people feel the most comfortable, whether
you look at it as loosing themselves or finding themselves,
everybody's digging the music in a similar fashion. Having seen those
environments in which that happened the best, you get a vision for
what you want to do to make it that way. So that's why I think the
Redlights were special, because those people involved knew honestly,
what makes a good party.
A lot of people thought the last Redlight party
was something really special despite the fact that it got shut down
early by the police.
I agree.
I didn't think of this until right now but this
place, when it is the site for a party, kind of gives the same sort of
aura as the Phoenix Landing, in the sense that there may be a party
going on but it's also a place were you can relax, flop down on a
couch or the floor, sit and talk to somebody?
This is a place were my friends and I work, and we
have put some effort into making it a nice place to also hang
out. These parties were promoted like any other, so I totally expected
to see a few hundred people I didn't know in here. My fear was that
these people would step in here and see this as your typical warehouse
space and not have a whole lot of respect for it. But I think that
people did get some small feeling that this was a place where we hung
out and we would prefer if they treated it with some sort of
respect.
That visual booth, you had set up in the back at
the last one was pretty impressive.
Yeah, Noise Laboratories, I didn't know they were
gonna do all of the things that they did. Like the screens on either
side of the performers were really cool. That was something I
remember seeing from years and years ago, but nobody had done in a
while. That was a great effect. Those guys are sincerely in it for
the fun of it. It was cool to bring all those guys, the visual guys,
the sound guys, together to work on the same project.
Which of the Redlight parties was the most fun
for you?
I would have to say the first one and the last one.
The first one was done about a month after we moved in. Late
September, early October. It was kind of like a 'testing the waters'
type thing. I told some friends, those friends told some other people
and maybe 150 people showed up with less than a week's notice.
Everybody was just kinda hanging out until around two when I realized
something had changed. By then a bunch of people had shown up and felt
comfortable getting loose. Suddenly, between two and three, the place
is fairly full of people and they are all dancing and I'm like;
"Holy shit!" What we meant to be some sort of space warming
party was suddenly something else. The last one, even though it got
busted early, was totally out of control. It was quite amazing.
Something I hadn't seen in a while.
You know a lot of people are speculating on the
fact that the last Redlight was the beginning of the Boston Party
Curse?
(Laughter) Oh, yeah! It's been five parties in
five weeks that have been shut down early. Whether it was the cops or
something else. Yeah, it's actually all my fault (laughter). If we
can't go all night nobody else will (laughs). I can rationalize the
reasons why all these parties have ended. Last weekend a water pipe
broke. What are you gonna do about that? The police broke up a bunch
of parties. I have to say that I was surprised as hell that the
Redlight parties went all night. When the cops broke up the last one,
it was sad because it seemed like something was going to happen that
night that hadn't happened at the previous ones. The vibe - if you
want to call it that - was just, ripe. But I was totally surprised
that (the party getting shut down by police) hadn't happened before.
The rest of the parties that have been broken up, I feel, didn't
deserve it but had it coming. They were held in spaces that A)
weren't legal and B) weren't specked out very well. I mean, right in
the middle of residential areas, not making directions clear, not
keeping people off the street? Throwing a party is really just a
common sense thing but there is so much to think about. You ask me
which Redlight party I had the most fun at and like, I didn't have fun
at any of them because it's really a fuckin' pain in the ass to throw
them. I sweat bullets for weeks on either side. That's why the first
one was the best because there weren't any of those pretenses. The
last one was cool because there was a point in the night where
everything was going so well that I just felt this tremendous weight
lifted off of my shoulders and was finally able to relax.
Any advice to the would be party throwers?
Don't do it in Boston and make it legal (laughter).
One room, One vibe. None of this three ring circus bullshit. The
scene in Boston has always been tough because it's a very religious
city, it's a very politically hot city. There are a lot of factions
around that want to keep things the way they have always been; quiet
and under their control. And that goes for politicians as well as
businessmen in the area. There is a lot of potential here because it
is a college town. There are a lot of young people who, given the
opportunity, would like to have something new and exciting to do. But
there are those people who, in the past have had their fist on the
college dance dollar. If they hear about anything else going on,
they'll do what they can to stop it. It's always been difficult to try
and throw something legal in Boston. A lot of successful parties have
gone on in western Mass. As long as it's out of the city it's
okay. There are a lot of creative people here. There is a lot of
talent in the area. Not enough places to get yourself exposed. Most
people who become recognized enough realize that they have to move out
of the city and into a bigger city with more opportunity. People who
are going to parties? I don't know for what reason but they are just
become younger and younger. I don't feel that everybody going to
clubs or parties are necessarily going with the intent of growing or
learning or connecting with people, which were reasons why I got into
it. A lot of people want to go and just be seen or either just be
identified with some sort of sub-sub-sub culture. That's fairly
depressing. That's why a lot of people I know either stopped going or
get really jaded and cynical. But I would really like to continue to
have those types of experiences where people are connecting through
music. <<
[Chuck Caseroc] [Mike Spearz] [Keith Kene]
How did the 409 crew materialize?
