Best Of South Florida® 2006 Winners
Arts & Entertainment
Gordon McConnell was almost a one-man show of subtle exploration into the fleeting nature of fame in Mosaic Theatre's Match. As Tobi, the aging former Balanchine dancer and Julliard choreographer haunting a sad and lonely apartment at the northern edge of Manhattan, McConnell was quietly magnificent as the solitary egotist who kept his toenail clippings in a jar and desperately longed for the touch of another human being. Even when a duplicitous married couple came to his cloister to interrogate him about the past, it was clear that McConnell's Tobi had full control of the room. He was gregarious, menacing, authoritative, giving, pansexual, seductive, and lecherous, all at the same time. Remember the cloyingly gay character played by George Carlin (who otherwise has always been fabulous) in The Prince of Tides? Well, McConnell was exactly the opposite.
When you're a busy chef/restaurateur and a father of four, the swingin' nightlife is pretty much limited to sticking your nose in a saucepan. Extracurricular entertainment or museum browsing? That's pretty much limited to a few stolen hours with the kids on an off-day afternoon. Kevin McCarthy, proprietor of KM at the Grapevine in Plantation, stumbled into the IGFA Fishing Hall of Fame in Dania Beach one day with his kids -- all of them under 12 -- and discovered a serendipitously harmonious environment. "All of our relatives are big fishermen, and the kids related the place to going out to a pond with their uncles and cousins," says McCarthy, known for his dazzlingly original, Southwest-influenced entrées and desserts. The family has been back numerous times since. The place is a symphony of anglerphilia (love of fishing), with mounts of world-record sport fish floating overhead in eye-popping formation, touchscreen displays of the exploits of famed fishermen (like Ernest Hemingway and Zane Grey), and fishing-related games and toys. There's the outdoor Wetlands Walk, meticulously constructed wilderness environments, and, the McCarthy kids' favorite, the Catch Gallery. Here's where "fishing simulators" give you a sense of what it's like to catch a marlin or a sailfish. "The kids flip out every time we go by the building now," McCarthy says.
We will not use this space to lament the loss of Awesome New Republic to the lure of the Big Apple and that distraction from music-making called "a normal life." (OK, just this space: Come back! Please, we need you! Like the Heat needs Shaq!) But there's no doubt about it: There hasn't been anything as original as ANR's jazzo-pop electrofunk soul-boogie that's come out of the South Florida music scene since, well, maybe ever. The band went through several iterations before rouletting into the two-man, drums-n-keys format found on its full-length debut, ANR So Far. And two is definitely better than one or five or seven or even 69 in this case. Find a song more hilarious and on-point than "Kill South Beach Dead" or effortlessly hummable than "Wheels, No Engine" -- made by anyone, let alone a pair of young UM virtuosi -- and, um, I guess you'll have another entry into this Best Of category. Our money says there's nobody out there anywhere that's doing smart, funny freak-pop better than these two. Yeah, it's sad to see them go, but at least we have ANR So Far to remember them by.
A seriously tough call had to be made in this category this year, as South Florida underground hip-hop took some major strides toward a consistent, quality sound. Neck and neck at the front of the pack were Lauderdale's verbal acrobat Butta Verses and Hollywood freestyle general Wrekonize. Both MCs are definite crowd-pleasers, confident and aggressive on stage yet flaunting a wicked and often self-deprecating sense of humor. Both have climbed their way through the local scene, gaining national attention but continuing to respect their subtropical roots. And both have taken that personal experience -- Butta's kinship with De La Soul and the Native Tongues clan; Wrek's dominance of MTV's 2004 freestyle battle -- and churned out track after track of streetwise insight into life just short of the big leagues. Stylistically, the two counter each other beautifully: Where Butta's unpredictable, hopscotchy flow is risky and often thrilling, Wrekonize stays perfectly on-point, smoothing out the beat like a warm iron over a silk shirt. So what gives Wrekonize the edge? It's his spectacular Waiting Room mixtape, a supertight showcase of every reason why this 22-year-old is major-label material. It's the best local hip-hop release of the year, and that makes Wrek our hip-hop artist of the year.
