I remember when I first heard house. It was about '83 or so and I was at the Garage in New York. Larry Levan was spinning up a storm, the crowd was going through its usual mad antics, and then on came this record...the way the drum machine drove the beat, and the spare, lean sound! Something exploded in my head, 'cause I knew that everything had changed. It was so different, and soon, house was king, and Chicago was the center of the universe. Marshall Jefferson, Adonis, Steve 'Silk' Hurley, Mr. Fingers, all became household names.
Then some time passed, and house moved into a wider world. New York got on the bandwagon, and house got smoother, and took on a gospel influence. At about this time, after Frankie Knuckles moved to New York and made 'Tears', house started to become the property of the world.
Back then, we all knew right away what house was because it instantly stood out from what was not house. No rules of house music were necessary, because we all had a common frame of reference. Either you were part of the vibe, or you weren't. But for somebody in Reykjavik, Iceland to try to comprehend our vibe, hard and fast rules became inevitable. Now good house is made in every part of the globe, but there are about 500,000 rules that define what makes house house and that, my friends, is my complaint.
In the beginning, house was a beautiful experiment, and since there were no rules, nobody was afraid to experiment, the music was lively, and had variety. Now house has become a multi-million dollar worldwide commodity, and no one wants to take a chance. The rules are followed to the letter, in Chicago, or in Sydney.
There'll be a new house reflections soon, see you then.