Chuck: At first it was me and Shannon who
lived together at 409 Mass Ave. We started DJing around January '94, I
think that's when Shannon bought his tables. We had a lot of friends
who would come over. We started playing at small parties. Squishy
party at the Boston Body Works was the first party I played at with
Shannon. Remember those guys? Chris Mello and this other guy John
threw the Sqishy parties. Pretty much it was a collective of friends
who used to hang out, who kind of grew together?
How did each of you guys get into spinning?
Chuck: Actually, just hanging out with
Shannon, I met him at parties. He and his roommate Keith used to fuck
around with his decks and...
Keith: Different Keith!
Chuck: I just learned from him basically.
Before that I was into Hip-Hop. The first electronic music I remember
liking was old breakdancing stuff. I really liked all the breakbeat
stuff that was coming out around '92. That's probably how I started
getting into House and stuff. Around '93 the parties were so good
everywhere. We used to go up to Montreal all the time. We got
exposed to so many different types of music. Eventually each of us
ended up liking a particular style and start collecting it. That's
how 409 started.
Keith: I've known Chuck a long time, since
'89 when we used to write graffiti. I bumped into him one day after
not hanging out with him in a while. I told him that I bought a set
of decks and he should come over my house sometime. So then we just
started hanging out again. The first time I ever listened to House
was because of this kid. I was chillin' over his house. I was
probably 19 - I'm almost 25 now - and I was like "Hey, can I
borrow this tape?" He's like "No, you can't borrow it,
that's Shannon's tape." But he left it in my tape deck and so, I
got exposed to an Armand Van Helden House tape. That's how I fell in
love with it.
Mike: I'm probably the newcomer to all of
this. I just sort of, hung out at 409 Mass Ave one night, had a great
experience and decided that I really liked it over there. I really
liked Drum n' Bass, from the moment I first heard it, so I started
buying Drum n' Bass records. I was hanging out with these guys all
the time. I used to go over and play Jim Area's turntables all the
time until about a year later when I got my own. I started going to
some of the first Primary parties. I didn't DJ then. Eventually I
wanted to have a more active part in the music I liked, so I started
to DJ.
Keith: YEAH, and now we're a crew!
(laughter)
Do you guys still do any graf?
Keith: Yeah, we're some original heads. I
read some interviews about some other kids doing graffiti but I never
saw their name up. We've been writing a long time. When did you
start writing Chuck?
Chuck: '88
Keith: I probably started writing in
'88-'89. Everyone used to meet in Copley Square with their skateboard
and a marker (laughs).
Chuck: In a way what we were doing with
graffiti lent itself to this 409 thing because it's all about a crew
and it's all about everyone helping each other out and getting your
name out. If you wanna work, you gotta get your name out there. It's
the same thing with Graffiti; your art speaks for itself the same way
your mixing speaks for itself. It shouldn't be about your persona; it
should be about how the crowd is reacting to what you are doing. I'm
using the skills I learned in Graffiti for my studies now. I went to
Northeastern for design. I was on the design track for like three
years, and then I switched over to photography. Now I'm learning to
use the computer. Combining the computer with the graffiti skills is
working. I design the flyers for the Phoenix Landing every month.
Keith: I just paint on the wall? (laughter)
How did The Phoenix Landing gig come
together?
Chuck: I was living out in Denver for a
while and Shannon told me he had a gig lined up in Cambridge at an
Irish bar. I had played there on a Sunday night once and It went
well. The place was packed with a crowd that I had never seen before
in Boston. Kevin offered Shannon the Wednesday night and they hooked
it up. It went really well. It's pretty much the crowd that makes it
special. It's so different than anything else that goes on in Boston.
I'd like to think it's because we present various musical styles. You
can expect something different every week. Nobody can say, "Oh,
I hate that place cause they play too hard or whatever?"
Mike: I think it's also because The Phoenix
has a pretty un-pretentious atmosphere, so people don't have to feel
like they have to be beautiful or stylish. A lot of those pretenses
are left at the door. People can relax in there and have a good time
and concentrate on the music, not on being cooler than everyone else.
Keith: There are a lot of local heads
playing up in there too. A lot of these big clubs don't let any
locals play. And you get a prime time too. A lot of these other
clubs you might get 45 minutes at the beginning when nobody is there.
So what happened with the upstairs at the
Phoenix?
