Released June of 1971, “Riders on the Storm” is one of the most popular songs of The Doors body of work. This piece of work embodies a tapestry of great sound and a powerful arrangement of sound effects.
Admittedly I am a Doors fan, and this is one of tunes that drew my interest from the beginning. Favored by David Mancuso at the earlier days of The Loft NYC this record still stands to be an important centerpiece of today’s dance music culture. Recently during my DJ appearance at WEPA NYC my friend, and Loft member DJ Antonio Ocasio played this in the middle of our set. It created a great mood for transition and elevated the party to the next level. I have witnessed my friend, Francois Kevorkian the Creator/Curator of Body&Soul NYC , occasionally play this record right at the peak of the evening, to bring the night to a brilliant climax. The combination of the lights, Club Vinyl’s sound system, and the dancer’s energy would get anyone ready for take off. This composition undoubtedly is a work of art acoustically speaking. Layers upon Layers that lead to a euphoric conclusion. Classic.
Taking the time out to acknowledge one of the greats..
Living in NYC for a decade starting in the 90′s, I gained the training and perspective I needed to widen my gaze on music presentation, programing, and the skills that come along with being a masterful DJ. On my journey of many discoveries Larry Levan was always a considered to be a beacon of the purest form of the artistry we know as Dee-Jaying. Interacting with the New York music community as a whole, taught me some very valuable lessons in the sensibility and the true tradition of dance culture.
I moved to New York and went in totally as a spectator and dance floor head. Frequenting The Shelter on 6 Hubert Street at Club Vinyl, which originally had been Area back in the 80′s and later became the original site for the Shelter in 1990 on Saturday nights. Eventually Body & Soul was also housed at the same location on Sunday Afternoon’s at Vinyl. Larry passed in November of 1992 4yrs. previous to my arrival. Larry’s presence was still present on the streets of New York. He was always a point of conversation in discussions about records or sound systems with fellow DJ’s and dancers. I myself was very familiar with Larry’s work as a producer but never got the chance to catch him from a dancers perspective even on my earlier trips to New York in the early 90′s. Hanging with my elder friends and advisers, I got a real feel for Larry’s level of understanding of transferring energy to people through sound. A great understanding of psychoacoustics (the scientific study of the perception of sound), along with years of programing skills that Larry had studied from his forebears David Mancouso and Nicki Siano, which propelled Larry into greatness. Larry was a natural genius for what I like to call “third ear sound.” You can hear this in his productions and remixes. Songs like “Seventh Heaven” by Gwen Guthrie, “Let me feel your heartbeat” by Glass, “Work that Body” Tanna Garner, or his production on his group, born out of the Paradise Garage, the NYC Peach Boys “Don’t make me wait,” give you snapshot of sound sculpting designed specifically around what is now known as the “Garage Sound.”
Larry was not only a DJ and Producer he was a innovator and creator of a “sound.” His sound is one that resonated through the streets of New York and left its mark on the rest of the world and through out history. The components he used where a custom high fidelity sound system crafted around his personal ear; and the personality of the space which was the Paradise Garage.
Records and sound formats were creatively hand picked by Larry and executed with his skill set, one that can only come from genius and mastery. Larry was one of the first DJ’s to create a formula which created an overall experience that engaged all of your senses. He did this in an underground club to a crowd of over 1,000. He also to had a major influence on mainstream radio and vinyl record sales. Most of the tunes we consider classics today, got their first launch from the hands of Larry on his master sound system at the Garage. The famous radio personality, the late Frankie Crocker, was an avid frequenter of the Garage and would take many cues from his friend Larry Levan in the booth, on the newest and hottest material on the streets. This powerful connection laid way to breaking a lot of fresh careers and great innovative music.
To this day it is hard not to take notice of the power of the mastery in the times of Larry Levan. His spirit is still present in the hearts and minds of everyone he touched. I will delve more into how I personally, was touched by Larry’s work in later blogs, along with many other personal experiences that occurred along the path of my study, while in NYC.
In the mean time, here is a bit more on Larry as taken from our good friend Wiki
His Sprit Lives on…
Levan was openly gay and got his start alongside DJ Frankie Knuckles at the Continental Baths,[2] as a replacement for the DJ from The Gallery, Nicky Siano. Levan’s DJing style was influenced by Siano’s eclectic style, and by The Loft’s David Mancuso, who briefly dated Levan in the early 1970s. As Knuckles was still trying to make his way in the New York club scene, Levan became a popular attraction perhaps due to his “diva persona”, which he developed in the city’s notoriously competitive black drag ”houses”.[4]
At the height of the disco boom in 1977, Levan was offered a residency at the Paradise Garage. Although owner Michael Brody, who employed Levan at the defunct Reade Street, intended to create a downtown facsimile of Studio 54 catering to an upscale white gay clientele, Levan initially drew an improbable mix of streetwise blacks, Latinos, and punks.
