The Midweek Has a Pulse
Wednesday used to mean nothing. A placeholder. A day you get through on the way to something better. The Continental doesn’t do placeholders.
They ran a full lineup from early to late, which is ambitious for a midweek and I respect the audacity. I picked my slot carefully. Dante was on deck early and I knew what that room would feel like, so I moved on it.
His funk is divine. I mean that without irony and without comedy. The kind of groove that doesn't ask anything of you except that you stop resisting it, which most of us managed within the first two tracks. The floor filled up gradually and I realized I had stopped observing and started participating, so the number of photos is somewhat limited.
We laid the groundwork for whoever came after us, which feels like a generous thing to say about what was really just a very good time. The later sets inherited a warm room. That's the least we could do.
I was home at a reasonable hour. Wednesday back to being Wednesday, except it wasn't, quite.
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This post is not sponsored or paid for in any way. I was also not blackmailed or tortured to write it.
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