Cities and “scenes,” like the human beings that (partly) make them up, are mottled, confused things. Houston is, of all the places I’ve lived, worked and played, the most jumbled and the most vibrant. The cultural makeup here is more diverse than any northeastern city, but laid out in striated patterns not dissimilar to its sprawling architectural limbs. (It’s like a thrashing monster with the downtown nexus as its heart.) Given very little other than crappy weather and a flat surface for its nature, nurture here has been given almost free reign. And, like the lack of zoning laws that allow cozy neighborhoods to reside in the shadow of huge apartment blocks, the action in H-Town is spread across an impossibly wide canvas—a club or bar with a dance event is as likely a tenant in any building or shopping mall as a seafood restaurant, lingerie shop, or the ever-ubiquitous tanning salon. Extend this pattern across more than 600 square miles, with a population (the fourth largest in the US) that has huge Mexican-American, African-American and Asian-American communities and, well… you get the picture.

I relocated here and have been here now for nearly three months (already?), and I hardly feel as though I’ve dipped a toe in the proverbial waters. But what I have found has been outstanding enough to excite my interest in plumbing the depths.

Of course, the most prominent scene in Houston (as your Aunt Judy could probably tell you by now) is the hip-hop one, which has gained enormous national attention in recent years. As a result, there are two kinds of specifically “dance music” events here—the ones that have a hip-hop element and the ones that don’t. Clubs such as the excellent, always free a38 have a loose “no hip-hop” policy and cater to those seeking a variety of house sounds. A number of regular events bring a classic retro feel—the requisite 80’s night, but also old-school garage and funk nights, classic hip-hop and disco-funk, etc. On the more eclectic tip, Rockbox! at the Proletariat (which also features possibly the most entertaining Karaoke night I’ve ever attended) and Danseparc at Numbers are the place to hear dancey rock, classic house, rap, old-school funk and disco—Sister Sledge rubbing up against Bowie and Kraftwerk, T.I. rapping over Metro Area while Justin brings the sexy back, etc. These type of freewheeling, anything goes events have become popular in most big cities of late, but there’s a real sense of looseness to the aesthetic in H-Town that keeps the events fun for the very mixed crowd they often draw.

The overwhelming virtue of Houston’s dance scene is one that can be found at any event: the casual, unpretentious attitude towards throwing a party that I’ve found sadly missing from too many clubs. There is very little focus placed on technique, a real off-center avoidance of the kind of “micro-scene” attitude to be found with many DJs, and almost no unnecessary stressing of “timeliness.” Unlike the been-there, done-that attitude of a lot of even the most eclectic parties in, say, the New York or DC area, people in the H, even the nebulous “hipsters,” don’t stress an overfamiliar 70’s disco cut or a played-out filter-house track (think Modjo’s “Lady”), an attitude I find deeply refreshing—in fact, it’s helped in many ways to cure me of my own eye-rolling habits (which, luckily don’t run that deep).

And, yes, that means in the last two months I’ve heard both “Losing My Edge” AND “House of Jealous Lovers,” and you know what? I was on the dancefloor for both of ‘em.

(To be continued…)

[Mallory O’Donnell]