So the Galapagos of the music world (i.e., the bottom three counties of Florida, gentle readers) produces a band that combines ridiculously heavy guitar riffage by way of Maiden, AC/DC, and Black Flag with the number-one soul/metal drummer in the area and tops it off with gang-warfare-style live shows. Good God, yes! Tim Moffatt, Tyson Griffin, Chris Maggio, and Russ Saunders go on a few tours and, after a few years of nearly constant gigging and even more constant drinking, promptly implode, never having produced a proper release. Oh Lord, no. Welcome to the South Florida music scene, Charles Darwin. We eat our young.
Best Cultural Turnaround
Gumwrappers Bikini Dance Club
In 2004, there wasn't a band in town that thought it would ever perform at a bikini bar called Gumwrappers. But in 2006, many of those bands have already played there... and continue to do so on a near regular basis. These aren't testosterone-fueled, cock-rock bands we're talking about. Nope. Gumwrappers regulars include female-backed groups like Friendly Fire and makeup-clad goth rockers like Death Becomes You -- not the kind of people who hang around frat parties. However, what's most surprising is that the whole thing took off the way it did. When Gumwrappers held its first live music night in January 2005 (featuring Southern Flaw and Trapped by Mormons), the odds were stacked against it lasting more than a few months; the idea of babes and bands seemed like a novelty that would soon lose its charm. Now, the shows are such a fixture, the bikini show is held only when the bands aren't playing. And thanks to the tireless efforts of Cherry Sonic Promotions, the local rock scene has found a new home.
The joint is more than 50 years old -- virtually pre-Columbian by Broward standards -- and landmark enough that when the New York Times wrote a national story about the success of Fahrenheit 9/11, it included a large photo of the half-block queue beneath that marvelous marquee. How to stay prominent and relevant for five decades in this land of perpetual flux? Keeping the fare fresh, for starters, and participating in the Miami Gay and Lesbian Film Festival and the Fort Lauderdale International Film Festival. It also provides a friendly staff, a location within piggy-backing distance of post-film beers, coffee, and sushi, a lobby bulletin board where viewers praise or flay just-seen movies (such a human touch), and the so-called "World's Greatest Popcorn" (which it must be, for who would claim such otherwise?). The capper for Gateway is its woolly lineup, a blend of big-budget blowouts beside brilliant blips: The Aristocrats, Gay Sex in the '70s, Transamerica, The Corporation, Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room, The Station Agent, etc. Chances are, any recent movie you actually mulled after its final credits you had to go to Miami Beach or the Gateway to view.
Best Free Movies
Friday Night Flicks at Old School Square
So you're hoping to catch an early movie before the usual Friday night club-hopping -- it's like the calm before the storm. But then you remember how much a buzzkill movie theaters can be, what with the crowded quarters, Pepsi-encrusted floors, and high-priced tickets. Ah, but there is a place where films are shown under the open sky, where you can bring your own grime-free chair, and the box office is nonexistent. It's Friday Night Flicks at Old School Square, the monthly freebie for filmgoers who want some fresh air and free cinema. Of course, you don't have to supply your own seating; two-dollar chair rentals are available before the show, as are popcorn, soda, and candy -- just like at the theater. The difference is, your shoes won't get stuck to the ground halfway through the film. From April to August, films begin at 8:30 p.m.; from September to March, it's an hour earlier. Some of this year's flicks include Top Gun, Blues Brothers 2000, and Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith, but without the long lines and grown men and women dressed in Jedi gear.
Nine times out of ten, battle-of-the-bands competitions don't mean dick. If the judges aren't clueless industry hacks or buddies with one of the bands, the categories seem straight out of a high school talent show. (Audience participation? What, should they play "Kum Ba Yah"?) But when the Freakin' Hott won the National Production Group's "Champions of Rock" contest last April, it was because of one thing and one thing only -- the Freakin' Hott freakin' rocks. And it does so with the barest of bare-bones structures -- two vocalists, one guitar, and a drum kit. There's no rack of space-age effects... not even a bass guitar. (OK, so there is a keyboard on the band's latest recordings, but it's not synth.) What the band does have, however, are incredibly catchy songs (think '60s-styled pop), loose and loud guitar riffs (think '70s-style glam-rock), and an ability to fuse the two into a sound all its own. It's the kind of music that makes you want to hum along and play air guitar.
