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MUSIC REVIEW- Alias J. Pinkerton, Carl Washington and Giant People, and Summer Spark

6/06/06 in the Hook

All over town, Friday, May 31 and Saturday, June 1

By DAMANI HARRISON

Q: What happens when the students decamp and leave Charlottesville to us locals?

A: We party hard.

Friday saw an all-night rager go down on Water Street, last in a series of rump-shaking events by alias J. Pinkerton. Too bad the coordinators are headed to N-Y-C-ya-later parties till five in the morning and seven-hour DJ sets. They will be missed.

Saturday the beats continued with three must-be-there events. The first was Carl Washington and Giant People at the Outback. There's no doubt in my mind that this band consists of some of the sickest musicians to touch down here in a while. Whoa! Spastic jazz and funk drumming, tight arrangements, and blazing trumpet are the name of the game. I wish I could've stayed, but....

I dipped out and headed over catch Summer Spark at the Flower Market by the Bluegrass Grill. Seven DJ's in one room make me drool. How'd they do it? They managed to turn a Flower Market into a club complete with bar, security, a tree growing out of the floor at the entrance, and a clean bathroom.

Too bad the folks in attendance couldn't appreciate the promoter's hard work. Posers... all posers, I say. Reminded me of a high school fashion show. The DJ's did their thing despite the lack of love on the dance floor. I didn't stay to see how things would end. Tonight I had a big bag of chips, and the next batch of sauce was at some party way down Route 29. Had to dip.

Next thing I know, I'm rolling up on someone's property at 1:30 in the a.m. It's dark as Wesley Snipes, and I don't know where I'm going. Once properly oriented, I follow a mowed path toward a mini-bonfire at Barn-O-Beats. Myson is laying down a serious set to a few dedicated dancers, the music pouring out of the long narrow barn/storage area onto the rest of the attendees who, like me, are chilling outside on a perfect evening.

I decide to end the night after listening to a dude play perfect rhythms on a didjeridoo to deep house music coming from inside. I've seen it all tonight, and the only place left for this traveler is my own bed.

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