Mike: I don't really know what the deal is
but allegedly the Cambridge city council came in and said that the
upstairs needed to be handicap accessible and that they couldn't have
activities up there during business hours. We absolutely respect that
but by the same token we're disappointed because it seemed that right
when things were taking off and people were starting to enjoy it - it
got taken off. I used to resident at Sessionz also and when I came
back from winter vacation, Sessionz was done and the upstairs was
closed down. So, I guess, if anyone wants to give me a gig?
(laughs)
So what are 409's plans for the future?
Mike: Well, as far as throwing parties
goes?I don?t ever plan on being a promoter because that?s a bum gig
(laughs). The Redlight parties were a lot of fun?
Keith: Best parties here!
Mike: (laughs) I want to be a photographer
and not necessarily concentrate on the rave scene either, I like
everything. I'm a motion photographer. Eventually, I would like to
publish a book of the photography that I've been taking over the last
eight years. I went to BU as a film major and took all the required
photography courses and just kind of, fell in love with it. Now I'm
working in the photography industry on a freelance basis, working
gigs, taking pictures at raves for people. I'd like to take more
pictures, I don't think I take enough. Those life demands get in the
way sometimes.
Keith: I wanna rock the house man!
(laughter) So many kids are getting on and they're not even that
fresh. Not to talk shit but you gotta have money to get on and since
I don't have any money it's tough.
So you aspire to take this to the next level?
Keith: Yeah, you just need skills
(laughs).
Chuck: Absolutely, you need patience.
Mike: As far as it goes for me, DJing is
pretty personal. I'd like to take it to the next level. I enjoy
getting paid for what I do, it makes it all the better but if I didn't
become the next big Drum n' Bass DJ it wouldn't break my heart. I
enjoy mixing records because you take a more active part in the music.
It's great when you have a group of friends who support what you do.
We're sort of, all there for each other. Everyone looks out and hooks
each other up.
Do you guys have any interest in
producing?
Chuck: I would like to get to the point
where I'm a working DJ and then eventually, after that, start
producing. Right now I'm just focusing on getting my skills sharp,
getting gig's, getting known. Cause you do have to get known if you
want to get out there.
Keith: It's all about fame!
(laughs)
Mike: Reputation is everything in this
game. You don't get anywhere unless someone knows who you are. So in
that respect, we are gonna try and continue to promote ourselves and
keep pushing. As far as producing, I would like to eventually start
making music but I just can't foresee buying all that equipment.
Chuck: Right now we're pretty much just a DJ
crew but that doesn't mean we couldn't become a production crew. The
thing is, with so many people working towards a common goal;
eventually we will have the knowledge and equipment to have a studio
or something like that.
Who are some of the producers you guys
admire?
Chuck: I like David Alvorado, Richard Brown,
Kevin Yost...
Keith: Yeah, Kevin Yost is cool. He's
actually a nice guy, I got to meet him once. You can't sleep on
Onionz. You can't sleep on Pete Moss.
Mike: One word; Optical. Optical is fuckin'
rockin' my world these days. Every track he puts out is better than
the last. I like Hidden Agenda, Ed Rush. Moving Shadow is a great
label. Creative Source is a great label. That new Bjork song, that
Grooverider remix is rockin' my world right now.
Keith: Dubtribe. And they're cheap records,
only $6.99 (laughs)
Any thoughts on the scene around Boston?
Keith: I can't complain about Boston you
know? I play. The first person to put me on was Pete Moss. I used
to open up for him and Fran every Sunday. I lucked out. I was just
starting and they just said "Hey, you wanna play every
Sunday?"
Chuck: People should support Boston and get
stuff going here. It seems like it's hard to do stuff but when
everyone gets together and supports each other, that's what's gonna
make it work.
Keith: I think lately more people have been
helping each other out than say, five years ago, don't you agree?
Chuck: People should realize what we have
here and stop sweating other places. Stop trying to get gigs in other
places and try and build something here. The only problem is the
fuckin' 2am thing?
Mike: Basically, although Boston is a big
city, it does have a small town atmosphere, it doesn't pay for people
to become enemies because we all gotta help each other out. It
doesn't pay to bad-mouth anyone in this scene because we are all here
together and the more we help each other out, the better chance we'll
have to succeed. People will always have that rat-race attitude but
this is just too small of a town for people to not help each other
out.
Keith: Everybody know's everybody here, I've
seen every face! (laughter)
Mike: With the bad rap the rave scene is
getting these days it doesn't seem like lobbying with city officials
would do any good. It seems like as soon as you say the word
"Rave" or anything that has anything to do with Techno or
House, the authorities equate that with drugs, which isn't necessarily
so. Kids are always gonna use drugs, weather it's rock n' roll or
hardcore or punk rock, it's just a little more flagrant in this scene.
As far a changing it, I think presenting good solid intelligent music,
mixed well, to a crowd, is a start. Maybe the kids won't be
concentrating so much on the...
