Brighton Fusion » Positive Sounds

Positive Sounds 17th birthday @ Concorde 2

MarekTheCzech — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 13:09:34 +0000

Image taken from the Positive Sounds Flickr

Fuck me! Positive Sounds are 17 years old! If you’re a Brightonian, or from around Brighton, you will at some point have come across the Positive Sound System. Be it in a club, a field, the sea front, or any other place they have been able to infiltrate. To still be going strong 17 years after conception is a true feat, especially in the fluctuating world of electronic music. What keeps Positive Sounds afloat is the fact that they aren’t searching for commercial success – following often short-lived hypes and trends.

So on their 17th Birthday come join in the celebration down at the Concorde. It sure is set to be a fantastic party with the likes of Mr. C, Dave Mothersole. Simon Atkinson, Magnus Asberg and more.

Concorde 2
Start Time: 23:00
End Time: 06:00

12/09/09

Mr C

Mr C was originally most famous as the front man of The Shamen; the techno-rave outfit that scored huge hits and notoriety in the 90s with tracks like Ebeneezer Goode. But Mr C’s progress, before and after he gained global fame, has been characterised by a devotion to electronic music and a solid DJ career that sees him playing around the world plus running the underground Superfreq night both in Ibiza and in The End’s lounge on Sunday nights.

The Birth of Brighton Rave: A Feature on Positive Sound System

Amythefilmmaker — Mon, 06 Apr 2009 18:35:26 +0000

Lewes rave, 1994, from Positive Sound System flickr site

There was a time in Brighton when nightclubs were at permanent capacity, thanks in part to the big beat popularity and the city’s reputation as a party town, but underpinning the thriving night scene was the sweaty, pulsating free party scene that took over fields, beaches, mansions, vacant buildings, warehouses, coastal strips and sea archways. It didn’t take long for the police to start cracking down on all these spontaneous gatherings.

These days, free parties in the city are few and far between. Sure there’s the yearly free party down at Black Rock, which takes place after Pride, in which different sound systems pitch up for an all night party for local people and out-of-towners – rumour has it that the authorities turn a a blind eye to this yearly party for fear of a homophobic slur. Then there’s the drum n bass house parties, where nearly everyone is 17-years-old and mostly male, waiting for their turn to MC on the mic. A few years back there was a blip of steaming Spanish squat parties. There are still parties at Ditchling Beacon. We are seeing the embers of a fire, but perhaps not all is gone yet.

Over the past two decades, people – initially inspired by the acid rave sounds – cobbled together sound systems with their mates and succeeded in carrying on the tradition, innovating newer ways to elude the authorities. Positive Sound System was the name synonymous with the biggest and best sounds and system combined, putting on free parties all over East Sussex, and later moving the free party vibes back into nightclubs such as the Positive Nights at Audio. A few years ago, in September 2007, Positive celebrated 15 years of parties, the whole crew need a whole weekend just to celebrate, despite the fact that the head honchos were now pushing middle-aged.

So as not to forget the self-styled DIY approach to creating your own fun, which might be an alternative during the dark penniless days ahead, we spoke with Darren, founder of Positive Sound System. Darren recalls the birth of the Brighton rave scene back in the 1980s and talks about the influence of reggae, the technical aspects of sound systems, the never-ending battles with the police, and the fight for the right to party. Plus ca change, plus c’est la meme (the more things change, the more they stay the same).

Black Rock party, 2003

1992: why you & why then?

Darren: I started going to ‘proper’ parties in about 1985, these were either ‘Blues’ parties (organised reggae parties where you paid £1 on the door, these were every Saturday night and occasional Thursdays) or squat parties that were a bit of a free for all.

After a year of so of going to the parties and getting to know those involved, I graduated to helping carry speakers and then to DJing and finally looking after a mate’s sound system and organising a couple of reggae squat parties. Then the acid house scene burst into life and suddenly the police were cracking down hard on all the parties.

By the summer of 1988, police pressure had intensified and culminated in me getting busted setting up a reggae party at a squat venue that had hosted an Acid rave the week previous. The police were very aggressive and threatening and confiscated all our booze and kept us locked up for 12 hours. A week later one of the guys helping me died in a motorbike accident, and I decided then that I would get out of the party scene for good.