Open only to a select membership and housed in an otherwise unadorned building on King Street in Greenwich Village, the club and Levan’s DJing slowly engendered themselves into the mainstream. The DJ and programming director from WBLS, Frankie Crocker often mentioned the club on air and based his playlists around Levan’s sets. The Richard Long & Associates Sound system,(RLA) of the club included custom-designed “Levan Horn Bass Speakers”.
Filling the void left by leading remixer Walter Gibbons, Levan became a prolific producer and mixer in the late 1970s and early 1980s, with many of his efforts crossing over onto the national dance music charts. Among the records that received Levan’s touch were his remixes of “Ain’t Nothin’ Goin On But The Rent” by Gwen Guthrie and “Heartbeat” by Taana Gardner,[2] as well as his production work on “Don’t Make Me Wait” by the Peech Boys,[2] a group that Levan formed and was part of (and who became the New York Citi Peech Boys when the Beach Boys threatened a lawsuit due to the similar sound of the name). With a strong gospel tinge in the vocal arrangements and driven by a tinkling piano, the latter song is a quintessential example of the deejay’s soulful aesthetic. One of the first dance releases to incorporate a dub influence and an appended vocal-only edit, Levan tinkered with the song for nearly a year to the consternation of Mel Charen, whose label, West End Records, was nearing bankruptcy. When it was finally released, much of the song’s momentum had been lost and it stalled in the lower reaches of the charts.
Larry Levan alabum
As the popularity of the Garage soared in the mid-1980s just as many of his longtime friends lost their battles with AIDS, Levan became increasingly dependent upon PCP and heroin. While performing, he began to ensconce himself within a protective entourage of drag queens and younger acolytes. As beat-matching and stylistic adherence became the norm among club DJs, Levan’s idiosyncratic sets (ranging the gamut from Evelyn “Champagne” King andChaka Khan to Kraftwerk, Manuel Göttsching,[2] & British synth-pop) elicited criticism from some quarters. Nevertheless, he remained at the vanguard of dance music; recordings of Levan’s later sets at the Garage demonstrate his affinity for the insurgent sounds of Chicago house and hip-hop.
The Garage ended its run with a 48 hour-long party in September 1987,[2] weeks before Brody died from AIDS-related complications. The closure devastated Levan, who knew that few club owners would tolerate his quirks and drug dependencies. Although Brody had verbally bequeathed the club’s sound and lighting systems to Levan, they were instead left to Brody’s mother in his will. This change was reportedly instigated by the late impresario’s lover and manager, who reportedly despised Levan.
Despite protestations and pleas to the Brody family from Mel Cheren, the systems remained in storage as their property. Unable to secure a long-term residency after a stay at the short-lived Choice in the East Village alongside DJ/proprietor Richard Vasquez and Joey Llanos, Levan began to sell his valuable records for drug money. Friends like Danny Krivit would buy them back for him out of sympathy.
As the nineties dawned, Levan was on the brink of a comeback. Although dismissed as a relic in New York, his popularity had soared among connoisseurs of disco and early American electronic dance music in Europe and Japan. In 1991, he was brought over for the weekend to London by Justin Berkmann to DJ at London’s Ministry of Sound nightclub[2] where he ended up staying for 3 months remixing, producing and helping to tune the club’s sound system. Although he was still dependent on heroin, Levan’s 1992 tour of Japan garnered gushing accolades in the local press. Encouraged by Cheren, he entered rehab and made a tentative return to the studio. On the contrary, he informed his mother in June 1992 that he had “lived a good life” and was “ready to die”;Francois Kevorkian described Levan’s final Japanese sets as nostalgic and inspirational, imbued with an air of bittersweetness and closure.
Sampled by many. Firstly a New York dance classic. This jam has seen much milage at places like The Loft, The Paradise Garage,and the Warehouse. It Was a big record on the radio for a while as well. At the end of the day classic is classic, often imitated never duplicated.
Radio and clubs are a far reach from this quality nowadays. Enjoy the message and the music.
When fashion was truly art in the 80′s there were a few designers that stood out. Willi Smith was one of them. A large part of the dance community scene was built off of the fashion component. It went hand and hand with self expression and movement. Nowadays a lot stuff looks the same. Here is a bio on one of the guys that was prominent in 80′s. Inspired by the streets and the soundtrack that pulsed in clubs like the Gallery, The Loft, and the Garage. In Chi-town the energy of Willi’s apparel caught fire and was a standard amongst dancers and fashionistas.
If you don’t know about this young black design educate yourself.
