The birth of legends

TITLE: THE BIRTH OF LEGENDS

REFLECTION ON THE (((SOUL))) OF THE STEREO AFTERHOURS – LONG TEXT

SUBJECT: A philosophico-whatever observation on the birth of the legends of the night…

DATE: Event of NOV 10, 2019 at Stereo Afterhours in Montréal.
READING TIME: 7-10 min

SUGGESTION: If you don’t belong to the world of the night, of music or of dance, you’ll find no interest in this. So move on to another post. Otherwise, well, that’s how it is.

RELEVANCE: It depends from what angle you like dance, stories of the night, STEREO MONTREAL, the SOUL of the dance floor in general. There is no opinion of any interest in this text, only perception torn from the senses and put into words to extract the essence.

IMPORTANCE: None, it is only playful, anecdotal, about one very precise event, and it speaks to an ultra-targeted tribe of lovers of Underground life, who will recognize themselves. Or not.

FACT CHECK: Nothing says the content of this piece is real. But based on the creative principle that “the more personal it is, the more universal it is”, this little testimony may perhaps also give you a feeling of déjà vu…

Here is a story, lived during a magnificent night of Stereo XX: Chus & Ceballos (All Night Long), full of smiles and energy beyond belief.

The elders gathered, the tribes came together, the newcomers in the place are ecstatic, time has been erased, we are now in a moment without limit…

“They say he once played two hours for 5 people…” whispers Suzie, a new coat-check staffer, when it’s probably already past 4 pm…

Poor thing, she is completely exhausted, and at the end of each track she regains hope that her shift of over twenty hours will finally be over, that she can empty the coats and go take care of her dog.

But no, false hope.

For her.

I count the customers, 1-2-3…21! Wow! And it’s been about stable for two hours already. I do believe we’ll beat the two hours for five people quite easily.

We are broken and physically exhausted, that’s for sure, but also in a kind of “War of Endurance”, even if most don’t realize it… That is: “Who will give up first?” So you can’t let go.

Indeed, sometimes there is this kind of “fight” to know WHO, between the DJ and the dancers, will have to give up at the end of their strength, in total exhaustion…

OK then, let’s explain a little…

Imagine that normally, the club closes between 9 am and noon at the latest. It is extremely rare to go beyond that, and that’s already a long session from 2 am to 12 pm.

Pablo’s partner, Chus Esteban, left an eternity ago, a little before noon, at the end of an incredible and more than satisfying night, but since then Pablo Ceballos is alone at the controls, having a crazy good time, to the great delight of the survivors who decide to follow the DJ and close the place, without knowing when that will be.

A big part of the night people have left and we’re in “Bonus-Time”, everyone knows it and hopes it will last, with no way of knowing when the DJ will have had enough. He decides, we support him.

He’s playing for the little family, he’s having fun, so are we, he’s in cahoots with the crowd and owns us completely, teasing and playful, and he throws incredible stuff at us! Stuff never heard before, and he makes us believe it’s the last track, so every time, for hours now, we give everything, telling ourselves “Come ooon! This is the last one!!” And it’s insane.

So despite the sore knees, the seized muscles, the thirst, we push the machine, telling ourselves over and over that it’s finished after THIS tune.

My God! He got us so good…

Usually, a “War of Endurance” lasts 2-3 hours max, and usually the DJ gives up, exhausted, or he has a plane to catch, or his contract is up, even if the dancers would take more. That’s it.

Not this time.

The DJ pushes. And he loves it, and it shows.

And we, the dancers, we adore it!

No one could say how it happened, but the ingredients appeared for time to vanish, and so that despite the endless finales and the imminent closing, the DJ still found the strength to keep going and let us dance on and on.

The exclusive relationship created in this kind of moment comes from not knowing UNTIL WHEN it will last. And since each moment is the last, it becomes magical, and I would say one of the incredible moments that will surely stay in our memories is when Pablo stops the music, the lights come on, he thanks the people and says “Happy twenty years Stereo”

And everyone starts singing “Happy Birthday Stereo!” Incredible!

