3 am, Kegs, And A White German Shepherd? Sounds Like A Party……..
This isn't the actual party, but it could be.
Let me begin this post by saying that i’m 30 years old. My “party” going days well behind me, shlepping around a college town in search for a party at 2am is certainly something that’s buried well in my past. You can imagine the surprise when upon leaving the 40 Watt club and Dead Confederate’s AthFest performance, I was a little shocked when the boss, Albie, explained we were still working. Only this time, instead of getting in to shoot a performance, coordinated through band management and venue security, we were apparently going to be shooting a band at a party in town. Only this time, the party is held in secret, in a location only given to those who are invited, and it begins at about 2:30. In the morning.
Somehow, the boss had managed to make contact with an individual in town who coordinates these gatherings, which are completely secretive. They aren’t advertised, and are spread solely through word of mouth, with bands from all over coming to play them. At first, I doubted the legitimacy of this show until I overheard others on the way out of the 40 Watt talking about the show, and whether or not they would be able to find the location. Wow, I thought. I’m 30, and swimming in a sea of twenty-somethings looking for the next stop.
With cameras in hand, we found ourselves in a dark parking lot parked next to a few cars getting our gear ready. I had no idea where we were, we had no idea what we were walking into, aside from the fact that the organizer asked us not to reveal the name of the event, and other than that, we were free to roam as we pleased. As we walked up to the gathering of people, i couldn’t help but flash back to my college days when you walk into a party, and don’t know a soul. There’s no animosity at all, but the desperate attempt to find a familiar face. I’m 30, and all these people were 22-24. At the most. Suddenly, I realized Athens and it’s music really is a different world. These parties/concerts are quite legendary to be honest, with bands coming from all over to play to the truest of the hardcore music fans, who long after the lights of AthFest had dimmed, continued on their relentless pursuit of music. It was about 3am, we were in what appeared to be an abandoned garage, it was June, and there was no air conditioning. So comfort was certainly something we were lacking. As we walked in, I noticed a white german shepherd roamed the party, and like everyone, was looking for the keg. I mean, what party at 3 am, where it’s 100 degrees, doesn’t have a german shepherd roaming freely? If Hunter S. Thompson were still alive, this would have been his kind of hangout. The band finally started playing, and while Albie rolled tape, navigated his way through throngs of sweaty and somewhat smelly party revelers, i realized that yes, I am 30, and no, I cannot stay out this late anymore. But anything I suppose, to get the shots we need. As we moved from spot to spot, watching the band unleash their brand of art house alt-pop on the crowd, I waved the white flag. I was done, and I could go no more. And with a high five to the white german shepherd, and the walk to the car in the dark and abandoned parking lot, we called it a day. And honestly, I was still not sure what I had just experienced. Crazy kids and their music. And dogs.
Drew
Producer
