Oz OZONE Party

On-scene Coverage
Mar 13, 1997

Worshipping At The Electronic Skychurch
By Aimee Spanier

Oz promised you a rave. You got a rave. The spacious main room of the Palace, which just a few hours earlier was filled with business-types deeply involved in industry-talk, is now packed to capacity with young, energetic ravers. Onstage is Electronic Skychurch, a techo outfit that is filling what's left of the space in the room with loud, pulsating music.

Electronic Skychurch's frontwoman, clad in a flowing white sheath, is leading the crowd through the songs with her deep, rich, smooth voice. She sings. She dances. She hums. She jumps. She do-do-yeahs. She twirls. And the audience mimics her, dancing and jumping and twirling and singing right along with her. She's not, apparently, used to such an enthusiastic response. "Stop it guys," she says shyly between songs. "You're going to make me cry." Fazed for just a moment, she leaps right back into the next song without missing a single, thumping beat.

The trio-singer, percussionist and sampler-are creating sound that slips in your ears, charges down your spine and takes control of your limbs, making you spin and leap wantonly. The music comes in short bursts of repetition, seamlessly looped and endlessly infectious. It's the kind of music, says one witness, that "fills your head tonight and clears it in the morning." Exactly. You can't hear. You can't think. You can't do anything but let the music take you where it will.

Copyright ©1997 MediaCast