The last night of CIAA was like reaching the light at the end of tunnel, being relieved then realizing you kinda want to bust a U, and do it again.
On tap for Saturday evening was Michael Vick and "Charlotte's Bad Girl" Kendra's Party With The Pros event (presented by Elite 5) and DJ Jazzy Jeff spinning at Halo (presented by J. Carter & Mike Simmons in association with The Sol Kitchen) and it was really a surreal kind of experience for a Charlotte native. I'll explain.
Party With The Pros took place at Grand Central; it was a venue I hadn't been in since my 8th Grade Social, and seconds after stepping inside, I realized NOTHING had changed in the venue since the last time I was there and Daniel Moose blew the crowd away with the "Cry Baby." It was the "hood" party I was beginning to think CIAA had abolished.
It was seriously like walking back in time to my senior year of high school and all that was missing was a 4X white tee and a wife beater. I'll admit it took some getting used to. No self-respecting (or sober) woman who'd attended a CIAA school would pull her pants down to show a tattoo next to her ... ladies parts, when "Tatted Up" played but at this party? Not only was it accepted, it was encouraged.
Adding to the social confusion was a DJ whose song selection didn't seem to have any rhyme or reason. Random crunk music, Maze, go-go, Bell Biv Devoe and I'm talking about in about a 6-minute stretch. It seemed like somebody was just scrolling through an iPod and saying, "Ooh I remember this."
Thankfully, he realized this wasn't working and got back to the hits. In this case that meant, Waka Flocka and Gucci Mane. The singles, the mixtape tracks, all of them and the crowd went ape shit to every song — this was NOT a grown folks party.
After the DJ dropped Yola's "I Ain't Gone Let Up" I had to stop being pretentious and realized I was being too judgmental of people who were exactly like me (10 years ago). I would've sat down during the go-go set too back in the day (anyone that grew up in Charlotte probably would). I mean, after you get past the multi-colored weave, crudely drawn hood tattoos and the too tight Baby Phat jeans, they were just partying (but I did leave just in time to avoid the pushing at the door like people were going to avoid paying $50 and just bumrush the joint ... that was a little dicey).
On the bright side, there was plenty of room to dance, mix and mingle. The bar was really fast and the women working the door were well-equipped to handle even the most ghetto patron. Trust me. Plus it was refreshing to not hear the same old school set for the one-millionth time that weekend and the house party vibe was kind of nostalgic.
Now, the difference between Party With Pros and DJ Jazzy Jeff spinning at Halo was obviously night and day.
What's crazy about Halo, as somebody who grew up in the neighborhood is that it used to be an abandoned factory my mom used to not want us to play in (but we always did). It's weird to this day to see the Music Factory as a party hot spot knowing what it used to be.
Anyway, I got back to Halo just in time to catch the legendary transformer DJ taking the stage and quickly noticed the sharp disparities between the two events. For one, there was no way in hell I was going to hear The Pharcyde or Al B. Sure at the previous party; there was no way any woman would've gotten away with being a spectator on the dance floor at the last party and there was no way any uppity behavior would have been condoned at the last party.
Couple that with the fact that it was rammed-packed and I was somehow stuck by the a group of salty women. It almost made me long for the last party — that was until Jazzy Jeff started to get busy.
This man was on it and even with his frenetic pace was able to cater to a crowd that went everywhere from 21 to easily mid-50s in age. Of course there were haters.
Some people were getting frustrated that their favorite songs weren't playing for long enough and that his mixing was ruining their enjoyment. Seems like they wanted a playlist, not a DJ. Probably the most infuriating comment of the night was from a woman who could have been Precious' stunt double, let's call it inner beauty, saying, "Next time I'll check and see who's DJing." Mind you his face was on the flyer.
Probably the best way to describe the vibe was like walking into a Hennessey or Bailey's commercial. Sure people we're grooving but out right getting down? This wasn't the party.
A move was in order and after squeezing through wallflowers in the middle of the floor, stepping on some toes and getting at least close enough to see the dance floor, I realized that this wasn't a dancing kind of crowd. Sure, some people were really partying but for the most part this was a be seen kind of party.
One of the highlights of the evening was when Jazzy Jeff slowed things down.
The red lights came on, the music smoothed out and people literally started slow dancing like the prom — that was cool.
While the music was dope, the overall vibe was a little too bougie for my blood (or maybe it was because a few hours before I was rapping along to songs from Young Jeezy's "Trap Or Die" mixtape in the middle of the dance floor at the other party). Either way it made me wish parties actually sold out so I could have more room to enjoy it (or at least lift my arms).