Best Female Rock Vocalist
Jolie Lindholm of Popvert
When Marthin Chan and Jose Tillan formed Popvert in 2002, they knew that finding the right vocalist for their meticulous melodies could be a make-or-break decision. That's why choosing former Rocking Horse Winner vocalist Jolie Lindholm was a no-brainer. More than just a pretty face who can carry a tune (and who previously carried backup tunes for Dashboard Confessional), Lindholm not only hits the right notes; she hits them in all the right ways, balancing her roles as the group's lead instrument and its personality. It's a precarious task, but Lindholm has it down to a science, seamlessly alternating moods between dreamy and somber, effervescent and bold, all the while adding a human touch to the synth-driven orchestrations. Popvert might have left its fans hungry after releasing its brief, four-song EP in 2004 (Drive Thru Happiness). But 2006 sees the group back in the studio, this time for a full-length album. It'll be well worth the wait.
Whether Brendan Grubb is dishing out eclectic, experimental IDM as the Wicked Dream Foundation, spinning a set of avant-garde electronica as DJ iregrettoinformyouyouhavetwomonthstolive, or buying your used Interpol albums at CD Warehouse in Pembroke Pines, the guy does his stuff with style. Wicked Dream Foundation has been going strong for the past two years, releasing two EPs and a full-length in 2005 on Grubb's own Junque imprint. Live or on tape, a typical WDF set unfolds like a laptop-manipulated soundscape, weaving together minimalist acoustic-electric guitar, danceable beats, voice demolition, thumb piano, barely there experimentalism, and anything else he can fit in, though sometimes the Hollywood-based Grubb is known to treat audiences to an all-analog set if the mood is right. Thanks to his ceaseless work ethic, Grubb's music has risen to the top of two counties. Wicked dreams indeed.
On an average night at Churchill's Pub in Miami, there are anywhere from six to 16 bands playing on the indoor and outdoor stages. For most groups, that potential to divide crowds can put a damper on their performance. But for the carefree, life-of-the-party characters in the Fabulous ShuttleLOUNGE, the solution is simple: set up wherever the people are, stage or no stage. Fronted by the Amazing Dik Shuttle (yes, the guy who looks like the Big Lebowski), ShuttleLOUNGE couldn't care less about vocal monitors or drum risers. The LOUNGE knows that wherever it plays, the people will come. And the people will love it. Why? For starters, these cats are real musicians, cleverly reworking the most unlikely tunes as lounge numbers. Ever wondered what Modest Mouse would sound like in Vegas? No? Well, that's just too bad, because sooner or later, this shuttle's coming to your local lounge. And you'll never view rock 'n' roll the same way again.
Quick, name the first three things that come to mind when you think of thrash metal. If your answers include animal sacrifice, Norse gods, and necrophilia, that's understandable. It's not like anyone listens to Slayer for its anti-war tunes. Well, maybe the guys in Red State Riot do. Sure, the trio is influenced by the usual denizens of dark metal, but that's more of a musical preference than a lyrical one. When it comes to topical fodder, the only Satan that vocalist Pete Gross sings about is the one in the White House. You can chalk that up to Gross' punk influences, like the Dead Kennedys and the Subhumans. In "Bring Down the Borders," Gross sings, "Republicans want war/defense contractor whores/Crash down the White House doors." So forget about devil's horns and goat heads. Red State Riot is after the real evil.