Keith: K!
Mike: (laughs) on all the bullshit.
Anything else anyone wants to add?
Mike: Personally I'd like to give shout
out's to my favorite DJ's and my inspiration: DJ Overload and DJ
Mouse. If it wasn't for them I wouldn't even know what Drum n' Bass
is.
Chuck: I'd like to thank them too because
they gave me my first chance to spin at The Loft. They let me get on
the last couple of hours when they were all tired or whatever?
Keith: Yeah, the original Junglists
out of Boston! I also wanna say what's up to my mom! <<
[Kid Ray]
So tell me, how did you get involved with
music?
I've been playing records for about three years
now. I had two really close friends from High School who were local
area DJ's. One of them was Pete Moss. He lives in Philly now. The
other was my friend Albie Marony who used to play at parties for
Sprockit and Mike Human. We lost him a few years ago; he died. It
was a real blow. But he and Pete were always telling me to buy
records, 'cause I was just buying a lot of CD mixes at the time. They
told me if I bought records I could come use their turntables. Then I
started hanging out with Chuck and Shannon, started playing with them.
We used to throw these real laid-back parties, like maybe 25 people,
all of who were DJ's. We'd just play records, anywhere from like 15
minutes to an hour and a half / two hours. We all learned a lot from
each other. Then I got a job as the dance music buyer at Tower
Records. I worked at Biscuithead for a while too.
What are you up to these days?
Lately I've been setting a lot of goals for my
future. I want to be able to work closely with a radio station or a
club. I'd like to have at least have one 12" produced. I'm
gonna go to school this fall at The New England School of
Communication. I'd like to take the accelerated course for studio
production and radio. If I really kick ass at that, I'd like to try
and go to Emerson. It's a dream of mine to have my own radio show and
be able to offer music that you normally don't hear anywhere else
Tell me about your residency upstairs at The
Phoenix Landing.
Upstairs was me and Mike Spearz' residency. We
used to switch off. Usually when I started the night of I'd play Acid
Jazz and Trip-Hop or whatever. We had some cool guests. We had this
Hip-Hop DJ Ninja B up there. He tore it up, old school Hip-Hop style,
he packed the place that night. We had my friend Jason Raymond come
by and play some Hip-Hop. Mike Walsh has played upstairs. Brynmore
played. We had Acid Maria and those kids from Germany; they did a
live PA. It was awesome. It was a totally cool vibe up there. It
was a bit smaller. Mike and I play the mellow side of things. Mike
play's the mellow Drum n' Bass and I was either playing the Downtempo
Hip-Hop style or like Deep House. Deep Grooves. The thing is, we had
some pull at The Phoenix and we just decided to let some locals come
in and play. We wanted to the give people who don't normally get the
chance to play some time.
Had you played a lot of parties before this
residency?
Yeah. My first big party was The Ecstacy
Ball a couple of years ago. I got to play with Sandra Collins and
her boyfriend Taylor. That was a lot of fun. I've played at numerous
parties in JP. I played at the 409 party in Portland. It was called
The Formula. It was a good time because all of us just get off
on hearing each other play. I'll just go up to Maine on a weekend
when Larry Love is gonna be playing records and I'll chill out at the
party, meet some people and then when he comes on, just dance my face
off.
Larry is the Maine connection right?
Yeah, he used to live here. Then he moved up to
Portland, Maine and did the whole Zoots thing with Chris Clark
and those guys's. You can ask any of us, and we'll all tell you that
Maine is the place where most of us have had our best experiences.
How long have you been involved with the 409
crew?
I met all those guys before they were living at 409 Mass Ave. I
was really into going out to parties at the time and was trying to
help out the Slater brothers with their Primary parties. During the
time period between about '93-'95, we all had a lot of energy. We all
were willing to do just about anything to help out anyone in the
scene. We all just found that we were group of people who were
willing to stand by each other and say, "We are now all involved
with each other." We recently hit a plateau with The Redlight
parties. We all got a chance to play there at least once. We got in
trouble for the last one when the cops came and shut it down. So that
spot's pretty much done. Me and the guys have always honed on a vibe
thing. Like, just be nice to everybody you know? If this guy gives
you crap, whatever? There is no reason for anybody to look down on
everybody else. The way I look at all night parties is; If your not
there to go and enjoy the music and be the last one on the dancefloor,
maybe you should really look at yourself and see if you enjoy doing
what your doing. Maybe just the club thing is for you. Maybe just,
Thursday night, rockin' out with some drinks or some folks is your
thing. Maybe going all night is not your thing. I can say from
experience that me and the guy's have danced' MILES together. And
we're always the last one's out on the dancefloor. And it's always
been that way as long as I can remember. <<