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Take three pioneering rock 'n' roll drummers, put them in a room with
three turntablists, have them play for and with each other, see what
happens. This is the premise of the short film Keepin' Time, one of two
documentaries showing in the "The Way Things Work" theater at the Metreon
Friday night for Ubiquity Records' Sound and Vision party. Yes, I went to
a party at the Metreon and actually had a good time. I'm going to hell.
The drummers were James Gadson, Paul Humphries, and Earl Palmer. The DJs
were Cut Chemist, Babu, and J.Rocc. It was great to watch the drummers'
reactions when the tablists first started showing them what they could do.
They looked more amused than impressed, though one guy's foot did start
to tap. Then Cut Chemist paired up with Paul Humphries, and the resulting
bit of rhythmical wonder caused the audience in the theater with me to
burst into spontaneous applause. It was a great concept, quickly and
masterfully executed by director B+.
The second, longer film was Sworn to the Drum, a fairly standard 1995
documentary of master Afro-Cuban drummer Francisco Aguabella who
has been playing in the US since the 1950s and has been loved by everyone
from Carlos Santana to Dizzy Gillespie. There was a lot of
great footage from a tribute concert to Francisco
and a conga summit at Cesar's Latin Palace,
which I admit I wouldn't
have even known about if it weren't for Culture Clash's
portrayal of Cesar Ascarrunz in their recent work about the Mission. I
thought the film did a great job of venerating the work of a talented
drummer to a room full of young hipsters, myself included, whose musical
tastes leaned a little closer to the sort of electronic music being played
in one of the outside rooms. Next on the program in the movie room was an
array of kitschy psychedelic 60s films accompanied by live DJ soundtrack,
but I was kind of eager to get away from the stinky drunk guy next to me.
These things happen when you put a bar in a theater.
Only one further word about the scene at the party. Women who wear those
tinted rimless aviator glasses indoors at night should be bitch-slapped.
After the films I left the Metreon and headed over to the Mission with two
of my friends to wind down at an intimate party being held in a church by
the St. John Rhythm Society. The very concept of a rave being held in a
church delighted me to no end, and I was not disappointed. The pews had
been pushed away to clear space in the center of the church, and a few
dozen smiling people danced below the high vaulted ceiling and stained
glass and lit candles. A banner of a Celtic cross hung off the
turntables. A young girl lay asleep on a pew at the back with her arm
around a stuffed elephant, totally oblivious to the music. Three cheers
for progressive pastors who see raves as the opportunity for community
that some of us always wish they were. Another for whoever decided to
structure a techno track around the incidental music from American
Beauty. And a last one for Bob, without whom my evening would have been
decidedly more annoying.
Ubiquity Records
beat junkie sound
Flower Films
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Heidi J. De Vries
