Jax In Review
Readers may have happened to notice our quiet obsession with Tifton, a small town in South Georgia that seems perfect. Almost too perfect…
We happened to stop by Tifton on the way to Jacksonville in hopes of checking out the main drag and perhaps finding a local diner where a waitress named Gladys would serve her famous hush puppies that the whole town says are to die for, and the whole thing would be a warm, patronzing, pat on the back to ourselves for our appreciation of small town life, because although its not exciting enough to keep us for long, we still honor its merits.
The road hit a park, and in the park was a festival, Tifton’s “The Love Affair”, complete with sparkle motion dance competitions, fried gator tails and even a far east chillout tent with this woman rocking a Guqin, China’s oldest stringed instrument. Best of all, this place was like a trail mix of diversity, with Tiftonians of all race, creed, and color joining together for a day of fun.
Somehow, it didn’t make sense. Something about the craft tents full of wind-chimes and walking sticks and barbershop quartets made me feel uneasy. Where were all the racists, rednecks, and general malaise that we come to know about the South?
Perhaps the best part of the whole trip to Jacksonville was the Wyndham Riverwalk, our gloriously worn-out hotel. Our arrival marked the last day of a national convention for retired marines, and the place packed enough whiskey, crew cuts and Ooh-Ra’s to fuel a jihad.
TSI is a nice club, very new, and despite its bountiful ashtrays and dark lights, still smells new. Self-described as an indie joint, the club has been steadily gaining momentum as one of the best places of its kind in Jacksonville. The place stops serving at two, but could stay open as long as people were partying. In truth, the venue itself is better than most - if not all - the clubs in Atlanta, even without serving booze.
We played a short, rocky intro set to warm up, under the advice of resident DJ Kevin Snow that Jax kids will want to hear what they know, and they know indie rock. We bounced back to the hotel for a bit, and returned to find the club coming alive.
We came back on at 12:30 and attempted to steer the night in a more disco-y direction. Unfortunately, the crowd wasn’t having it so we made the democratic decision to stick to the rock/indie remixes.
Tommie Sunshine showed up at 2:30 with Chuck. Tommie got on the decks and somehow made glorious destruction of the CD decks that people normally don’t try to mix with. Hours after last call, people were dancing like fiends to Tommie’s set. I asked him his secret, and he smiled: rock remixes. Ahhh, so Tommie’s magic works in careful selection of rock remixes when playing to a crowd that is less accustomed to techno.
Wait, I already knew this. The same logic can be applied to wedding djs that play top 40 hits to a drunk and horny nostalgic crowd. These people didn’t want to hear “techno” or “disco”, or really anything they could consider techno or disco, so why did people go crazy for Tommie’s set? In short, cause hes nasty, and and cause hes Tommie, and that’s just life, and I accept his ability to rock a crowd that is predisposed to not wanting to rock out.
The Sounds - Tony The Beat (Brooklyn Fire Retouch) || New Line