My friend and I hold each other by the shoulders, and we all probably tell ourselves “OK then! We finish singing at the top of our lungs, who cares! It’s over now!”

It’s super beautiful, everyone is singing, under the white lights, with a grand finale “Hapy birthayyy StereeeeOOOOOOOO!” Great bursts of laughter and applause for the DJ. It was a very privileged moment shared by those who were there I think, very family-like even…

BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BLACK OUT!

It was on again. Wow! But for how much longer?

I’d say that from 4:30 pm on, if he had stopped, no one would have complained, but no one gave up, and those who stayed, stayed until the very end, with immense determination, knowing they were living something incredible, despite the fatigue.

This is how legends are written into history, from unique moments that appear only in certain very rare and exceptional circumstances, that require conditions gathered in a certain order, along with a hint of intervention from the Universe that could never have been planned…

Suddenly, you tip into magic, and the timeline no longer exists.

There is only here and now, forever.

This is the magic we had the immense privilege of receiving when, to recharge and re-energize all the dancers, several times Pablo came down to the floor, danced with us, and offered hugs full of love to EACH of the dancers there.

Then he would go back up and play again. And again.

He thus offered an immense and unique gift to all those present, who received this emotion and shared the (((SPIRIT))), to be part of it forever.

This eternal spirit, like the memory of two beloved friends who embodied this (((SPIRIT))) like no one else, two people who marked the walls of the place and who still dance with us every time we evoke them: our friend Gian Gleason, an international dancer who connected Montréal to the hottest party on the planet, elrow in Ibiza, who died dramatically this summer. And the great love of my life Junior Hernandez (gone four years ago on Nov 23, 2015), of whom old friends speak to me EVERY time CHUS+CEBALLOS are at Stereo. For me, thanks to them, Junior is still alive through their music, and Gian too. For real. And we make them dance with us.

It is through the magic of music, through the titles we loved and grooved to together years ago, that the emotions come back to us when a track bursts out in the middle of the night.

Nowhere but in movement can we reconnect through music with those we have loved, and so it is a privilege to reach the memory of the heart by forgetting time through dance. Those who have lost a loved one will understand…

In the end, the DJ won the match by over three hours, easily, cutting the sound around 7 pm…

But actually, if he stopped, it’s because eventually the staff gently asked each dancer to leave, since the DJ didn’t seem to want to stop! lol

Don’t worry, they were very kind and full of courtesy, and everyone understood them, I think. I admit I myself was quite happy to be able to leave without feeling I was giving up. The staff were like parents, watching over us, and did it with kindness, gentleness and class, making it easy. With a Suzie at the coat check more than happy to release the last coats, definitely! Nice work StereoStaff!

And before concluding, I wanted to share something that came to mind during the night, on this day of remembrance.

Although there can be no comparison, in combat medals are earned facing adversity, facing the impossible, and heroes are defined by their courage and their determination not to give up…

Having lived hundreds of ((())) nights since 1999, I confirm this was a unique moment, one that demanded a great deal of determination not to falter after more than fifteen hours there.

If the Stereo Dancer medal existed, all the survivors of that night would deserve one for taking part in a fierce battle.

And if the Stereo DJ Cross existed, it would definitely go to Pablo for his exceptional endurance, his extraordinary generosity and his sense of duty toward his dancers.

Pablo Ceballos, already with Chus Esteban among the great historic residents, has surely written one more page in the golden book of the STEREO MONTREAL magic, to be spoken of for a long time.

The next time I see Suzie from the coat check, I’ll ask her: “They say he once played seven hours for barely twenty dancers, did you know?” hehehehe

This is how the legends of the night are born.

(Costa’s own English version was posted separately on Facebook at the time: www.facebook.com/notes/christophe-cote/the-birth-of-legends/10157346470315353)