Mickey Martins 29th September 2007
Stroll in to city centre of a Saturday night and watch the youngsters head towards the Trinity Rooms as the oldsters, a less visable but equally active tribe, comfortably settle into The White House, Tom Collins and the like. Limerick is a village when a saturday night stroll is on the cards. Spots are easily distinguised once the option of Sky sports is taken out of the equation and a decent bar with a good mix of young and old in the village can be easily narrowed down.
Mickeys alleyway, or Augustinian Lane to give it its government name, proudly celebrates itself as such a spot and loudly celebrates once a month with the blasting old funk sets by Djs A2df and Rainers. This monthly night is nearly a year old now and only keeps getting better. Its old funk, boogie, latin, and soul in a 5 hour relentless mix presided over by these two dedicated collectors.
All their records are those 45'swith the big hole in them that those of a certain age may remember falling out of the back of the jukebox in the pool room when the bad lads made a shot at getting at the money box. These loud platters are a big deal with Dj's in the know, who pay serious dollars for 3 minute chicken scratch songs made by a highschool band in Texas in the seventies. This is the sound you will encounter monthly in this alleyway, not the factory gloop of ‘funky house’ or the factory written indie pop that frowning bar owners insist ‘The Girls’ want. Give 'The Girls' a bit more credit, particularly when a weeks work may involve being trapped beside a yammering radio spewing the aforementioned programmed noise. All ages can get down to what was actually the original bar music in 60s and 70s America. A2 even throws in the odd disco 7 and has been known to sneak in a Saturday night fever track or two which unites the Aubar girls and the music geeks.
Its addictive stuff. Supplies of these records are regularly shipped into Limerick and the Pablo Escobar of this scene in Ireland is Allcitys OB. Tonight the Funktion boys have DJ OB, the ultimate collector and salesman behind the decks to showcase his latest finds from the dusty record boxes of L.A. Narrowed geek eyes follow his every move as sirens fill the air, it’s a chase song from some Blaksplotation film, original Pressure! Another baddass slice follows, almost jamming a colt 45 under your chin asking you to renounce your fondness for the Beastie Boys sabotage video and aurally check the real deal.
And so it goes on, grooving shouting Limerick people, speakers being tested to the limit until its time to move on, hyped up for more conventional venues where different sound providers will offer a contrast to tonights Funkin Lesson.
(whose membership in the funk geek club is regularly questioned)