It's hard for me to say why, but a lot of people are surprised when I tell them how much I enjoy rave music. I mean I am probably way too inhibited (and too old) to ever actually go to one, but the family knows that "Ravey Gravy" is one of my go-to playlists on the weekend, especially in the kitchen.
So yeah, my musical tastes are pretty eclectic and there is plenty of room for EDM in my wheelhouse.
Glory is similarly oriented and was gratified to be able to take her bestie to a proper dance club in Texas when they visited Tara there last November - a place with great sounds, good lights and a dedicated dance floor. She almost had me convinced that the two of us should go to a rave at the Aviation museum called "Bangers in the Hangar" but they sold out before I could be put to the test (save us from the time of trial).
Conversely, when she went out with her friends from nursing school on Friday they started out at Cook County and ended up at Daisy's, with her lamenting the next morning, "why does Edmonton need two country dance bars when they don't have a single other dance club?" [Note: she concedes there are places one can dance, but categorizes them as bars with dance floors, not dance clubs where one can drink.]
This triggered an ancient memory in my discocampus and I looked up from my bowl of Honeycombs saying, "hey, what if we won the lotto - would you be interested in building and running a proper dance club with a retro/future industrial theme with me?"
"Ohmigawd yes," she said, "what would we call it?"
"Sub-Level 3," I replied. "But look, here's the thing, this has been a dream in the back of my mind for like three decades."
When she nodded, I continued: "So the look is super industrial and technological - treadplate and stuff that looks like treadplate everywhere. Exposed conduit and piping, perforated metal partitioning, yellow gumball lights from the ceiling, metal cages around the naked red bulbs by the exits, OSHA stripes wherever there is an elevation change, the whole thing. Oh, and as much fog as I can reasonably afford."
She nodded, "okay, so where is this all coming from?"
"It's a fair question," I replied. "It is largely from Ripley's rescue of Newt in the movie Aliens."
There was a brief pause while her fandom confronted both her artistic and commercial appeal centres, and then she nodded, "okay, I love it. Playlists only, right, no deejay?"
"Sure," I agreed.
"What about lights?" she queried.
"Well, that and the sound system should be the big expense, since the decor should be cheap and low maintenance. And the gumballs are just for ambience, and might only be in the entryway and corridor." (in my mind, there would be a dedicated perimeter within the building for an indoor lineup, given how cold it gets in this city for much of the year.)
"And I mean a full suite of theatrical, computer controlled lights - lasers, strobes, gels, video display backgrounds, the whole nine yards. And some of them synced to immense knife switches on the wall, like in Frankenstein's lab."
"Oh!" she exclaimed, "you mean like those big..." and the mimed pulling a switch like one sees for an electric chair.
"Exactly!" I confirmed.
Her eyes rolled, "okay, that would be awesome, where I could be on stage waiting for the drop, and just when it hits - BAM I throw the switch and CHAOS."
"You get it," I smiled.
Later that day I was driving when I was hit with sudden inspiration and texted her from a red light: "animatronic ROBOT DJ."
And I don't mean some friendly android puppet either, I am talking about some serious Kubota industrial stuff where a three-fingered robot arm occasionally holds up a platter for a screaming audience, spinning it dramatically before dropping it with binary precision onto a turntable - just for show of course, with all the actual sounds being digital, but such a show!
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