Mord Fustang. Grand Central. 10/8
I love Grand Central.
it is, without a doubt, my optimum venue in Miami. i love that it is so secretive from the outside.
i love checking in at will-call with the air this with the threat of emphysema. you turn from the desk to face the huge stable-sized double doors.
i cant tell if its my nerves, from going to a show all by myself down in Miami, or the incredulous sound system housed in this music hall...but something is churning in my abdomen. with a pretense of the norm about me i push in.
take it in.
its going to be one of those nights you dreamed of when you were 15,
you know...when it was 10 ohclock and you were running home for your curfew just as your older, cooler neighbors were heading out.
no fair.
until now.
they didnt get to see Mord Fustang
that makes me feel better.
DJ JessicaWho is onstage, with a beer in one hand texting with the other, every now and then manipulating her laptop, sending sounds from
DeadMau5 to MGMT to Edwarde Sharpe
then,
something switched on in her
and she put down the beer
then it got serious.
she would set it up, step back, and take a moment to watch us react
then she would get this huge grin and slide in front of her booth. she truly got so much joy from it. that joy that is rivaled by very few life events (maybe a new-puppy type feeling)
she knew what we needed to hear, like she could see our dancing and was playing the music to make our footsteps and hip-sways belong. but honestly, she was only priming us for the real reason we all came..
Mord,
[who actually just booked a show at Revolution!]
what a fine conductor
he worked so hard for us that night. he barely got to absorb all the glory we were pouring out to him. i had my eyes closed a majority of the time, for the sheer fact that there was way too much to be absorbed at once
it felt like the inside of a washing machine with all that shaking, twisting, trembling,
not to mention everyone was soaking wet
it looked like what i would imagine it to look like if a television that was playing Willy Wonka exploded. color, sound, lights in such an array
it smelt...like some homogrown herbal remedies.
ya'know
and the taste..whats that taste in my mouth?
am i frothing at the mouth? yes
thats what happens when youre dancing for hours at a place with overpriced bottled water and people throwing up in the bathroom sink.
so it was a slight case of dehydration, if anything the spaciness only added to the ambiance! i highly recommend it
and to the hobo that tried to grab me as i was unlocking my car...i'm bringing my gat next time so stay in your cardboard box