Best Solo Art Exhibition
"The Many Faces of Balcomb Greene: Abstractionist Against the Tide"
While it's gratifying to see South Florida arts institutions snagging big names -- Joan Mir— and Louise Nevelson at the Art and Culture Center of Hollywood, James McNeill Whistler and Andrew Wyeth at the Boca Raton Museum of Art, Robert Rauschenberg at the Miami Art Museum -- it's equally exciting when a museum resurrects an artist many people have never heard of and many others have long forgotten. The Boca Museum is especially good at supplementing its flashier exhibitions with smaller shows that often pack an even greater punch. That's what happened when the museum paired its big but slightly bland "Seeing People: Paintings from the National Academy Museum" with "The Many Faces of Balcomb Greene: Abstractionist Against the Tide," which cast welcome light on an American artist whose career spanned the 20th Century but whose work has been sadly overlooked since his heyday in the 1940s, '50s, and early '60s.
Poet T.S. Eliot was wrong when he declared, "April is the cruelest month." In the South Florida art world last year, March was by far the cruelest month, because it marked the final days of the Palm Beach Institute of Contemporary Art, whose financial well ran dry after five years. And as far as PBICA was concerned, Eliot was equally wrong when he speculated that the world would end "not with a bang but a whimper." The museum went out with a big bang with its final exhibition, "I Feel Mysterious Today," a group show with an enigmatic title that summed up everything that was wonderful about the ill-fated contemporary art center.
Matt Carone has been a fixture on the South Florida art scene for so long that it's easy to take him for granted. The New Jersey native opened his famous, influential gallery on Las Olas Boulevard in Fort Lauderdale in 1959, and in the following decades, he built a roster that included such artists as Wolf Kahn, Leon Kroll, Wifredo Lam, and, of course, the great Chilean surrealist Roberto Matta. Meanwhile, Carone quietly continued his own work as a painter, urged on by Matta on his many visits to the area. And when the 41-year-old Hortt Memorial Competition was on the verge of going under a couple of years ago, Carone made his gallery available to the Broward Art Guild as one of the venues for the beleaguered exhibition. Last year, the artist sold his 10,000-square-foot space, which is now home to the Las Olas Art Center. But best of all, the 75-year-old Carone continues to paint, and if a recent one-man show at Lurie Fine Art Galleries in Boca Raton's Gallery Center is any indication, he's at the height of his creative powers.
While it's doubtful that Broward and Palm Beach counties will ever seriously challenge Miami-Dade's art-gallery dominance, things are not nearly as dire as some skeptics claim. Yes, galleries come and go more often than they should. But there are also galleries that stay the course. One such veteran is New River Fine Art in the heart of the Las Olas business district in downtown Fort Lauderdale. New River has been around long enough to see the continuing transformation of the Las Olas neighborhood, but through it all, the gallery continues what it does best: providing a stimulating mix of old and new. New River embraces such contemporary talents as Luc Leestemaker, Karen Stene, and Pascal Chova, but it has also amassed an excellent track record when it comes to such big names as Picasso, Mir—, Chagall, and the Pissarro family. And last year, the gallery "rediscovered" Dali just before the art world as a whole began reassessing the still-controversial Spanish surrealist.
One of last year's most dramatic reaffirmations of the idea that less is more came in the form of "Reduced," a sort of nouveau minimalist exhibition at the Art and Culture Center of Hollywood. With just a dozen works by only four artists, the show tweaked classic minimalism and conceptual art to come up with its own cheeky version of post-minimalism. Francis Trombly played optical tricks by creating objects made of substances other than what they seemed; Frank Wick explored some subtle if extreme possibilities of mixed media; and Tom Scicluna made oblique jokes about the center's former life as a funeral home. This small package of an exhibition was neatly tied up by the 1971 video I Am Making Art, a deadpan classic in which John Baldessari handily reduces everything to a statement of aesthetics.
One of the best things about Claire Tyler's work in the past year, whether in The Pull of Negative Gravity and Match (both at Mosaic Theatre) or Educating Rita at Palm Beach Dramaworks, has been her expressively malleable face. Regardless of the play, Tyler throws her entire body into her game, a style that finally paid off with her role as the low-class Liverpudlian hairdresser yearning to join the high-brow literary establishment. If you want to know how difficult the role of Rita is, pick up a copy of the play and read through the nonstop banter as you follow Rita's evolution. Tyler fully lived up to the demands of Rita, both the sad yearning for education and the finally confident assumption of her place in life as brainy literature scholar. Tyler, clearly showing her stuff, gave you no choice but to love Rita no matter where she was in her evolution.
