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Credits
Photos taken on a Sony DSC-P3 digital camera by myself, Dave Nabi, Andrew
Coyne and countless strangers who had my deepest trust with my new toy.
Special
Note
Instead of a load of abstract photos, this week's set has come to be mostly
focused on people, and it turns out to be appropriately so. Earlier in
the evening, we received some bad news, and some of our friends couldn't
join us. I was already intoxicated at the time, and when it finally sunk
in later what happened, I felt terrible.
Out of respect, I in some ways didn't want to put this page up. However,
I promised a lot of people that the evening's pictures will be up. So
I've chosen to go ahead and post, and to dedicate this page to our friends.
You know who you are :)
Love & Respect,
Omid
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PARTY
NAKED : Partying With the Naked Music Crew
Click on (most) pictures to enlarge.
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| It
was all about the music. Puffy-faced from lack of sleep,
hair unkempt, and wearing a ratty screened t-shirt and check
pants that no one else likes, I was the anti-clubber tonight.
I just wanted to see and hear Miguel Migs and Lisa Shaw,
headliners of the Naked Music Tour. Of all the club nights
I've hit this year, this was for some reason the most anticipated.
So we made the 40 minute drive up the 101 to San Francisco...
in about 20 minutes. |
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| Naturally,
we got there too early, so we hit the snooty area around
Pac Bell Park and headed to the upscale Paragon for their
signature Mojito - a near-deadly Cuban concoction of crushed
limes and mint, with just a splash (ok, an assload) of rum.
Properly lubed, we headed back to the south end of China
Basin to Kelly's Mission Rock, the warehouse-sized restaurant/club
that hangs over the bay. |
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| When
I say it hangs over the bay, I mean that literally. And
that makes for great views from the two decks, as well as
an easy way to cool off after heating things up on the dancefloor.
While the outside was lit elegantly with candles and rope
lights, the interior was mostly illuminated by projections
on banners hanging from the rafters. |
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| Dave
and I met up with the rest of the crew on the deck upstairs.
(L-R) Afram and Dave share the latest in sign language with
the camera, while Laura shows off her straw hat and down
jacket ensemble. Illustrating how short I am, I get in the
middle of a Ted-Kelly sandwich. (Not pictured: Sherman,
Andrew) |
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| Using
the eyelid intoxometer, you can tell that I was already
nicely lit. Combined with a dire lack of sleep and incredible
music, you could say I was pretty much in another dimension
altogether. While my squint/puff quotient was nowhere near
that experienced in the Club
Six pictorial, it wasn't a Spundae
level of sobriety, either. I had achieved a nice balance.
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| As
soon as Miguel Migs went on, all eyes turned to the decks
to watch the master at work. Attendees were treated to the
added bonus of the incomparable Ms. Lisa Shaw on live vocals
while Migs spun his brand of deep, soulful house. |
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| With
capable backing, Lisa Shaw absolutely tore up the vocals
and from the start, everyone knew, it was going to be an
incredible night of music and a nonpareil vibe. (She'll
drink to that!) |
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| One
of the few abstract pictures of this set, the obligatory
Exit signs. |
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| Downstairs
on the outdoor dancefloor, it was just as solid. I started
out DJing on CDs - and getting ridiculed for it - so it
was refreshing to see this gentleman laying down the funk
with digital decks. How deep was his groove? Enough to get
Bebe and friends into a freaky mood. (I think that's
her name.) |
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| Back
upstairs, I hooked back up with Andrew and Laura. We got
a bit starstruck, I suppose - Ted got his 12-inches (records,
you perv) signed by Lisa and Miguel, while lumpy me posed
for a shot with the Man himself. |
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| One
of the most noticeable things about the SF scene (besides
having some of the best music & DJs on earth) is how
the people are so friendly and diverse. From glamour girls
to dapper men with handlebar mustaches, we've got it all. |
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| And
you couldn't help but notice all the smiles. Count them
- that's 9 smiles right here on this line! |
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| Two
more smiles... Three more.. Another couple... and one furry
hat... who wasn't having a good time? |
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| After
last call, everyone kept going - thanks to Red Bull and
water, the ravers' communal liquids, I suppose. If it wasn't
for Red bull & water, I wouldn't have made the acquaintance
of Leslie (in red) who came all the way up from Santa Cruz
to see Miguel Migs in action. |
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Through
the night, I met tons of new people whom I'll likely never
see again. But we all shared in a great night, and that's
what matters. We listened to the music, took a handful of
photos, introduced ourselves to each other, and I forgot
most people's names. But Renee, Leslie and Bebe - you sacrificed
your reputations to be in photos with my highly-schnockered
ass, so I won't forget ya!
Much thanks to everyone for an incredible night. If you're
not familiar with the stylings of the Naked Music label,
go out and pick up the Nude Dimensions seris of compilations
- you won't be sorry. |
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