Willi Smith 1948–1987
Fashion designer
At a Glance…
“Streetwise” Fashions Caught Public’s Imagination
Sources
Rising quickly in the fashion world to become one of the industry’s most successful young designers, Willi Smith was part of a vanguard of hip young black designers who first made their mark in the late 1960s. The sportswear he created for WilliWear Ltd. in the 1970s and 1980s was noted for its relaxed, street-smart, and often oversized look that made it functional but fun. Youthful and often unfitted, his clothes had a free-flowing look that often featured unusual color combinations. Smith also introduced a design innovation by matching plaids, stripes, and colors in single articles of clothing.
Smith always wanted his clothes to utilize natural fibers, and he strove to keep his clothes affordable to the general public. “I don’t design clothes for the Queen, but for the people who wave at her as she goes by” said Smith, according to the New York Times. In Who’s Who in Fashion, Anne Stegemeyer said that Smith “brought fashion verve to the moderate price range.”
The seeds for Willie Donnell Smith’s later successes were planted during his youth by his parents, both of whom were extremely clothes-conscious. “I came from your typical black middle-class family, where every event called for an outfit,” Smith told Essence. Focusing on clothes also helped distract the family from their impoverished life in the Philadelphia projects. Smith’s mother would dress up frequently, never having any concern about the stares of onlookers when she was “overdressed” for an occasion. His father tended to wear oversized clothes, an influence that may have impacted Smith’s later design choices.
As a boy Smith spent a lot of time drawing with his mother, and he nurtured dreams of becoming an artist. After his parents were divorced, his grandmother, Gladys Bush, became an important figure in motivating Smith to pursue his artistic interests. She defended her grandson when he missed family curfews because of lingering too long at the Philadelphia Museum of Art or when he spent untold hours sitting on the floor sketching. While studying fashion illustration at the Philadelphia Museum College of Art, Smith began developing a greater interest in clothing design.
Smith’s grandmother urged him to pursue scholarships that enabled him to enroll in the prestigious Parsons School of Design in New York City in 1965. While at Parsons,
At a Glance…
Bom Willi Donnell Smith, February 29, 1948, in Philadelphia, PA; died of pneumonia, April 17, 1987, in New York, NY; son of Willie Lee (an ironworker) and June Eileen (a homemaker; maiden name, Bush) Smith. Education: Attended Philadelphia College of Art, 1962-65, and Parsons School of Design, 1965-69.
Worked for Arnold Scassi, New York City, 1965; sketches Bobbie Brooks, 1969; designer, Digits, Inc., 1969-75; formed own design studio and worked as freelance designer, 1974-76; designer and vice-president, WiliiWear Ltd., 1976-87; introduced WiliiWear Men line of clothes, 1978; sponsored and designed clothes for Brooklyn Academy of Music’s Next Wave festival, 1984; designed clothes for film School Daze,
Member: League in Aid for Crippled Children, Bedford Stuyvesant Children’s Association.
Awards: Designer of the Year, International Mannequins, 1978; Coty American Fashion Critics’ Award for Women’s Fashion, 1983; Cutty Sark Award, 1986, for mens-wear design.
Smith freelanced as a sketcher after school and on weekends. He got his first design-related job one summer with designer Arnold Scassi, a position he landed due to one of his grandmother’s contacts—Bush had been a maid to one of Scassi’s clients and had mentioned that her grandson was a fashion designer.
Smith worked across the full gamut of the sportswear industry in the late 1960s: for companies ranging from the mass-marketed Bobbie Brooks to chic little houses such as Digits, where he was employed for six years. Extremely hard working, he began to build a solid reputation but had trouble breaking through to the top tier of designers. Socalled “black design” was very trendy at the time, but Smith resented pressure to be “more black.” For a brief period he made himself over, wearing long braids that went against his preferred clean-cut image, but this new identity didn’t last long.
Determined to make his own mark, he started his own business in 1973 with his sister Toukie—who often modeled her brother’s clothes—and a friend. Smith’s lack of knowledge of the business side of fashion put his fledgling company out of operation in no time, and he was forced to enter into a partnership with a Seventh Avenue firm that gained the rights to his name in return for financial support. The result was a very unhappy period for Smith. “I was doing all of these designer clothes out of expensive fabrics, very young couture,” he told Esquire reporter Lynn Darling. “They were clothes that people didn’t need.” Smith sued to regain the rights to his name, then worked freelance and pursued career options with other large sportswear companies.
“Streetwise” Fashions Caught Public’s Imagination
In 1976 Smith met up with Laurie Mallet, an old friend who at the time was selling shirts imported from India. At Mallet’s suggestion, Smith accompanied her to India to design a collection at a factory near Bombay. A company called WiliiWear Limited was set up, with Mallet as president and Smith as vice-president and designer. The following winter Smith’s collection generated only about $30,000 of business, but one of Smith’s pants designs became extremely popular. Characteristic of what would become the Willi Smith look, the pants were a baggy fatigue with a high, wrapped waist and became known as the “WiliiWear pant.”
