DENNIS FERRER & OSKIDO ROCK BUT FAIL TO MAKE US TOUCH THE SKY

By Nick Kaoma

As the crowds gathered at the entrance of Roosevelt, Cape Town’s cosmopolitan but cutting-edge club, I sensed an ambience in the air that suggested that peeps although were amped to party till the morning sun rose, many were too anxious to know what to officially expect from the world-renowned songwriter-producer-DJ Dennis Ferrer. After all Dennis F is known for packing more aces up his sleeve than a small time Las Vegas magician.

As for myself, I was astutely aware of the tirade that Dennis’ bombastic sounds would cause on these house fanatics, my lengthy chat to him earlier in the day revealed a persona that is obsessed with two things: music and pleasing people. And as luck might have it, all that people want is for him to please them with his peerless music.

The evening’s festivities were instigated by the duo DJ crew of Leighton and Kassiem, two Cape Town boys who to my amazement had the crowd eating out of their palms unashamedly. They belted out monster after monster, and they drove the wild crowd into a frenzy that resembled the V&A Waterfront at Christmas time. By the time the main acts for the evening, Dennis Ferrer and Oskido, stepped onto the podium the discerning crowd was as hyped as Jabu Pule in a township tavern surrounded by a bevy of honeys.

The New York born house maestro wasted little time to take the notch to the next level; no slow jams, no warm-up tracks, he went straight into a buoyant track laced with a menacing bass line and hypnotic drums that hit the crowd right where it mattered - their bosoms.

He dug further into his vinyl bag (or should I say laptop), and unleashed joints whose spellbinding soulful, tribal, afro and techno sensibilities bordered on the insane. The mesmerized crowd danced approvingly like a bunch of Native Americans around a ritual fire in worship of their ancestors.

In the midst of all this euphoria, the unthinkable happened; just as Dennis F was reaching the apex of his set, the club manager instructed the sound guys to cut the music off – apparently someone had called the cops, what the f…???? Clearly that wouldn’t matter; we were at a nightclub where sinful reveling is allowed till whatever ungodly hour. Boy were we wrong, the typically racially bigoted cops insisted that the party be shut down as “neighbours were complaining about the noise”. And it was only 2am in the morning! Talk about bullshit at its most tertiary level!

So we all reluctantly left the premises and thought regrettably about the night that could have been. Call the cops when you see….. .. decent black people having harmless fun!

The Sky was apparently too ambitious a target for us to touch!