Extra! Extra!

Today’s headline: first-time DJ Pelagic Magic knocks us on our asses! (But we get back up again).  Smaller headline: DDPP to be featured in The Columbia Chronicle!

Ladies, last night’s class was buh. nan. uhhhs.  Where do I begin?  The popping and locking?  One woman doing the robot while she grabbed a drink of water? (God d@mn are we going to miss you DJ Skydive)  Complete and total abandon (and top of the lungs singing) during Madonna?  The poor guy in the corner of the room trying to inconspicuously capture it all (who, thankfully, did not show up looking like this:)

That’s right, I said guy.  For one night only we broke the first rule of DDPP (which of course is very different than the first rule of fight club…) and let in a boy.  He was there to photograph us for the Columbia Chronicle story, and I have to say, I was worried.  Would it ruin the vibe?  Would it make everyone uncomfortable?  Would we freeze in our tracks like deer in headlights?  Surprisingly, the camera did nothing more than provide a strobe-light effect which seemed to drive us all the more crazy on the dancefloor!  Way to go ladies!  Can’t wait to see how they turn out!

And now to present the mix that couldn’t keep us from giving it our all, a beautiful introduction to DDPP for the newbies and a helluva way to send DJ Skydive off:

Who knew a song about getting drunk could have such a great life-message?  DJ Pelagic Magic, there is nothing middle of the ocean about you, girl!

BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE!!  Probably more than a few of you out there are like, hey, wait a minute, what the hell happened to DJ Sassybrass’s mix?  I need to know the names of all those fantastic songs I got down to last week!

Sorry about that ladies (and DJ Sassybrass!); oftentimes unavoidable convergences of life events cause majorly fabulous blog posts to be delayed.

Unfortunately, I didn’t witness this mix first hand–but man, do I wish I had.  It was anything but a hot mess, and featured some of my all time favs!  I can guarantee you that songs 3, 6, & 11 would have made me lose my sh*t, and I cannot believe I missed 13.  In fact, I’m going to go out on a limb and assume that dancing to DJ SassyBrass’s mix last week was pretty much just like this:

Suh-weeeeeet.

Sunday, Rainy Sunday

Ladies, check out the new lyrics for the old poem:  April showers bring bad ass ladies who love gettin’ down. Doesn’t rhyme as well as the original, but it’s true! Yesterday afternoon it was as damp in the studio as it was outside.  As one lady put it, we haven’t sweated so much since middle school!  You always know it’s been a good time when the floor gets so wet our sneakers squeak.  This was all thanks to a killer combination:

The rainy day blues slapping, hangover chopping mix of DJ Slap!Chop!  (insert whip sound effect here.)  Ladies, I am oh so very sore today, and I like it.

Never before have I seen a group of ladies so wild and free!  It was one of those magic afternoons where the boundaries of self melt entirely, and you become part of some giant joy-gasm.  There was clapping, stomping, singing, full-studio running, belly-dancing, and more collaboration than I have ever seen–and half our dancers were first timers!  BIG props to all the newbies!  Your energy was amazing.  It felt like we’d been dancing since the dawn of time…

So, for all of you who want to relive the experience, or for those of you who couldn’t make it and are dying to see what you missed, voila:

DJ Slap!Chop! confided in me after the mix that song number 12, which she first encountered many years ago one night at the infamous Berlin, was the reason she moved to Chicago.  Here’s a sentence I never thought I would say:  Thank you Revolting Cocks!

Let There Be Light!

It was a long dark winter–as usual.  Most likely those of you who have lived in Chicago for a while have found yourself wondering at some point: where does the sun go from January to April?  You probably recall some hazy elementary school science lesson, something about the earth rotating on its axis.  Well I have some big news for you…you’re wrong.  The sunshine has been here all along.  She’s just been doing taxes.

Confused?  Fair enough.  You probably think I’m talking about that big fiery ball of plasma burning in the sky.  Not so.  I’m talking about none other than MC Sunshine, who returned from her usual work-induced winter dancing hiatus this weekend to give a mix as toasty warm as the middle of last week!  (Oh 80 degrees, come back, we miss you!)  With the return of MC Sunshine and a bevy of first-time dancers, it was a perfect celebration of spring!   Tunes perfect for stomping, clapping, singing, and booty-poppin!

And of course, a country cool-down that made me and DJ Ssssnake wicked home sick.  Or was it just a little sick thinking about home…?  You decide

No We’re Never Gonna Survive Un-less…

… we did exactly what was done on Wednesday night. (You get DJ AWOL’s Seal of Approval if you know how this post title’s lyrics end). OK – but we went more than a little bit crazy.

Seriously. Something in the air mixed with the movement of the cosmos and the tune collection DJ AWOL crafted created a veritable melee on the dance floor. It was a throw-down show-down between each of us vs our goofiest selves to see if we could out-freak even our own expectations.

We should have known some essential DDPP shit was about to go down when she started off with Baba O’Reily.

This transported us back to our teenage selves in front of a mirror getting ready for the big game, or the big date. Our hearts began a-pounding and our feet began a-stomping and pretty soon the inner spaz went from waking from it’s sleep to taking our bodies hostage like a frackin poltergeist.

And so began some some remarkable floor action – from upside-down-beetle leg kicking to full sprinting corner to corner of the room. Your dear den mothers were even inspired to break-out some high school sport training moves like “foot firing” and ghost-guarding Michael Jordan on a full-court breakaway.  A conga line of pretend-confetti-throwing and Russian dancing also spontaneously formed during “Radio Free Europe”

I can’t remember a DDPP since the ones Jenn Salvatore and I had in our apartments before even starting this venture that included such hilarity and uproarious un-self-conscious displays of exuberance.