Best Director
Nanique Gheridian, Palm Beach Dramaworks
If you were to graph out geography versus number of theaters in South Florida, with north-south location on the y axis and numbers on the x axis, you'd get a pyramid. Miami's southern theaters form a wide base, Broward's occupy the narrower midsection, and Palm Beach Dramaworks sits pretty much alone at the graph's northern point. Regardless of its lonely place in WPB, though, PBD consistently offers a moving world inside 322 Banyan Blvd. that balances out the smarminess of Clematis a block away. Pulling off those productions has a lot to do with director Nanique Gheridian. In a period of just a few months this year, "Nanique of the North" wheeled out Hand of God and Educating Rita -- something new and something old. Both plays, with her nurtured stable of well-chosen actors, offered different worlds of deep contemplation that Gheridian seems to know, at heart, is a primary reason for going to the theater in the first place.
Michael McKeever is probably the South Florida theater community's MVP this year. He writes plays. He acts in plays. He designs sets. Oh, and the playbills you use to fan yourself? It's very likely he designed their covers. Hand of God, McKeever's new play about Catholic priests could, in theory, make you wince from the possibility of bringing out the clergy's dark secrets. But the play is really about introspection and the miracle of kindness in daily human interaction, which makes Hand of God almost feel warmly out of time, the same way that gentle chess-playing priests bantering in a sunlit rectory also seem to be from another time. This sense of slowing down, of deliberate thought, and of welcoming the unexpected in life, binds the play together. If you were from someplace frigid, like New England (or, for that matter, Palm Beach County), you could say that Hand of God feels like the first warm day of spring, when you can sit in the sun on the grass and talk with your friends after a long, cold winter inside.
Best Supporting Actor
Shared by Terrell Hardcastle and Tom Kenaston for Sisters of Swing
Best Supporting Actress
Niki Fridh for And Then She Moved the Furniture
Who decides the line between lead actress and supporting actress? For some, Niki Fridh's star turn as an abused Army wife in And Then She Moved the Furniture could very well be considered a leading role. But the leading role in this graphic new play at the Public Theatre was not one of the actors but the spirit of violence and malevolence that filled the air. In the play, as her sniper husband evolved into a war-filled killer, both on the battlefield and at home, Fridh brilliantly responded to that evolution with real and moving expression of her growing fear and entrapment. It was a performance that made you want to see much, much more of Fridh in the future.
Best Theater for Drama
The Public Theatre of South Florida
The Public Theatre sometimes seems more like a concept than a theater. Give it a room with rows of collapsible chairs and the Public Theatre will provide an evening of searching the darkest corners of American society that always keeps its audience on the edge of its seat. In the past year, Public Theatre's artistic director and father confessor, David Jay Bernstein, focused on the politics of disease and sexual identity (The Normal Heart), ethnic conflict and urban youth disenfranchisement (Barefoot Boy With Shoes On), and domestic abuse and the insanity of war (And Then She Moved the Furniture). Public Theatre does more with less than any company around, fully knowing that elaborate sets and fancy playbills have less to do with the theater of social conflict than do sharp plays with superior casts that include some of the most talented actors in South Florida, both well-known and up-and-coming.
Best Design Team
Palm Beach Dramaworks for That Championship Season
One of the best parts of the Palm Beach Dramaworks experience is the anticipation, like a kid on Christmas morning, of the moment you enter the theater to find out just what it's come up with next for its stage design. The stage is almost as big as the audience space, which means that whatever the troupe does, you're right on top of it. Last year, during an intermission for Lips Together, Teeth Apart, with its Fire Island beach house deck, one excited theatergoer walked right up to wander around and then read a prop copy of the New York Times sitting on a patio table. When scenic designer Michael Amico and his construction crew of Andre Lancaster, Michael Schmidt, and Manny Tepper built a full-scale Victorian parlor to pull off the creepy world of That Championship Season, you could only say "Wow!" as you became fully immersed in the play's 1970s world in which four lost-boy former basketball heroes reunited with the coach who would always manipulate them.