Before long the streetwise and sassy WiliiWear designs caught the public’s attention in a big way, and other designers soon copied the style. Smith’s next collection sold $200,000; by 1982 WiliiWear had an annual gross topping $5 million. In 1978 Smith introduced WiliiWear Men, a line of clothes that incorporated both formality and casualness. Smith struck fashion gold again with this new line, winning the 1986 Cutty Sark Award, the most prestigious honor for menswear design.
Smith concentrated primarily on separates, and his consistency from season to season allowed pieces from previous years to be mixed with his new designs. Pieces ranged from oversized blazers and long dirndls to dhoti pants and poufskirted dresses. Everything he designed showed a sense of humor and spirit, as if inviting the wearer to get up and move. He paid acute attention to all aspects of design and manufacture, designing his own textiles and taking several trips each year to India to overlook production of his collection.
Many influences were cited by Smith as affecting his work, from art to watching people. His apartment in the Tribeca section of Manhattan was filled with African, Oriental, and contemporary art, and many of his clothes featured unusual color blends that he had seen in artworks. Smith also had many friends who were artists, and he worked with some of them. In 1985 he designed 600 uniforms for workers who helped the artist Christo wrap the Pont Neuf, a bridge in Paris, with pink material.
Smith would often stroll down New York City streets, his designer’s eye picking up strange color mixes or “attitudes” that people conveyed through what they wore and how they moved. As he told Essence, “What is happening on the streets of New York is happening to me, so I put it right in the collection.” Smith himself was known for talking as much with his hands as his voice, and he often gesticulated dramatically. He almost never wore his own designs, thinking that he needed some distance from his work to remain objective. Although Smith was generally soft-spoken, his design shows on Seventh Avenue were far from it and were known for their outrageousness.
By the mid-1980s Smith’s designs were hanging in 1,100 stores in the United States, as well as stores in London. WilliWear grossed $25 million in 1986, and by that time the company’s designs were taking on a more traditional, tailored appearance as Smith decided to “mature.” However, he created a bit of a furor with the uncharacteristic look he designed for Edwin A. Schlossberg for his wedding with Caroline Kennedy in 1987. The groom’s outfit featured a navy blue linen suit with a silver tie.
After one of his usual trips to India to supervise production in 1986, Smith became infected with shigella, a parasitic disease. The parasite led to serious complications that proved fatal. Suffering from pneumonia, he was later admitted to a New York City hospital and died in 1987. At the time of his death at age 39, Smith had just been requested to design the wedding gown for the comic-book bride of Marvel’s Spider Man.
Sources
Books
Stegemeyer, Anne, Who’s Who in Fashion, second edition, Fairchild, 1988, pp. 192-93.
Milbank, Caroline Rennolds, New York Fashion: The Evolution of American Style, Abrams, 1989, pp. 291-92.
Periodicals
Daily News Record, April 30, 1987, p. 12.
Esquire, December 1984, pp. 407-15.
Essence, July 1987, p. 49.
Jet, May 4, 1987, p. 9.
New York Times, April 19, 1987, p. 34.
People, November 14, 1983, pp. 76-8.
—Ed Decker
I took my daughter to see this film at the Gene Siskel theater in Chicago. Amongst other Docs that have been done this was another tasteful piece put together honoring one of my heros. I have been a long time fan of street and pop art, from Andy Warhol, Jean Micheal, Donde, and of course Keith.
Keith’s work reminds me of being a teenager becoming a man. Coming up in the 70′s and 80′s I got a chance to witness the vibrant era of the 80′s which defined freshness and the journey of experimentation that leads to unbounded thought process. We have seen a lot of regurgitated elements from the 80′s in recent times on a very synthetic level. As we know history and culture repeats itself but the heart and soul of 80′s has yet to be captured. This doc on Keith gives you a look into the life of a genius, his work and a glimpse into a space of time that catapulted music and art as we know it today!!! I will do blog on Keith and the 80′s later on.
I still need this one!!! I have posted this on my old site and face book page before. I love this one. It reminds me of how fresh things use to be. Let freedom ring!!!
Jams from my wonder years!!! I used to ROCK this joint in the 80′s, HARD. It was a favorite of my late cousin Anton Rogers who was a great influence in developing my selectas ear. More information on I Level ….
TS Monk Candidate for Love I remember when songs like this were prime time for us. Now the standard seems to be centered around mediocrity and songs that sound the same. Has the majority of what we call music heads nowadays forsaken good quality for technology? It looks scary to me. Other wise enjoy the real.