And for that DJ AWOL, you made our day, week, flash-back-at-end-of-life memories.

For those who want to experience this kind of ecstasy, this was her formula:

Baba O’Reily, The Who (warm up)
Da Ya Think I’m Sexy?, Rod Stewart
Manhatta, Visqueen
Heavy Cross, The Gossip
Miss Rebellion des Hormones, Stereo Total
Kids, MGMT
Up from Below, Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros
The Enemy Guns, DeVotchka
1901, Phoenix
Zero, Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Crazy, Seal
Radio Free Europe, R.E.M.
Judy Is a Punk, The Ramones
Always on My Mind, Pet Shop Boys
Just Like Heaven, The Watson Twins (cool down)

Of the Crunchy Munchy Variety

For those of you who don’t know (and if you don’t, it’s time to get wise!), DJ Lady K Stud is a stud muffin when it comes to mastering mixes:

(Forgive me woman!  I never seem to tire of photoshopping your cranium…)

Lucky for us, Lady K Stud served up her usual sweet goodness this Sunday–and we devoured it!  Each savor-worthy morsel proved she hasn’t changed, and that’s more than alright.  She brought it out, and the result was copious sweating, lyric shouting, and (almost) lap dancing!   But for all the joyful frenzy, we took our time, and Lady K Stud did it right.

Some of you may not know this, but I’ve been DDPP absent for over a month now (a month!!!) trying to grow my abdominal muscles back together.  This Sunday was my first week back, and Ladies, I made a promise to myself.  I was going to take it easy.

Go ahead and guess how long that lasted.

No, seriously, take a gander at this masterpiece and see if you can figure out what tune finally put me over the edge:

I’ll give you a hint–I held out a lot longer than I thought I would!  But of course, I knew I wouldn’t make it all the way through.  How could I?  If the music is playin’, and Lady K Stud is DJin’, then I’m gettin’ low–no matter how many guts I bust on the way down.  Holla.

Parlez-Vous La Danse?

I think I’m a little late on the discovery train for Tecktonik dancing, but that makes me no less enthusiastic for it, or for the french who created it. I hope you either had that same eureka love when watching the above video, or you had a friendly flashback of that rave you went to in Marseilles where you woke up with a missing tooth and found a glowstick in the unlikeliest of places.

So…speaking of French, the language itself made a surprise debut at our sweaty close to DJ Michelle Leslie Brown’s sophisticated set-list, when a couple of dancers realized they both speak it. This must be the first time in all of Chicago history that an all-women’s dance session inspired excited talk of banking and mortgages in the language of love. But luckily there’s absolutely no way to prove that hypothesis right or wrong. (phew)

And just because you’ve been a very good girl these days, here’s a spring gift inspired by DJ MLB’s beauteous playlist to help you cope while the weather gets its act together.

(mais, oui!)

NO DDPP EASTER SUNDAY

This is what some of us will be doing on Easter Sunday rather than dancing (drinking beer, not forcing bunnies to drink beer).

We will be back on our regular Weds and Sun schedules after this Sunday, April 4th. Happy Holiday and hope you find more Cadbury eggs than crappy jelly beans!

Glory Day

Friends, meet the DJ who connects the heavens above to the earth below: DJ Skydive.

Ain’t she somethin? Those wings didn’t appear til I got the photo developed. (double wink blink)

Yes this here DJ was an angel in disguise, until she was outed yesterday by my 9 month old puppy, Mavis, who just so happened to have escaped from her collar and leash at 7:50 am yesterday morning and dashed into rush hour traffic and out of any human being’s sight.

Your truly called this angel DJ Skydive at 8:30 am in a blubbery mess to see if she might be able to help post flyers around the neighborhood. And this DJ, and her sidekick incredible den mother DJ Dizzaster, showed up moments later at my door with their running shoes and positive, sparkly thinking caps firmly secured.

And what did this team of angels proceed to do for the next 5 hours straight? Tape flyers on every block, and ask every person in sight, every mailman and woman, every trash collector, construction worker, jogger and child if they had seen dear Mavis.

And even though their intuitive super-powered  magical angel senses knew that Mavis was safe – that some good Samaritan had picked her up already – still, they trudged through the alleys and streets, posting and asking away until well past lunch time, only stopping when I begged them to.

And each time we met on a street corner, called each other on the phone to see if there was any news, I would feel more and more despondent,  and DJ Skydive would be more and more certain that we would be dancing tonight, and we would be celebrating.

She was right.

By the time we showed back up to the scene of the escape, Mavis had already ran 2 miles away from there, past at least two dozen intersections in tact, and crossed the Chicago river to end up less than 7 blocks from my house, and into the arms of a dog lover who fed her, washed her bloody paws, and posted her sweet picture on Craigslist, where we happened to look after crying in the parking lot of animal care and control.

20 minutes after returning home with bandaged puppy in arms (only scraped paws, after all that distance, all those intersections!), my boyfriend was snuggling her on the couch, and I was out the door… to DANCE to this soundtrack of LIFE!

The studio was buzzing with love and life and joy and relief and an incredibly incredible mix. This was DJ Skydive’s bittersweet final appearance as a DJ in our dear town, because this angel is being called to do her angel thing out on the East Coast, and she’s moving at the end of the month.

Those East Coasters don’t know how damn lucky they are just yet. Not only will they be inheriting a spirit of pure love, a mix-maker of epic proportions, but also a woman who can mutha-uckin DANCE! Those who have ever enjoyed a DDPP with this tall, athletic, rhythmic wonder can attest to her highly skilled coordination and stylish throw-downs. I smell a new reality show in Jersey…but with class.

We’ll miss you DJ Skydive, we’ll miss you somethin fierce.