White T's and White Belts

DIY djs for the dirty pink panties set

by Kelly White

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Published: Oct 17, 2007

Michael T. Regan

There's a booty over here and a belly over there, and if your hands ain't up, they're on another person. One of the most notorious photos from monthly DJ night White T's and White Belts shows a pair of dirty pink panties amid a pile of empty beer cans. Encouraging enough, but there's more to the three-year-old First Friday rager than that.

Fresh off Pop Montreal, WTWB heads to Philly for the Strawberry Mansion party at Silk City. You'd think they'd be tired. They go from regular names and day jobs to setting the turntables for guest-friends like Peedi Crakk and Low Budget.

A typical melodical feast will feature everything from gangsta rap to dancehall. Oh, and you can't forget the classics. "Philly is a city where the classic tracks are big rather than the new stuff over in Europe," says Dan the Swede, "but we try to incorporate a lot of the new music, as well."

Based in Brewerytown and Fishtown, it was only a crossing of party paths in the tight-knit disc jockey underworld that would lead to the meeting of Dan, Emynd and Bo Bliz. As many stories start out, one night at Silk City, while kicking it with a pre-Spank Rock Naeem Juwan, they decided to do their own thing. This meant that Emynd would spin rap (White T's) and Dan would honor indie rock (White Belts). The first WTWB was held at Ruba, where their pal Bo Bliz worked the door. It wasn't long before Bo wanted in, bringing his reggae and hip-hop tastes to their already diverse mix. Though hard to earn cred and then maintain your edge in a city that won't buy stock in the latest bullshit, WTWB have managed to stay in the favor of a fickle, tough-loving crowd.

Some swear that White T's switches up the GPS-tripping locations on the regular to keep it edgy and undiscovered. Wrong. What started out at Ruba was upgraded to bigger, yet still obscure or under-used locales — Ulana's, the Red Warehouse, a brief stint at the Ukranian Club. It was always because of size or security issues. After the party exploded, they took it to a relatively young venue, the Arts Garage, which has added new lighting, air conditioning and other amenities.

"The Arts Garage was cheap and still for-the-people, it wasn't some bougie club. It was our type of crowd," explains Emynd. "The party is on our own terms, everything from the music that we play to the drink selection — it's all ours. There's no club manager saying hey, don't play so much rap. We do us and people appreciate it. We speak collectively for a lot of people who want to hear this kind of stuff."

"The way music is shared through blogs creates overnight sensations, people who make a couple of tracks in their bedrooms, and then everyone in Europe, NYC and L.A. are suddenly concerned with these people, when they really haven't done anything to earn their place," Bo says. "It's artificial to me. People who hardly DJ are getting a reputation because of the Internet."

"It just feels good that we put a ton of work into it," Emynd finishes.

But it's not all hustle and no sway for this crew. Take that dirty panty picture, for example. Word is that two consenting adults had a moment in the bathroom, and one of them proceeded to fling the unmentionables around his head on the dancefloor. This is Philadelphia, where our It Girls actually wear underwear, and a white T-shirt and a white belt is about more than style. It's about a city that parties hard and fast without faking it. As opposed to simply photo-blogging it.

"It's like, what is this all for, why do you go out at night?" Bo agrees. "To take pictures of a DJ? Are you having fun? Really?"

"I'd be on a train and mention that I'm a DJ and people would be like, 'Oh, have you heard of Misshapes?'" Dan laughs.

"Not to hate on Misshapes," insists Emynd. "But that shit would not fly in Philly."

(k_white@citypaper.net)

 

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