Illadelphia – Cloud spotted sunshine beckoned southward. A $40 ticket from craigslist and a rare day off coincided in a parking garage adjacent to the Delaware River Sunday afternoon. Street parking problematic, paying for rented space saved worry while vouching for a free beer from an overtly rude barkeep.
Quick grope down complete before the tricorder beeped, signalling all was well with this patron’s papers. A steady trickle of attendees following the chute as it opened to
Audrey Napoleon getting crazy on the decks. L.A. to the max, her performance radiating Napoleon’s intoxicating energy crowdward. Attempting to keep the art in artist, her self described dark romance beats thumped from twin walls of speakers. Early arrivals moved in time, pressing forward.
A well located parking lot, Penn’s Landing is a field of asphalt abutting the Delaware River on its’ journey. A pair of stages, food vendors and a long building housing an indoor stage for the “VIPs” private evening show. EDM enthusiasts filtering in to fill the space by late afternoon.
Drawing in loads of locals, college kids and a radius of travelers Identity Festival’s Philadelphia stop was one of fifteen dates ranging mostly down the east coast.
A younger crowd flooding a scene only recently rising up from the underground as the possibilities of electronic music heavily confluence large portions of the present mainstream. White, suburban and mostly good natured, the kids come to carouse and celebrate youth at damaging decibels. Stereotypes aside, it’s always about the music.
Underage drinkers getting quashed by men who probably drank much younger. Lust for alcohol bringing many young folk to implore the minority party of legal imbibers for the low, low price of $11 a somewhat cold tall boy. Afternoon waning, grey clad forty somethings made the rounds, carding any youthful spectator with can in hand.
A heavily European lineup differed from other stops on the tour as it rotated headliners in and out. Arty’s synth laden imported upbeat trance bounced toward the river.
Kids breaking the rules, a mob trickling back and forth between alternating stages or hiding in the shade provided by trees and structure. Crowd surfing in their rebellion.
Skipped a set to sit on the ground, watching large scale stage pieces moved into place and readied. A day of house music further readying oneself for coming wobblings of bass.
Off stage headliner imminent, a full house crushed forward. Entitlement is the ‘merican way these days some say and at any show many concertgoers feel they deserve your view more that you do. Formed a wall with a few others after waiting 90 minutes for the spot.
The best of Canadian wompsters, Excision’s expanded stage presence blazed into life as the man appeared atop his visual display. Robot stomping every previous set the one and only dubstepticon proceeded to sonically annihilate those present with his usual grace.
Lowest registers of the bass clef assaulted the brain, vibrations scaling upward from quaking pavement. Jostling as due course, mob fluctuating rhythmically to his manipulations.
One of the longest sets of the day ended far too quickly, fleeing into the night as Excision signed off. Little else to do in the dark, movement en masse toward flashing lights. Swede Eric Prydz ended the show, euro house crushing through thousands. Ears rang for a week.
Swallowed by the herd through the fenced chute toward Columbus Boulevard. Tanks hissing into balloons right on the street amongst milling flocks.
Flashing lights, police already picking out early targets on the roadside, nitrous ignored. Echoing footsteps punctuated by the laughs and shrieks of overstimulated youth to find conveyance safely intact. A few miles dodging exodus and civil servant patrols before rubber hummed northward along 95, hurrying away from urbanity to echoing eardrums.