The lasers, the moving heads, the LED panels, the scanners and the strobes, all switch to a dramatic darkness. Doug DiCarto is about to start his live set, and the whole of Revival is feverishly now ready for it. The crowd are half silent, half jeering and whistling with heart-throbbing anticipation. The intro is enticing, it's a synthesising calm. Then that synth calmness becomes loudly pierced with a booming beat, a booming beat that has us all holding our breaths in the sweaty and hot darkness. Then blinding white strobes reveal Doug DiCarto high on the stage; like a musical king, introducing himself to his greedy crowd just as the intro breaks. That breaking baseline, causes a sea of bodies to throw their arms high in the air and just lose themselves to their king and his hypnotic sound. The ravenous revellers are being taken on a journey. They are dancing through the best kind of musical drops, through the best kind of hooks, through the best kind of breaks. Doug DiCarto is a seducing showman. His plan is to seduce all of the clubbers with the tracks that he plays.
His sounds.
His signature sounds.
The expressive mixes and the experimental beats, will have the crowd eating out of the palm of his DJ hands. He knows how to work the crowd, and the crowd become intuitive to him and his music. The venue is now just a wild sea of sweaty bodies, synchronised to the DiCarto beats; all bouncing around, causing a ripple effect of dancing heads. And I'm one of those dancing heads. I become one with the music. I become one with Doug DiCarto. His music is reaching right into me. I don't care where it takes me, only that it is taking me somewhere. As I jump and dance around to the fusing of beats, and soar with the vocals that take me higher and higher, I want to be part of those fusing beats, I want to become a part of those euphoric vocals. Closing my eyes, the panoramic sounds explode in my ears and drum through my soul. This is me at my happiest. At my freest. With music, I am just me.
Not the thin raver who used to be fat.
Not the singer who is afraid of the stage.
I'm just me.
Frankie Fenner.
A dancer of music and a lover of song.
I just keep on dancing. I dance with Nancy. I dance with those dancing next to me. I just dance. From one explosive track to the next, Doug DiCarto is pulling me into his world. He's pulling me into his musical storm that he's whipping up from behind the decks.
Every tantalising tune causes more of a frenzy. Every vocal loop whips up more of the DiCarto storm. I am a part of that frenzy. I am a part of that storm. I haven't felt this alive for such a long time. And Doug DiCarto is responsible for me feeling so alive—his request, his flirting, his skill, his genius, his arrogance and his compliments—they have all awoken the belief in myself.
"How amazing is he?" Nancy breathlessly shouts over the deafening beats, crazily jumping up and down as she fist pumps the air to each booming beat that we thrillingly hear.
Nancy doesn't need my answer, we both already know that Doug DiCarto is officially amazing. His live set is literally raising the venue roof. His tunes are transcending us all to somewhere so mind-blowingly blissful, it's going to take us quite some time to come down from this musical high.
And why would we even want to?
I know I don't.
The heat.
The vodka.
The tunes.
The dancing.
I don't want any of it to end. Tonight, I just don't want it to end.
**Video above is: LEVELS - AVICII
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aTRACKion
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