- In the words of an audience member from this Club Night Club party: "Yeah! God damn!"
- People make a place. So when this mix of Jon Kraus playing for New York's Club Night Club opens with a roar of "Yeah! God damn!" from someone in the crowd, I can't help but smile as if I was there at the Sugar Hill Disco in Brooklyn. I'd like to think that Kraus provokes outbursts like that because of how he invites dancers in, treating his sets as opportunities to share his vast and varied collection of music that he loves so much. He told RA five years ago that ,since everyone listens to so much music these days, "you can get away with playing some right weirdo shit and no one bats an eyelid." Gleeful reactions throughout Live At Sugar Hill prove that to be something understatement. Kraus doesn't just get away with playing "weirdo shit," he makes it the focal point.
There's a strong sense of space and purpose to the way Kraus DJs, shifting in and out of crowded tracks and allowing even the obscure, almost ambient tracks to stand out. Zohar's "Ot," for instance, drops in just when its sporadic pummeling of kick drums begins, interrupting Sunareht's hectic "Mole Hunt" and creating a tense but open-ended atmosphere. Soon, brushes of a hi-hat—sounding like tiny pistons firing on all cylinders—tease an exit out of this tension. The crowd cries out, but the mood holds until the hi-hats gain some traction, finally colliding with Amen breaks for the wayward rollercoaster of Mortimer Dubaton's "Need for Speed." It's easily one of the most raucous and satisfying moments of the whole set.
Elsewhere Kraus' approach is less elaborate but equally effective. Around the 50-minute mark, a languid synth wanders straight into a wall of oppressive percussion. The vibe shifts from loose and vague to upright and militant in the blink of an eye. Crisp hand drums from Superficie's "Dengue Drums" and twangs of Unknown T's "Homerton" instrumental keep up the momentum while still leaving room for their contrasting sounds to shine through.
It's pairings like this that characterise Live At Sugar Hill. It almost has the flow of an MF DOOM verse: dense with brisk and impactful highs. By comparison, Kraus's Ormside Projects set from December 2021 stewed in the slower tempos of genres like amapiano and gqom for long stretches. Here, in the opening minutes alone, Kraus glides across gqom, Jersey club and ballroom with the ease of an alpine skier through a mogul field.
I've heard Kraus lauded as a DJ's DJ, but Live At Sugar Hill contests this somewhat backhanded compliment. A phrase like "DJ's DJ" suggests only fellow selectors understand or pay him the respect he deserves, that perhaps he wouldn't get the popular vote because the music he plays is too niche. The almost unremitting echo of ecstasy from the crowd throughout this set—as well as the popular tunes that fly out at the end (like Pa Salieu's "Frontline" and Travis Scott's "SICKO MODE") beg to differ. Sure, his radio shows and his official mixes rifle through some odder sections of his collection, but with clever use of space and contrast, Live At Sugar Hill regularly swerves from the expected path, turning even the weirdo shit into bangers. A "people's DJ" seems like a more fitting title, or maybe just a bloody good one.