ALL PHOTOS COURTESY OF BUFF $LUT
Last friday night my date and I were down by the webster tube when we saw a big punk looking dude sitting on a stool on the sidewalk.
“Is this the . . .”
“Yes,” he said. “This is what you’re here for.”
I’d like to describe the night to you in detail, but the honest truth is that I was freaking out so hard over how awesome everything was that I blacked out for most of the night. I couldn’t even tell you exactly what kind of music was playing–it’s embedded too deep in my party subconscious to even extract and vaguely describe to you. Here’s all that I can tell you about that night.
The first thing I see in the lower stage is a dude (possibly wearing sandals) standing on the speakers with his ass straight up in the air. This dude dressed like a sexy farmer. (Pretty sure it was his actual birthday.) And a guy ran into me and spilled my very strong drink. But I already was past giving a fuck.
After getting covered in sweat my date and I squeezed out to the back for more whiskey and a smoke. He’s an east coast transplant and I asked him how he liked the show. He said it was awesome but felt he was dressed too straight laced. I told him, “This is the kind of place where whoever you are or whoever you want to be all you have to do is be that person and enjoy the fuck out of it and no one here will judge or exclude you. I mean, that dude right there is wearing a shirt made out of the same fabric I bought from the discount store on Ashby to make curtains.”
We heard an announcement for Drake’s Emotions.
DRAKE’S EMOTIONS!!
A girl yelled into a mic that it was only midnight and we freaked out.
We realized there was an upstairs. We went up to the balcony and saw a drunk girl accidentally tip a whole can of beer onto the crowd below. No one downstairs seemed to notice.
Inside I started dancing ass to ass with a girl who was impressing the shit out of me. She was literally bouncing my ass up and down on top of hers. I remember thinking “fuck yes this girl does not give a fuck she just wants to dance.” When the song ended we turned around and clapped hands and I realized it wasn’t a girl but a dude with long hair. Way to totally school my heteronormative gender assumptions dude. Also, that dude out twerked the shit out of me.
A Tupac song came on and everyone freaked the fuck out.
Then the mash started. And, of course, I had to get in on that.
One of the mashers cracked me straight in the nose with the back of his head. Massive nosebleed then ensued.
I had an exam at 7:30am that was going to qualify me to be a high school substitute teacher, so getting a bloody nose seemed like a pretty good cue to go home. My date also really wanted to go home and do this.
Before I left the states, the few events hosted by Sick Sad World, Trill Team Six, and Yung Klout Gang I was privileged enough to go to were an explosion of wild and wildly creative personalities. Coming back, there’s a natural apprehension whenever an underground venue like the Rec Center shuts down that succeeding events will lose that pureness and rawness of spirit that makes shit like this more than just a party. But the in your face enthusiasm at Riddim shouted out that SSW had lost none of its Rec Center realness. That plurnt energy is a reflection of a community that comes together to create a space where you are free to get the fuck down and be whoever you are. All over Thailand, from Koh Pha Nagn’s neon colored full moon parties to pre-dawn make-out sessions on Khal San Road, I went to bucket-booze parties that groped desperately to imitate that freedom in the name of making money. And I dreamed of Oakland.
My nose still hurts, but Hyphybirthday was fucking worth it.
The 510 