The brainchild of Cape Town DJ/Producers Willie Els (Pziezzo Electric) and Allan Slow (Multicrisis), the night launched on the 25 February with the twofold aim of becoming a successful monthly drum ‘n bass night in Cape Town, and also to launch devastation.fm – a website dedicated to bringing the South African audience the very best in local and international drum ‘n bass happenings through weekly podcasts, reviews and the like.

The first two events brought with them a reasonable amount of success, but hosting the third at Assembly meant the night was always going to be taken up a couple of notches! With the event held just down the road from the venue that plays host to the biggest, and longest running d ‘n b party in SA (Homegrown at Mercury), the choice of venue was a bold step indeed – it could’ve gone either way, but it ended up going the way of one sick party!

The line up boasted the who’s who of the current new school of d ‘n b DJ’s coming up through the ranks of the Mother City. Whilst names like Counterstrike, Niskerone and SFR have established themselves in the game; it’s refreshing to see the emergence of a new crop of talent. Behind the decks at Devastation in the annex were upstarts like Half-Life, Mysterion, Totem and Riot Squad whilst the main stage hosted well known acts Hyphen, Bruce Willis??, and of course hosts Pziezzo Electric and Multicrisis.

With such a strong line up, most people spent the night going back and forth between the annex and the main stage as beats competed for ear time with increasing ferocity. The club reached capacity by midnight and the resultant combination of a full club and otherworldly bass music meant that every person was lost in their own piece of euphoria. Few genres bring about such a change in people as drum ‘n bass. All pretence is left at the door, and devotees lose themselves in the music in a way that most other genres (with the exception of perhaps psytrance) just don’t command. Flaying limbs and contorted facial expressions; sweaty bodies and spilled drinks – this is what a night out should be. All about the music!

Highlights included the ever-improving Riot Squad (keep an eye out for an upcoming one small seed feature on the boys) and Pziezzo Electric commanding the main set around 1am. By that stage of the night, the visuals do more to your brain than when you first walked in – usually a good indicator that you’re pretty wasted – and you’re left staring open mouthed in a state of total bliss as the bass pulsates all around you. The next event cannot come soon enough!

words by: Cameron Duncan, photography by Gregg Smith

I always knew it would be a riot. Let’s be honest, there’s no room for good intentions when a public holiday is there to back you up the next day. Thursday night’s sequence of now-hazy incidents led to a fast-food ‘refuel, re-think and repress’ two days inside. But all was redeemed by Sunday morning; it was Easter after all. No egg hunts or tedious family lunches this   year, just one pale pair of idle hands, shitty TV and even shittier weather. Only one certainty remained: a fucking good reason to get out the flat, now. It was time to get Turkeyed. It was time to cause a riot.

Cold Turkey is a fortnightly dubstep event at the District 6 Café – an awesome little spot that hides a rustic multi-level outdoor space that’s wonderfully dirty even before the bass begins. It was my second Cold Turkey – somehow I’d blanked my entire way through the summer parties – so no looking forward to lazy, warm afternoons to ease my way into Monday’s glory. Thing is, like Cold Turkey, with some parties you realise it’s not about the promise of clear blue skies and rising temperatures; it’s simply about the music. About the beats that bring smiles, over-priced hangovers and, if you’re lucky, an innocent, intoxicated youth-like kiss. Amongst a bunch of wide-eyed new faces all stoked to be out in the rain, here I was, just another wet turkey about to get fried.

The feeling of summer was still around and amplified by the wub-wub behind the decks, the taste of some sweet, sweet green, and the steady flow of sometimes-cold Black Label quarts. Yep, this was the type of party where even though I never drink beer I found myself wondering why the hell not. You half expect the vodka and tequila to run out by nine, so when it does you’re not worried… I mean, there’s always Suitcases, and more beer.

Before long, after-hour phonecalls and new friends are being made, time speeds up and suddenly no one has smokes. What a goddamn scene. One all-too familiar, one I can’t seem to get enough of. The energy feels different though. I have an unusual appreciation to be amongst the unfamiliar. No fronts or agendas and no lingering, hostile expectations here. And no reason to sit on the edge. Inside the concrete graffiti walls I have discovered a ‘cassette culture’ – no boomboxes but the authenticity and collected excitement was raw and rolling in all directions, and then past curfew.

Maybe it was more than simply the music, there was something building that night that felt bigger than the beats. A feeling for sure, a movement even? Shit, who knows, maybe it was just the drugs? Or Easter weepings from above? Whatever the reason that made this party a special one, ultimately Cold Turkey represented what dubstep is really all about – letting go of your bullshit, feeling alive, and yes, causing a bit of a riot on the dancefloor.

words: sarah claire picton

images: cold turkey