Back at Basics - a significant juncture in the annals of history

First of all I'd like to state - as per our agreement (and empirical evidence) - that Katie Knowles is "mint". She's thirty-seven years old from Yeadon; she's got a real classy tat on her back; she shagged your dad and she's certainly not sorreh (she spells it "sorrah" - phonetically my way is much better) - the mighty Katie "Balls" Knowles takes no prisoners, and she is absolute fucking class!

Here's a beautiful snap if you're thinking you want a piece of that ass - you better be a muscly handsome fucker though:

The saucy minx herself...

Anyway, on with the show...

This Saturday just gone saw an end to my recent fascination with staying in at the weekend, and thus the end of my two-month hiatus from one of my favourite activities in the whole wide world: Back To Basics.

I can't claim for one moment to be one of the Basics 'old guard' - I've only been going regularly for about 3 years now - but I'd like to think of myself as one of the Basics faithful, a friend of the club, and certainly a subscriber to its values: tolerance, hedonism and house music.

Mr Dave Beer has been running this institution of the Leeds scene for nearly 19 years now, and he (and we) are still alive and smashing our way through our Saturday nights - each episode seemingly more rawkus than the last.

This Saturday was a Basics with a twist: a fifteen-hour riot spread across two venues, with about twenty dj's - with about 3.8billion records between 'em, and enough talent for you to question your worthiness. The buzz around the collection of horrors I call my mates was at boiling point by Friday, and were it not for the arrival of Madden 11, and my need to purchase an overpriced outfit which I will wear only once - for my cousin's wedding (in Israel, on a beach - BOOM!), I would have been with them when they got ever so slightly carried away that evening.

Thanks to my sensible itinerary I was fresh and fighting fit for an early start - the first venue (house-oriented and culinarily cosmopolitan bar and restaurant, Distrikt - well the courtyard) opened at two o'clock in the afternoon, and the plan was to head down with a few of the horrors at five or six. At eight o'clock, our taxi remained un-ordered and I had re-acquainted myself with getting really arseholed via a bottle of rosé - my friend Adam and I were becoming increasingly agitated at the inability of our team-mates to show any urgency whatsoever.

It seemed like we were never gonna bloody leave, and we were almost resigned to missing the courtyard party. However, Adam and I were given fresh impetus by the intrigue, humour, but most of all fear brought about by the advances of a very strange gentleman from my mate's block of flats. He emerged from the front door and ambled his way over to us, to explain that his name was "Dmitri", he was from Moscow and that he had served in the Russian Army in a parachute division.

I have a good friend who is Russian, and my suspicions were quickly aroused that this "Dmitri" had fed us false information about his nationality. We spoke in broken English about parties and university, but he seemed to have an alterior motive other than pure conversation - Adam's instant suspicion was that Dmitri was making a sexual advance. Despite conjuring up a whirlwind of rhetorical persuasion, I was unable to convince Adam to accept. Dmitri told us that Moscow had gone down the shitter - because it's full of Chinese, Pakistanis and Africans. Adam and I, as we are both Jewish, were understandably concerned by these views, and so I was moved to go on the offensive.

The Russians have a special word - an idea that represents a recurring right of passage for many of them: it is known simply as zapoy, which quite literally means "binge". When one of our newly-liberalised pals decides to go on zapoy, he'll gather together his good mates, stock up the bar in his £10,000,000 flat in Kensington, and drink until they either run out of booze, run out of steam or die. What I'm trying to say is, zapoy represents the essence of the Russian lifestyle.

I decided that asking Dmitri about zapoy would either provoke a quality anecdote, a wry smile, or a look of sheer bemusement - specifically the latter...and guess what? I was right. He clearly had no clue what I was talking about until I reverted to the English trademark of presuming the stupidity of my new friend, increasing the volume and decreasing the speed of my voice, and performing mimes immitating drinking alcohol and vomiting. He laughed, we said our goodbyes, and he trudged back up to his flat to do fuck-knows-what.

Although it was wierd and scary (he had the all-the-way-unbuttoned shirt look going on), the encounter shocked us into life, forcing me to bite the bullet and order the bloody cabs.

