DJ Double Dose
It’s been a while since I’ve done a club report, nearly 2 months. YIKES! It’s not that I haven’t been going out. I haven’t been inspired to write about them, good or bad.
Nonetheless, what better way to end the drought than with a positive report.
This past Saturday, I went to Pacha NY, the club du jour these days, to hear Danny Tenaglia and Carl Cox. The last time I’d heard these two giants play together was at Twilo some years ago.
Meeting up with friends beforehand, none of whom I could convince to go to Pacha with me, we grabbed a cocktail at Barracuda. Front bar, crowded and someone stank like sh*t. Back room, not so crowded with tinny, distorted, loud music. We finished our one cocktail and while my friends headed to the East Village and I headed over to Pacha. Alone, no wingman but I was fine and very excited.
The queue was short, I breezed right in. With a cursory search and tap under my balls, I entered Pacha.
Walking in to the mezzanine floor, the club was popping with energy. Plenty of people were hanging at tables in the VIP areas, getting the most for their overpriced table service I gather. The glass partitions, around the central area overlooking the dance floor, were wide open. Previous experiences at Pacha, they’ve been partially or completely closed to create separate dance/music spaces from the main dancefloor. However with two top notch DJs in the house, there was only one party in the house.
Carl Cox was on the steel wheels, ripping Pacha up.
Tech house thrummed through the opening as bolts of light flashed upwards, illuminating the dark mezzanine. Reminded me of a fiery pit of hell, belching fire and brimstone except, um, not.
The music was calling me.
Heeding the call, I made my way to the main dance floor.
“Packed“ doesn’t adequately describe the main floor. ”Sardines“ would. Up and down the stairs, people were hanging out, looking over the main dance area. I’ve seen Crobar crowded like this but the difference here was everyone was dancing, swaying, having a great time. The energy was positive and contagious. I made my way in to the mob and found a little space for myself to groove. I had a blast. Sure, there were some noobs, flailing like they were having an epileptic fit. Elbows flying in a crowd? Not very considerate. I got nailed in the chest a few times but I brushed it off. I’ll kill them later.
In the back of my head, I knew that the longer I stayed, I’d be rewarded with much, more space and a better dance experience.
Carl Cox was doing a fantastic job. He kept the energy up and the whole club was feeling good.
But when Danny started at 4:00AM, I was more than ready. He took Carl’s lead, continuing with the hard tech house and took us on a thumpy, grindy, fist-pumping, aural journey. It was a trip. Danny was once again relentless for the next 8 hours I was there.
I danced most of the time I was in Pacha. With no wingman, I was struck with wanderlust. I couldn’t stay in one place for long. Good thing Pacha had 4 floors to keep my interest. I would go from the basement to the mainfloor. Head up to the mezzanine and outside for a few, watch the morning rain fall on NY’s west side and up into Pachita, the four floor. Every space was grooving, people soaking in the beats being served. All good.
There were a few people from the dtourism message board there. They arrived much later than me to enjoy Danny later in the day.
I also busied myself, stealing glances with a guy, who by all appearances seemed straight. He’d gotten my curiosity when I was dancing close to the bar. He and a friend were passing behind me and then he leaned up against the bar to watch me, much to the chagrin of his companion. It was certainly flattering because he kinda looked like Channing Tatum. Yum. But I’ve never dallied with a straight or bisexual boy. Still flattering, considering he danced close by, was talking to a girl and I caught him looking my way a few times. Snicker.
By 12:15PM, my reserves were depleted. Danny showed no signs of stopping. (FYI, he spun till 4:00PM) I had the presence of mind to leave, and just enough energy to get me home.
The end.
Here’s some youtubed goodness of the night.
Not the best, lots of sound distortion, but it’ll give you the gist.
Nonetheless, what better way to end the drought than with a positive report.
This past Saturday, I went to Pacha NY, the club du jour these days, to hear Danny Tenaglia and Carl Cox. The last time I’d heard these two giants play together was at Twilo some years ago.
Meeting up with friends beforehand, none of whom I could convince to go to Pacha with me, we grabbed a cocktail at Barracuda. Front bar, crowded and someone stank like sh*t. Back room, not so crowded with tinny, distorted, loud music. We finished our one cocktail and while my friends headed to the East Village and I headed over to Pacha. Alone, no wingman but I was fine and very excited.
The queue was short, I breezed right in. With a cursory search and tap under my balls, I entered Pacha.
Walking in to the mezzanine floor, the club was popping with energy. Plenty of people were hanging at tables in the VIP areas, getting the most for their overpriced table service I gather. The glass partitions, around the central area overlooking the dance floor, were wide open. Previous experiences at Pacha, they’ve been partially or completely closed to create separate dance/music spaces from the main dancefloor. However with two top notch DJs in the house, there was only one party in the house.
Carl Cox was on the steel wheels, ripping Pacha up.
Tech house thrummed through the opening as bolts of light flashed upwards, illuminating the dark mezzanine. Reminded me of a fiery pit of hell, belching fire and brimstone except, um, not.
The music was calling me.
Heeding the call, I made my way to the main dance floor.
“Packed“ doesn’t adequately describe the main floor. ”Sardines“ would. Up and down the stairs, people were hanging out, looking over the main dance area. I’ve seen Crobar crowded like this but the difference here was everyone was dancing, swaying, having a great time. The energy was positive and contagious. I made my way in to the mob and found a little space for myself to groove. I had a blast. Sure, there were some noobs, flailing like they were having an epileptic fit. Elbows flying in a crowd? Not very considerate. I got nailed in the chest a few times but I brushed it off. I’ll kill them later.
In the back of my head, I knew that the longer I stayed, I’d be rewarded with much, more space and a better dance experience.
Carl Cox was doing a fantastic job. He kept the energy up and the whole club was feeling good.
But when Danny started at 4:00AM, I was more than ready. He took Carl’s lead, continuing with the hard tech house and took us on a thumpy, grindy, fist-pumping, aural journey. It was a trip. Danny was once again relentless for the next 8 hours I was there.
I danced most of the time I was in Pacha. With no wingman, I was struck with wanderlust. I couldn’t stay in one place for long. Good thing Pacha had 4 floors to keep my interest. I would go from the basement to the mainfloor. Head up to the mezzanine and outside for a few, watch the morning rain fall on NY’s west side and up into Pachita, the four floor. Every space was grooving, people soaking in the beats being served. All good.
There were a few people from the dtourism message board there. They arrived much later than me to enjoy Danny later in the day.
I also busied myself, stealing glances with a guy, who by all appearances seemed straight. He’d gotten my curiosity when I was dancing close to the bar. He and a friend were passing behind me and then he leaned up against the bar to watch me, much to the chagrin of his companion. It was certainly flattering because he kinda looked like Channing Tatum. Yum. But I’ve never dallied with a straight or bisexual boy. Still flattering, considering he danced close by, was talking to a girl and I caught him looking my way a few times. Snicker.
By 12:15PM, my reserves were depleted. Danny showed no signs of stopping. (FYI, he spun till 4:00PM) I had the presence of mind to leave, and just enough energy to get me home.
The end.
Here’s some youtubed goodness of the night.
Not the best, lots of sound distortion, but it’ll give you the gist.
Labels: NY Dance
posted by evilbuddha @ 2:09 PM
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