Overheard yesterday around 1AM:
“This is some SERIOUS dubstep!”
Hell yes it was at BassFace last night as Ras G, The One, The Professionals, 16 Bit, Broken Note, J Da Flex and many more brought down a seething torrent of dubstep fire onto the open-mouthed masses. In the very best way possible.
The Pure Filth party was located in secret warehouse #823 in my beautiful city and I arrived just as brotha from anotha planet Ras G was laying down IDMy smack on the dance floor like tar, wearing a thicker dubstep lean than I have heard in his sets before. His shit is bomb, and Flying Lotus (who was in the crowd) agrees with me.
Ras G’s music is tall; like that of Flying Lotus, the hip hop-heavy electronica/the electronica-laced hip hop soars over the heads of the dance floor, and some can’t keep up. The beats make you work a little harder to dance; your brain scrambles to process the music out through your body, and you must create new moves on the dance floor as the set plays out.
It is a challenge for me, and I am a good dancer. I know I am a good dancer because gay guys always want to dance with me. With music like Ras G’s I can feel my musical brain evolving as I dance. It is much more difficult and much more fun to dance to this music than say, house music, which I consider the junior high cheerleader of EDM (fun, easy to like, accessible and popular but none too deep).
As a dancer I prefer the whacked up beats, the broken whomps, the challenge for my brain to process it all and move my body accordingly. I like to walk off the dance floor a better dancer, and if that means working harder to keep up so be it. Don’t worry guys; dance floors of the world will catch up to your music someday.
Now it has come to my attention in LA that I can sneak anything into any club (little blond girl ain’t doin’ no harm) which is how I ended up at the party with a flask full of vodka. When I first arrived at the massive brick warehouse building, I went in the wrong entrance and walked around three stories of locked doors, all the time hearing the thick basslines from the party and feeling like I was in a choose-your-own-adventure book, trying door after door.
My wanderings led me to the roof, a vast expanse which was wide open under the orange-purple LA sky and completely empty except for my new friend Lucy and her evil chihuahua, Baby.
“Got any weed?” she asked.
“No. Got some vodka.”
I hung out for a minute before heading back down to find the proper party, a few levels and a couple doors down. You know that vision in your head of a perfect underground warehouse party in LA? This was it. Pure Filth is the crack.
Two rooms of music, two toilets, cheap drinks with cheap liquor, random visuals, bouncing faces barely recognizable in the deep darkness and indeed, lots of filth. The sound was reverberatingly fantastic, the floor sticky with spilt alcohol, and the crowd had that wild look in their eyes. I threw my jacket into the corner and headed straight to the front of the dance floor. There is no place on earth where I am happier.
The only time I spent in the drum and bass room was to buy water at the bar and to stand in line once for the bathroom where I hogged the neighboring fan and danced. A plush couch sat under a window, and for some reason I decided to worm my way out past the thick curtain to see what was there; I discovered a fire escape with two ladders leading up the exterior of the building.
So I crawled right up the two stories (ladders are made for climbing, right? Sorry Mom) to find myself back on the warehouse roof which I explored with my new friend Era. I realized I had discovered the secret passageway into the party. Sweet. I LOVE rooftops.
After howling at the city for a minute I popped back down through the window into the DnB room (people are like, WTF?) and went home. To the dance floor, that is. I had a freaking blast dancing last night, the most straight FUN I have had in a while. The wooden floor was shaking underneath my feet like it was alive and the blast of bass from the speakers in front of my face cooled me off in the dripping hot room.
All the DJs were having as much fun as I was, smoking mad bluntage, passing around beers and drinking Jack Daniels straight from the jug. Kemst was up spitting rhymes all night, tireless as usual, his voice a nice knife-slice in the dark and dreamy dubstep.
I missed most of The One’s set because I was running around on the roof, but The Professionals were thick and heady and then 16Bit and Broken Note just went wild with their slaphappy bass, brought down on our heads like the smack of hand on ass. They fucked up a bit (may have had something to do with the giant bottle of JD) but we cut them some slack in favor of the bass, coursing through the room like a monsoon. People were screaming and dancing and going nuts. Dubstep makes people straight flip out for some reason; probably because it’s FUCKING BOMB ASS MUSIC. Anyone who doesn’t like dubstep has not been to a show like last night. Want to convert a friend to the dark side? Bring them to a Pure Filth party.
I tried to show my friends the secret stairway to heaven which led to the roof; alas the promoters had figured out the loophole and boarded up the window, deciding that having party people climbing up ladders on the outside of the building two stories to the roof and beyond was probably not a good idea. Ah well, there will be other rooftops.
J Da Flex closed things out; after dancing for hours at the front of the floor lost in bass, I turned around and noticed the room had emptied considerably. It was 4:20. I found my jacket thrown in the corner and left, and woke up this morning dancing in my head.
Good shit, thanks for the party guys! The dubstep scene in LA is OFF! FUCKING OFF! Next up, Pure Filth will be bringing us Skream and Benga in June- looks like it’s going to be dark and dirty summer.
If you missed 16Bit and are feeling superlame this morning, chin up, bitches! The duo performs again in LA at Low End Theory on June 24; I will be in the crowd no doubt. Scratch that; I will be up front.
“THIS IS A PURE FILTH EVENT, NOT A CORPORATE COCKSUCKING EVENT.”
Check out more photos by Regal D HERE.
Is Sam XXXL‘s sound system the best on the West Coast?
with your dance floor mates in a communal orgy of movement. This was pretty much the state of the world for Caspa’s entire set, his entire, bwompy, filthy, bassinsane set.