Well, that was an unplanned digression but I trust it proved an entertaining read...

We got to Distrikt and there were maybe 50 or so people in the courtyard - most of whom were sat on the benches with their pints (fo' lads) and two 'alves (fo' lasses), having a good old chinwag and bopping away to the deep but most definitely pumping house & techno of resident Jon Woodall (see picture below from the day - intellectual property of K. Knowles) - who was already in full flow.

The rest of the punters - including a few pals of mine who got down there on time, were stood predictably right next to the tables, leaving a nice open dancefloor for my un-inhibited, organisationally-challenged friends to prance around. As time went on, Woodall upped the tempo, and the whoops and whistles of approval grew in number and volume. The dancefloor filled up, and Jon pulled out some great tunes, which as usual were delivered with absolute precision and genuine pleasure. Woodall is great to watch behind the decks - when the DJ is rocking out and enjoying himself, the crowd feed off it, and we certainly fed off Jon.

The party continued well into the evening at Distrikt, with only a few minor technical hitches - the silence following the music cutting out was rapidly dismissed with a hearty rendition of Marching On Together...Leeds Leeds Leeds:

 Click here if you fancy listening to that beautiful song!

It was a treat to see Beero on the decks - and his introduction of some traditional wood percussion went down an absolute treat:

...the man himself

Saturday was the first chance I'd had to listen to Beero and Basics record label colleague Gareth Whitehead's new joint venture 'The Blessed', and I was pretty impressed with their live set. Whitehead gave an assured performance with his Ableton Live controller and they kept the party going nicely.

Given the state of the crowd at Distrikt, the continuation of the bash at Basics' usual home, MyHouse, was a mouthwatering prospect. Me and my band of merry men hopped, skipped and jumped into the fray to the sound of James Holroyd, who brought his usual blend of disco and house - classic and contemporary...Boggy hammered out some of his most potent weapons - one of my boys made a right mess in his pants as James treated him to "Soul Magic" by YBU as he strolled in to the sound of wedding bells.

Following Boggy was Richie Ahmed - some completely fresh meat to sink my teeth into! I'd heard Richie's name mentioned before but I'd not heard him DJ...it's fair to say Richie rose to the challenge of Basics - we can be an unforgiving crowd if you get sloppy, but Ahmed trotted out a selection of tunes with Basics all over it, his mixing was tight and he kept the groove going perfectly. The crowd was alive and we brought our whoops, whistles and cheers down from Distrikt - Basics had delivered yet again and I was absolutely effing loving it!

Now for the main event - I'd been up for seeing Robert James since I heard "Sleep Moods", a great little tune on Hot Creations (HOTC002), and he's a Leeds boy as well - always a bonus. Sleep Moods has all the trademarks of a Hot Creations track: the dark and prominent bassline; the soulful vocals (they sound like Janet Jackson to me) and the cosmic squeaks and bleeps that Jamie Jones, Lee Foss and friends have been hitting us with recently. Jones is the undoubted pioneer of this new disco-house sound, and he's been absolutely on fire recently - the recording from his emergency appearance at Plastic People in April (where he stepped in at the last minute to replace Motor City Drum Ensemble) has been one of the most widely circulated recordings of the summer, and it is absolutely brilliant. You can catch Sleep Moods at about 40:30:

http://soundcloud.com/r_co/jamie-jones-live-plastic-people-london-16-04-2010 by R_co

Unfortunately, my health on the night deteriorated somewhat (before Robert jumped on the decks) and I ended up going back to my mates' gaff to kick off our afterparty.

We were lucky enough to have Frenchy, Tristan da Cunha and Richie Ahmed back to our afterparty, but I was adamant that my mate Dave and I had our chance to impress the lads who are in the position to which we're aspiring at the moment...it sounds cheesy and a bit sad, but it was a massive thrill for me to play in front of those boys, even if it was in a dirty Hyde Park kitchen/living area!

Anyway...I think I may have gone on just about enough here! There's an hour of your life you'll never get back.

Bottom Line: Basics continues to deliver, and if you don't like it? Well you're just wrong.