I then started to go to Acid House parties as I knew some of the organisers and DJs and kinda liked what I saw and heard. By 1990 the police had pretty much cracked down on all the Brighton parties and the summer had been virtually party free and very boring. Then me and my friends had a great idea: we’d do a party at their house to impress some girls from Croydon we’d met. I organised all the technical side of things – sound system, DJs, lights, decor – and come the night of the party, the whole road was blocked off with cars and people, the police could do nothing about it and we carried on ’til Sunday evening (well the others did, I was back home with one of the Croydon girls by this time). Come Monday, the Evening Argus did a big piece about the party with the headline “Street in Fear of All-Night Thrash”. Three days later, they were all evicted!

Flyer for club night at the Church, October 1991

Not long after this, Jim Bob (aka the Pope of Brighton) approached me to help him set up a club night as he’d been offered every Friday at the Asylum (now New Hero, previously the Loft, Church etc). He wanted me to sort out sound, DJs, lights, etc and we’d promote it together. I agreed but only if my party buddies, Sean and Ashley (who he didn’t much care for) could be involved with me and thus began my first club promotion crew, KG Promotions (I named it that after seeing an advert for KG cars and liking the sound of it).

The first club night saw queues around the block and it wasn’t long before we were getting local DJ’s like Dave Clarke to play (for £30!). All the profit was put into a joint account and the plan was to share this out at a later date. We would hire a sound system for the downstairs room and then take this off to an after-party once the club had shut at 2am – this would involve a few days preparation: breaking into a venue/empty flat, changing locks, tidying up and getting the place ready for a party.

This carried on for a few months, and we were getting more organised and building a reputation for wild, anything goes parties. But trouble was brewing, however, and the KG crew eventually had to go their separate ways from Jim’s crew. We took over the Saturday night and they had the Friday night.

DJ Neil Janabi at the Church, early 1990s

Party at Ditchling Beacon, 1994

With our share of the money, we started to build our own sound system instead of hiring in. The only sound system at that time in Brighton was a rasta crew, King Tafari Love Music, and with their influence and contacts, we started to build a reggae-style Acid House sound system. Within a few months, this had grown to about 10k and we were doing clubs and parties all over Brighton.

Then in late summer we were approached by a local gangster (Ashley was going out with his sister) and asked if we could organise a rave for him – he had the warehouse and wanted us to supply the rest. It ended up with the warehouse being surrounded by police, who then confiscated all the equipment – which we had hired from a London firm- which led to the hire firm grassing us up. We eventually ended up in court but got off with a conditional discharge after the hire firm didn’t show up in court, but this was the beginning of the end for the KG Crew and our Purple Polka Dot sound system.

For New Years Eve 1991, we had hired a massive warehouse in Hove and planned a massive semi-legal rave. Everything was going okay until about 8pm on the night when the police arrived. They were desperate to stop the party but it was down to the fire officers. After showing them round, they declared the party could go ahead. This made the police even madder, and they then got the warehouse manager down to the police station and threatened him with all kinds of stuff if the party went ahead.

By 10.30pm the police had won, and we had 1,000 plus disappointed ravers to deal with. Not the best NYE I’ve ever had – in fact the worst one ever! The next day, both Sean and Ashley decided that they didn’t want to be involved anymore and were bailing out, leaving me to deal with the fallout.

I spent the next three months trying to sort out the mess, and once everyone who had brought a ticket was sorted (some had money back and the rest I put a free club event on for them), I had had enough of organising parties and the police hassling me. I put the remainder of the sound system into storage and washed my hands of the whole party scene and tried to live a ‘normal’ life.

By autumn 1992, I was going through a painful split with my then girlfriend and by chance got asked if I wanted to get the sound system out of storage and help organise a party for a friend. I decided to give it a go – mainly to keep my mind occupied – and within a couple of months the sound system was back on the road with a new coat of paint, a new name and a new mission.

All day reggae flyer, early 1990s

You draw your sound system’s lineage from the Jamaican soundsystem – why & how?

The whole culture and style of reggae sound systems impressed me. They had selectors who chose the records, DJ’s who played them, the MC’s who gee’d the crowd, a sound engineer who worked the system, the box boys who carried speakers and then there was the bar staff, door crew and security. Any trouble was dealt with properly, and they knew how to handle the police. You couldn’t even sit on the floor at the Blues parties – if you did, you were rudely told to “get off the floor!” – quite a far cry from the chaotic squat parties I’d been going to.

We styled ourselves system on the reggae sound systems, who use ’scoop’ bass bins to create eyeball-quivering bass. I was influenced by the Brighton reggae sound system King Tafari, who had one of the best sounding systems in the UK at that time. They achieved this by splitting the sound into four frequencies as opposed to the normal three frequencies (Bass/Mid/Treble). I wanted to split the frequencies up to 6 times (Sub Bass/Bass/Mid Bass/Mid/Upper Mid/Treble) to get a true high fidelity sound. We achieved this by having a purpose built 6-way crossover (the bit of kit that splits the frequencies coming from the music).

