Ah, the memories! Taking the best clues from
Jazzanova Optimo Soul II Soul, the D.H.S. dealt with the hectic gig requests and split up the collective, sending Editor 1 and 4 to the Ruhrpott to deliver the sound of D*ruffalo. Warming up took place in Cologne last Friday, where the boys hosted a soirée drinking session at the mighty lovely Holunder, greeting some local deep house hopefuls superstars and the ever wonderful Groover Klein. Editor 4 gently shrugged off advice on where the gourmets wine and dine in town, and instead kept a steady supply of Kölsch and Holunder shots rolling. In fact the steady supply rolled so well that a visit to a house party Losoul played later that night became all dazed and confused.
On showtime day the next
morning early noon, Editor 4 and 1 went straight to where the gourmets wine and dine, Puszta-Hütte, and had Gulasch for breakfast, in a champions stylee. Then dizzy record shopping was on, with Editor 1 totally failing the point at A-Musik by buying a Dance Mania, a Nu Groove and an Aaron-Carl record, then going on to blag a Groove Attack bag from the Worgulator with his Coati Mundi and I-F purchase. Kompakt was wise enough to close down their store 15 minutes before the top old boys arrived, and a closing time of four in the afternoon was generally considered to be extremely laisser-faire. By then Editor 4 had spent an amount worth the forthcoming night’s pay on records so obscure that nobody could remember what was purchased, not even him.
Then off to Bochum by car, which was reached almost exactly at the time Foffie’s mobile navigation finally found its satellite, just by sheer disco magnetism. The location of Funkloch in an old train station was visited and deemed post-industrial and rugged enough to meet the expectations. The lovely host Guy and his lovely crew supplied so much overall loveliness, that it was agreed upon to give back love and nothing less. First to receive was the bar staff, which proved to be perfectly cooperative, quick and unscrupulous. The hotel was fine as well, so rooms had only to be swapped once.
Back to the venue, people were flooding in and Editor 1
satisfied met the eager anticipation of the audience with his lecture on all things D-I-S-C-O, lecturing equally romantic and confusing antique anecdotes and what-to-do-lists from Anthony Haden-Guest, Andrew Holleran, Kitty Hanson and Michael Musto, and modestly neglecting all the own writings he brought along. Following up was the gig by the Homewreckers, who made everybody wiggle and shake with sophisticated deep beat science and the effortlessly cool presence of the singer Dennis Legree. Then the D*ruffalo Hit Squad took over, embarking on a wild back to back ride that was to last for six hours, without any of them breaking up the schedule just once. This surprising determined level of discipline and the typical varied non-stop supply of deadly dancefloor weapons took over the whole room and was given back in an impressive manner from the crowd, not letting up with cheers, disco clapping, drink supply, and relentless body moving. Ah, the love! The troopers did their very best, in fact everybody attending did so, and the boys could not only make Tobias Koth dance, they even made him take his top off.
When not dancing menacingly near the mixer, our correspondent Foffie took some video footage from various stages of the night (note that the boys managed to surpass the massive loudness of the p.a. with a distortion extravaganza to reduce Editor 2, the D.H.S. main sonic destroyer, to tears of pride and joy), so see yourself:
The D*ruffalo massive would like to thank all the wonderful people who made and did it, you rock!
Now, here’s to the next mission!