We get to the airport 45mins. before our flight. Miserable woman at ticket counter sees us as rich yuppies off to frolic in Miami while she slaves away at her underpaid, insignificant job. She lies to us that we're too late to catch our plane. She tells us that we'll never make it past security in time and will have to spend the rest of the day on stand-by. Considering that we flew out of Hartford, security is relatively lax and we usually get away with arriving 20mins. before the plane leaves. As we trudge towards the gates for the next flight, we see that there is virtually no line at the metal detectors and plenty of seats open on all flights. We lose three hours.
We land in Ft. Lauderdale and take the shuttle to SoBe. We check in and unpack. As soon as we step outside, we get caught in a fucking monsoon. We wind up buying a new bowl at the smoke shop on 11th St. and smoking in the hotel room until all of the other EZD peeps start filtering in. After everyone arrives, we smoke some more...and get some coffee. We all go back to the hotel and smoke some more afterwards. Although some peeps decide to go to Crobar, Olga and I are too tired from a busy day of traveling and smoking. We smoke some more and go to bed.
Ultra. We get there mid-afternoon and head straight to the progressive tent. The lineup got rearranged because some DJs couldn't make it. The ones who did, put on an amazing show considering that they only have about an hour or two on the decks and the equipment keeps going haywire. Every so often, we walk around to the other tents while doing our best to avoid the DnB tent in the middle of the park. That tent has the volume cranked up to 11 and is full of prepubescent crackheads jumping around like kangaroos on speed. Every time we walk by, we stick our fingers in our ears and try to avoid having some 12 yr old step on us.
Overall, Ultra has a great vibe and is virtually drama-free. Most genres of electronica are well represented. The acoustics are remarkably good considering that the tents are blaring different DJ sets outdoors with some no more than 500 ft apart form one another. The only disappointment is the 30min. wait for water in any of the few beverage tents sprinkled around the park. I can't say that any particular DJ set is disappointing. Nevertheless, PVD is relatively weak considering his past performances...But, still worth seeing. Tiesto is every bit as cheesy and as prone to train wrecking as usual. Regardless, we go home happy...mostly because of Ultra.
Space. Considering that we waited in line for three hours for PVD last October, we decide to get there early. Unfortunately, we get there a bit too early. We wait for close to an hour for the doors to open. Once inside, we wait another hour or so for the main room to open. Bonham opens with some awesome Digweed-esque tech house and gets the crowd moving. PVD takes over after a few hours and spins the best set I've heard from him and probably any other DJ. He is so good that I barely dance and just sit there listening.
We smoke and do other stuff.
Deciding to forgo Tenaglia at Space on Moday and catch his afterhours on Tuesday, we find out from Lubahead's phone call that he fizzled by early afternoon. We smoke instead. Later that night, we go to Steam (the former Liquid). We get there early and stand in the guestlist line. After close to an hour of waiting and after seeing every passerby get inside through the normal line, we ask ourselves the merits of being in the guestlist line. We find out that regular admission is $10. Turns out we stood around for a measly $10 comp. We shell out the $10 each and get in immediately through the normal line. Since the club is still relatively empty, we find a couch and some cushions in an alcove behind the speakers right in front of the DJ booth. We take our consumables and wait to be dazzled. The opening DJ is merely OK. Eventually, Seaman takes over and spins an unremarkable set plagued by quite a number of train wrecks and way too few buildups. While Parks didn't make it, Wilson follows Seaman with an equally unimpressive performance. His track selection is rather mechanical and soulless, almost as if he popped in a CD and pressed the shuffle button. The highlight of the evening is from Moshic and Zidan. They tear the place apart and acquire a new fan in the process.
Considering how early Steam closes, we leave for Space to give Tiesto another shot. Tiesto surprises the shit out of all of us. He spins the kind of set he only plays outside of the U.S. He blows us away with deep, dark trance that seems unlikely from a DJ reputed to only spin Velveeta in these parts of the globe. It dawns on me why the rest of the world seems to like him so much. Unfortunately, this is probably a rare occurrence and he'll surely go back to spinning cheese elsewhere in the States. Darren Pearce packs the terrace after Tiesto thins out. The terrace is genuinely reminiscent of Space's sister club in Ibiza. There's something to be said for clubbing outside in the early afternoon. Then again, some people belong out of the direct sunlight.
We stop by for some breakfast and spend the remaining part of the day enjoying some fresh talent at some of the beachside lounges. We get a ride to the airport and wave goodbye to the fleeting memories of our time at the WMC. I wish I remembered more. Unfortunately, my memory isn't what it used to be.
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