Reggae also influenced Acid House parties in numerous ways: starting with remixes of current tunes (a staple at reggae parties was at least three remixes of the latest tune, often with a guest MC boasting about how good that particular sound system was), the introduction of MC’s (most of whom also MC’d at reggae parties), the oversized sound systems, and of course the eventual birth of Jungle and D nB all owe their existence to reggae.

LAST BUT NOT LEAST

Want to check out more photos from the parties, people and places that were part of the Postive Sound System time? Check out their flickr site: http://www.flickr.com/photos/positivesoundsystem/

BONUS : OLD SCHOOL MIXES FOR DOWNLOAD

Here’s a couple of old school rave mixes from two Brighton DJs who continue carrying on the free party tradition and can be seen in clubs and free parties alike: DJ Aize (Cut Loose) and Pook (Brap FM/Archangel).

Ain’t Slept In Days mix – DJ Aize

Download audio file (beatroutesessions_oldskoolsession89-92.mp3)
POok’s February Old Skool Session (BeatRouteSessions on Brap.FM Wednesdays 8-10 pm with POok)

Positive 13th B’day // Concorde2

admin — Sat, 01 Oct 2005 12:48:40 +0000

Magnus Asberg, Simon Atkinson, Liz Edwards, Rochester , DJ Mee, DJ Kooki, DJ Shreddie

Those guys. You have to love them.

In typical Fusion style, the night started with the best of intentions. “A few pre-club drinks, maybe?” What was I thinking?

My night kicked off well before 7pm, with the discovery that I’d been locked out of my house. 1.23pm. Two big plastic bags full of groceries, 12 rolls of toilet paper, and I’m standing outside my house on the verge of tears. I’d only woken up an hour earlier, finding myself clutching a phone, still wearing my red suede coat and lying in an unknown living room. “Where the hell am I?” was my first thought. Memory clicked in. Barnie’s living room. I never left. I phoned my friends at 7 in the morning. And I was holding the evidence. Shit.

After several cups of coffee, profuse apologies for not managing my way home, and a coke laced with generous capfuls of vodka to kick off the edge of an impending hangover, I caught the bus home. Slumped and crumpled, I slouched in my seat, looking in a very sorry state, even for a Saturday.

I was in the process of feeling sorry for myself when Marek phoned just as I passed Waterstones. “Where are you?” he asked.

“I’m on the bus and I’ve just noticed the state of my coat. It’s covered in black shit. It looks like I’ve been rolling around in the gutter.”

“Were you?” he asked, slightly intrigued.

“No.”

Marek wanted advice on hairdressers, but I told him my people were probably already booked up. “It’s Saturday,” I pointed out.

“Oh yeah,” he said. “Do you think if I phoned up like every hairdressers, I could find a place to get haircut today?”

“No,” I said, re-examining my sleeve. Why did I leave it on the floor of Ocean Rooms? “My coat is ruined.”

“What if I call round to different places?”

“Marek, I said no.”

“I really need to get my hair cut.”

“My coat. Marek – my hair looks like a rat’s nest, I’m still wearing my makeup from last night, my trousers are dirty, and I’m wearing some scarf thing for a top…god, was is this? Do you understanding what I look like?”

Marek muttered some condolences, then mumbled something about Princess Superstar. I wasn’t getting the sympathy vote. Oh well.

“I phoned you last night,” I informed him.

“Really? I don’t remember that.”

“Yeah. At about 4. I asked if I could borrow your guns and you kept asking me what I put up my nose.”

“Really? I answered the phone?”

“Yeah. You seemed to be awake when I was talking to you. Why do you answer the phone if you’re asleep?”

“I don’t know – it might be important. I might have won the lottery.”

Nice one.

“Phone your hairdresser and you might be booked for next week if you’re lucky.” Marek promises to phone me back.

Meanwhile, I’ve been to the fashion walkway that is the Hove Station Tescos, looking charming, bought stuff, then trudged home. To find yourself barred from your own nightclub is never nice but Marek saves the day by phoning me a taxi. I wait alongside Old Shoreham being a little too Jewish Princess-like even for my taste.

Food, wine. I remember having an extended phone conversation with Eliot but I’m not sure what about. I remember making Marek put on every good record from his collection. I remember Marek disappearing to have a shower. I remember discussing the Usher dance routine to “Caught Up” with KW on the phone.