Best Production
Exits and Entrances at Florida Stage
Best Ensemble
Deanna Henson, Kathy Ryan, Tania Tesh, and Jennifer Gomez in Bold Girls
The Women's Theatre Project is all about ensemble acting, and it seems that a key criterion for their choice of plays is that they include groups of women inwardly focused, clarifying the differences and similarities of those in the genetically XX community. Even as the company's regular ensemble productions routinely succeed, like last fall's If We Are Women, the girls of Bold Girls offered extra synergy. The Northern Ireland of the early 1990s was a dangerous place, where the husbands of characters played by Deanna Henson, Kathy Ryan, and Tania Tesh were either dead or in jail, which meant these women had to stick together even more. Jennifer Gomez, as a mysterious interloper into the trio's stronghold, further exemplified the rich companionship of the others. Just like on Sesame Street, one of these four people didn't belong, and with Gomez smartly the outsider, the overall result was that the union of Henson, Ryan, and Tesh was even more strongly clarified.
Someone get this place a sense of humor before it's too late. Buzzi, executive director of the Broward Art Guild, was already broiling under hot spotlights over "Controversy," a show that featured images of Pope Benedict adorned with swastikas and George W. Bush getting butt-fucked over an oil barrel by an angry Muslim. Then, just as the brouhaha was brewing at a full-tilt boogie, she appeared on Comedy Central's flagship late-night comedy program The Daily Show With Jon Stewart, playing right into the straight-man stylings of faux reporter Ed Helms. The segment, which aired in mid-July, was so memorable and funny and brought the guild so much free publicity that the only thing to do, of course, was to thank Buzzi by handing her her walking papers. With the art community on life support and culture a rare commodity, Buzzi -- whose decade-plus commitment to the local scene naturally came with ups and downs -- was stunned by her sudden axing, which happened following a secret board meeting. "I think I'm going to pass out," she told reporters, her moment of Zen flashing before our eyes. In a town that thinks a Princess Diana exhibit is cutting-edge, Buzzi's unique and risky vision will be missed.
Best Museum
The Morikami Museum and Japanese Gardens
Now that Edward Said is dead and buried, we can go back to enjoying good, old-fashioned Orientalism again. Because who doesn't love sushi, rock gardens, and the occasional geisha? The Morikami Museum serves all these up in dainty abundance on its 200 acres in Delray Beach that's dedicated to South Florida's unlikely but enduring obsession with Japanese culture. Opened in 1977 to celebrate the heritage of a small colony of Japanese immigrants imported at the turn of the century to grow pineapples, the Morikami now boasts several museum buildings, a 5,000-piece collection of historical objects, a tea ceremony gallery, and a series of gardens that reflect Japan's history. No other area museum comes close to offering its total immersion experience, where you are lulled into a delicious food coma by the museum café's fantastic bento box meal while pondering the sight of coifed Boca Raton den mothers traipsing through the manicured grounds shaded by Japanese paper umbrellas. Hiroshima? The rape of Nanking? Please, leave your historical downers at the door and enjoy the Morikami's gentle survey of the high points of ancient Japanese history, take in the tea ceremony, and buy a paper lantern on the way out -- because wallowing in the sanitized aspects of another culture is a mighty fine way to spend a sunny afternoon.
This place is proof that, every now and then, Fort Lauderdale can look and act like a real city. It's not a standup club, full of aspiring comedians. It's a real-live troupe, full of creative men and women who create hilarious cultural and political musical satire. Some of the material is local, like the bits on I-95 driving and hurricanes; some of it is national, like the Bush bits; and some of it is flat-out universal, like the smoking and cosmetic surgery pieces. Be prepared to drop some cash while you're there: Dinner and seating alone runs you $50 on Friday or Saturday nights (it's five bucks cheaper on Wednesday and Thursday). With drinks, tips, and dessert, expect to drop at least $90. Don't worry, though, it's more than worth it, and it's one classy date. The food is delicious (some of the best sea bass you're likely to find, for example) and the service is, well, extraordinary. Be prepared to tip your servers well. They're going to surprise -- and entertain -- the hell out of you.
