When it comes to house music there’s one thing you can always count on; it means many things to many people. Well, I suppose there are quite a few things you can count on, but this reason is always what seems to stand out to me when finally discussing the subject with others. Sure, we love the beat, and the soul, and the way it makes us move, but can that be all that unites us? Is it all that simple?
Yes. . . and no. Yes, we are connected by these basic aspects of house. Yes, we are driven to it by the things we cannot describe, but no, it isn’t just that. Life will never be so simple as saying,
‘I love the music; it makes me feel good.’
It’s very much the same as how you found your friends, at least the ones you get close to enough to call friends. Is it such a shock that they are in your life? Do you believe the universe is just one big coincidence? I don’t, and that’s exactly what I would want you to know about me and the story that is to follow. None of this was a coincidence. Not the friends I made, not the music I found, not the lessons I learned, and most of all, not the trips I took.
Every single one was meant to happen, and every single moment lead to the next one, and the next one, and the one after that. All leading to the big one; the one I am taking at the end of this story, and the end of this summer. The entire reason I decided to write this one in the first place. I’m going to Chicago. It’s time to go to the birthplace of house music.
Chicago.
But then again, it’s not always just about Chicago, and it never was. House didn’t just start there just like it didn’t start for me at my first function. In fact, they didn’t even play house music at my first function. They played Drum and Bass, and because of that for quite a while I assumed Drum and Bass was the first sound, since it was the first sound for me. Everybody starts with the same sound, right? Everybody has the same path, right? Of course not. This wouldn’t be a story worth writing or even reading if it were the same as everybody else’s. What would be the point in that?
This will have the stories of others, though. Many stories. Over the course of my writing of this one I have found myself deep in conversations not just with my fellow lovers of house, but also with artists and Dj’s who have experienced it from the other side of the dancefloor than I have. Each one has given me a new perspective and understanding of just what house music really is, and each time I have learned something I did not know before. Each person has taught me something by showing me a side of them I did not know was there. And it always revolved around House music. House is what caused us to find each other. It’s the reason we still find each other.
And, oh, what a reason indeed. House has inspired me, it has saved me, it has carried me through. There really may be nothing better in the world. Plus, every corner of the world makes it. We all have our own version of house, and as I’ve been shown, our own way it has saved us. There is a reason it’s our dancefloor and not just simply mine or yours. It conspires to carry us all through until the end. The end for us, at least. But not the end for our story, though. Not the end for House.
Littered amongst our interviews and conversations that are to follow I will also share stories from my own experiences with House. The moment I knew it was house I was listening to, the moment I knew It saved my life, and finally the moment I am to finally go to Chicago. And why am I going to Chicago? House music. I’m going for House music, of course.
House music has been my life since I was sixteen years old, and now that I am thirty six years old I see how completely it has changed everything. This isn’t just a sound, or a feeling; it’s a religion. House is my religion, and my church is the dancefloor. It has given me so much, and it has asked for so little in return. But I, a thankful and devoted house head, would finally like to give something back to it. Something that will be here long after I am. Something that will show the world what House really means.
A history lesson that ends with a pilgrimage. From New Mexico, the place I found it, the place I still feel it the most, all the way to Chicago where I always dreamed to hear it. I started by wanting to know more about Chicago, but by doing so, I stumbled across something I always felt but never knew for sure. New Mexico and Chicago are connected by more than just this one function kid’s love for the dancefloor. There’s so much more going on, so much more than I could have ever expected. So much that deserves to be told. All that’s left is somebody willing to tell it. So, lets tell it. And for me, this story can only start with one place.
The Paradise Garage.
Ourdancefloor.net 