Then sleep washes over me and the next thing I see is Marek and Eliot standing at the foot of the bed trying to wake me up. “Get up, you cunt,” says Mikesh, Marek’s cat. So I do.

Eliot’s got an ipod! It’s like x-mas all over again. We walk up the chilly Neville Avenue up the emporium of good taste, the Mecca of all pubs, the Grenadier. I offer to get the first round, but the barmaid refuses to call out “Oi, you cunts, come get your drinks” to Eliot and Marek. She brings them over instead. The Grenadier is quality with an ipod. Eliot chooses tuns while I listen and observe the silent film of Marek and Eliot talking nonsense. “Try it,” I say to Marek, handing over the headphones.

We leave.

The boys order Chinese takeaway, then we taxi it down to the Concorde.

Greg waves us past. The Positive party was well underway, with sizeable crowds getting down in both the bar and the main room. Having control of the Fusion camera for the night meant I was a little less preoccupied with the music, but I did manage to get kicked off the stage (once) and I kept jumping up on the crowd barrier to urge party people down below (whywhywhy?) on. Confirmation: people were FEELING IT. My job done, I found Marek and Eliot down front doing a lot of chin-stroking, looking like New Jersey gangsters. Overhead: “You know, that dj’s not bad…” We stayed in the main room for 2 cycles, then went to check out the vibe of the bar. “Liking it…”

The thing that makes a good night out is always the personal, which inevitably makes club reviews like this myopc, slightly fractured and slightly skewed, and I’m not referring to the levels of booze and drugs consumed. I have no complaints about going with Marek and Eliot that night – they are Brighton ’s IT boys, after all – but part of me feels sad not to have all the usual suspects down that night. My personal Top 10 list of favorite people. Daz, Positive’s front man, and his girlfriend Angie were still travelling the world. Son was there of course. But, not Darren, KW, Martin or the rest of my breakdance crew. No Dickie and the rest of the Colchie massive. No Kesh, no Alex, no Nina, Will or Jammie. Sigh. Your absence was noted and missed sorely. Where were you all?

Still, that small tear aside, it was good to go down and toast the Positive crew in proper style. Okay, sans champagne, but it was a rum n coke night for me and you can’t sniff at that. I won’t give you the complete history of who Positive are, but I’ve always been grateful for and never less than impressed by their free parties over the years. The ones that stick in my head are less specific dates and more a random jumble of memories, which is what going out is all about anyways:

Black rock…summer…the mansion party…watching the sun come up…falling in love…losing all the friends I arrived with…then running into other ones…sharing beer with the Indonesian posse…the warehouse party where the dj threw down Kool & the Gang’s (www.koolandthegang.com) “Celebration” and Talking Head’s “Same As It Ever Was” almost in the same breathe…

(Note re above: I’m not talking bootlegs, but if you ain’t got enough life in your love, go play – see below.)

And the inevitable afterword: “Come on, let’s hustle,” says Marek.

“Oh god, please, not here,” I cry.

“Not the dance, you fool. Taxi – now!”

I pissed M&E plus the taxi driver off by having extended convo with Greg, then we step on it to the boy’s fave watering hole, only to find the place over-run by townies-from-hell and management desperate to get rid. “Let us in,” we implore. “I can’t,” the bar man pleads. Being the decent folk that we are, we taxi it back to Hove , where Marek feeds us the strangest alcohol I’ve ever tasted. “What are you people feeding me?” I bellow. “I said I wanted booze.”

“It is,” Marek says. I’m being nice. Drink it.”

Eliot holds up his shot glass and gives me a conspiratorial nod. I swear the stuff makes me pass out.

Apparently a fire was lit and it was all a cosy end to the evening but don’t ask me. I clearly wasn’t there.

What’s Your Favorite Bootleg?

Hot: “Galvanise” ( cry.on.my.console’s galvatron remix feat. Katie Enlow)
http://www.chemicalbrothersremixed.com/main.html

A bit silly: “Happy Behavior” (bjork/mary J Blige)
http://www.gohomeproductions.co.uk/pop/ghp_happy_behaviour.mp3

…aw, fuck it – you kids know where the good music is!

Bass x

Concorde2
http://www.concorde2.co.uk/

Madeira Shelter Hall,
Madeira Drive
Brighton
BN2 1EN

Telephone: 01273 697888
Booking office: 01273 673311
Fax: 01273 696157

info@concorde2.co.uk

Words: Amy the Film Maker