Hey, Biff, remember those AV club kids you used to pick on in high school? Guess who they hung out with last week? Oh, no one important, just your favorite new band, the All-American Rejects. Don't get jealous -- it's all in a day's work for the budding rock journos at Swept Away TV. Run entirely by college and high school students and based in Boca Raton, Swept Away TV is proof that being a music fan doesn't lead to a life of burger-flipping. Shown in more than 60 markets nationwide (and on the Internet), the program features young broadcasters chatting it up with today's hottest bands -- the Fray, Our Lady Peace, Maroon 5, Jimmy Eat World, and All-American Rejects, of course. The program gets touring bands some local press, and it offers viewers a chance to see the interviews on TV. But most important, Swept Away is a mechanism for young music fans to become producers instead of consumers. Sorry, Biff, but your cool-guy shtick doesn't work in the real world. Now how about a refill on that Coke?
Um, hello? Roller skates, booty jams, and Queer Night? Sounds like a recipe for Studio 54 on wheels. While other Broward dance clubs shill unsuspecting partyers into pale imitations of the bottom county's superclubs and indie promoters continue to recruit teenaged alcoholic fashion victims for their dance nights at dive bars, the Gold Coast Skate Rink does what it's been doing for the past three decades: provide hot-ass dance jams to fun-loving skaters. The rink has always attracted soul, R&B, and hip-hop fans and the long-running, pink-friendly Tuesday night has now beefed up its DJ roster with local cut-killers Hott Pants and Lolo on the decks. Like their audience, they're the kind of cut-loose party people who realize that besides getting wasted and hooking up with relative strangers, a dance club is for, you know, dancing. Give yourself a break and just do the Hokey Pokey. After all, that's what it's all about.
Best Venue for Live Music
Pompano Beach Amphitheatre
Man, this is an easy one. Any venue that can host upward of 80 bands in a single day is pretty much capable of anything. If there's a live music event that the Pompano Beach Amphitheatre can't handle, that's news to the thousands of people who turn out for its colossal concerts. The biggest of its 2005 events, the 80-plus-band Warped Tour, tested the capacity limits of the amphitheater and its surrounding grounds... and it passed muster (if a bit of mud toward the end). So then it hosted the much smaller (but still significant) events like the Taste of Chaos Tour (also full of punk and emo bands), the Latium Entertainment Tour (featuring Latino sensations Frankie J and Baby Bash), and the Rock Never Stops Tour (with '80s metal bands Cinderella, Quiet Riot, and Firehouse). Wait, we're not done here. Last April saw the pairing of Todd Rundgren and Joe Jackson, a double whammy of oldies but still-rockin' goodies. And when Ashlee Simpson performed here, she used her own voice (zing!). So what does 2006 bring? More of the same, of course. There's always something big TBA at PBA.
No question. Langerado was a culmination of all the assets that South Florida can offer the rest of the world: gorgeous weather. A lush outdoor venue. Colorful, locally produced ambiance. Beautiful, barefoot women. Together, all of those elements emitted enough gravity to attract a musical lineup that easily trumped SunFest, Ultra, or Global Gathering. Between Wayne Coyne's space ball, Kid Koala's turntable magic, the dark ambiance of Secret Machines, and the Meters' vintage funk, the variety of sounds was astounding. Add in a Florida Native stage that proved our state's mighty contribution to the world of live music and you have an event that's both reflective of our local community and truly world-class. Major props go to Ethan Schwartz, Mark Brown, and the whole Langerado crew. Thanks for the vision and the guts to stick with a risky project. Now that Langerado has put us on the nation's musical map, let's do all we can to keep it there.
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