They danced with the frantic, jerking movements of a person undergoing a seizure. They danced like their lives depended on it. Women spun glow sticks attached to long strands of wire like medieval flails, and men nodded their heads vigorously to the urgent, chaotic rhythm that pulsated with an intensity normally reserved for a place of worship.
The gathered congregation packed tightly into corners to make room for the glow stick spinners to perform. The dexterity exhibited by these weapons of nimble jubilation held the crowd spellbound, and they watched eagerly as the individual strands of light turned to twin halos that surrounded the performers' bodies like kamikaze spirals of syncopated harmony.
The music was like something you'd hear from some pseudo-intellectual science fiction film; the decor looked as though it had taken its main inspiration from the movie "Tron: Legacy." The surfaces -from the bar to the tables and the HD televisions that displayed psychedelic, fluctuating images on the walls - glowed with an ambient, prescient light that transformed all of the club's occupants from mere mortals into matriculated characters who knew this night was theirs and theirs alone.
Grace Park, a UF health science student, expressed it best. "Places and music like this kind of help you find yourself. It's like you run with the music, you get lost, and then it helps you find yourself. No matter what kind of day you've had, the music just takes care of you."
By closing time on Feb. 18, The Loft - the upstairs cousin of The Vault, 238 W. University Ave.-had welcomed less than 200 people who came out to enjoy the new venue of Eric Olsen (known throughout Gainesville as DJ Pillager) and his pet production, Basscamp.
Prior to their debut at the upstairs portion of The Vault, the weekly event had lived a nomadic existence, moving from clubs like Seven and Liquid to house parties and sponsored events.
"We were there at The Vault most of the summer, then wanted to try a few different things," Olsen said. We were all over the place, but now that we're back, it feels really good to be in that atmosphere again. They've really got it together, and it's definitely nice to work for them."
The working relationship among management teams for The Vault, The Loft and Basscamp seems mutually beneficial.
"We had about 200 people show up for opening night, just under capacity," Olsen said. I've got a really good feeling about this, and I think that next week is going to be off the chain."
Basscamp's debut at its new venue began at 10 p.m., opening with a two-hour set from Olsen's partner for the evening, 22-year-old Tim Galang, known as DJ Tsurugi.
Like most disc jockeys, Galang got his start with Basscamp through a show of fandom and dedication.
"I just kept showing up, liked what I heard, and after I told him I also was a DJ, I started bringing my records with me to every show," Galang said. "If there was a last-minute cancellation, or something went wrong, I'd be ready to take the stand. I kept showing I was dedicated, and Eric [Olsen] finally gave me a shot."
But a mutual affection for dubstep is not the only thing these two have in common: They keep detailed recordings of their shows for personal enjoyment and for fans who did not make it to the club to hear them play.
"I usually post all the Basscamp-related stuff to the Facebook fan page," Olsen said. "But I'm planning on posting the last show on Grooveshark at some point in the near future."
The tracks themselves are extensive. According to Olsen, files are recorded in waveform format, one of the highest qualities of audio recording.
"All of my recordings are legit. Each hour of the set runs to about two gigabytes, and there's a whole archive of music I've still got to go through," Olsen said. "It takes some time, but I plan on having them available to listen to soon."
Galang uses a similar method.
"All the stuff I record I post on either my Mixcloud or SoundCloud account," Galang said. "I play at a bunch of different places around town, playing different tempos and stuff, but everything I make you can hear at those two places."
"I definitely like that the heavy bass side of dubstep is started to get more expansive now," Galang said. "I have a cousin that actually was from London, so he was the one who kind of started to get me into the more UK aspect of the scene."
And it is exactly that scene which brought the people out in droves.
Kadie Oliver, a 23-year-old cosmetologist and Gainesville resident, said, "I'm just so glad it's here. People have been asking about this kind of music for years, and I'm thrilled that Pillager came and helped introduce dubstep to the area. Before he came, there was only House music. He's helped change the Gainesville club scene."
And judging from the fact that Basscamp just finished signing contracts with The Vault, it looks as though it may help change the Gainesville club scene.
Though specific contract details were not revealed, Olsen said "We finalized signing the contracts of Monday the 21st, and we're going to be here to stay for a while."
Sophia Brucker, an 18-year-old Santa Fe College dance student , couldn't be more pleased.
"My friends told me about this being out here, and after being here for a little while, I think it's the most amazing music ever," Brucker said. "I'm going to tell everyone they should come."
From talking with patrons such as Brucker and Oliver, it's clear that Basscamp in Gainesville represents something for the countless individuals who attend each installment. Whether they be first-timers, mystified and entranced by the bizarre tonality and complete irregularity of the music, or diehard fans for whom the event has become something to look forward to each week, it's obvious they'll never leave empty-handed.
From merely asking the question, "What brought you out here tonight?", it's apparent that Basscamp is not just some event at just some club for these people, but rather representative of the fact that no matter where you come from, who you associate with or what you believe, you can find a niche here where you will be accepted.
"The people are really chill, really welcoming," Park said. "At most other clubs, it's almost a chore being there because there are always guys who are trying to dance on you and hit on you, but here [at Basscamp], it's just relaxing and comfortable. Everyone's just doing their own thing."
"The dubstep crowd is more into it; they know what they like," said Danny Womack, 30, the owner of both The Loft and The Vault. "It brings out a greater variety of people, and all of them just love listening to dubstep."
The dubstep scene in Gainesville, which is still mostly an underground attraction, is indicative of the vast population of diversity at UF and the surrounding areas of Gainesville.
Girls with dreadlocks dressed in simple skirts and halter tops swayed right alongside members of the Kappa Epsilon Kappa pharmacology fraternity, each dancing without care to the beat of his own drum and each enjoying his moments when he, for a time, became the center of attention as the crowd would watch and cheer the luminescent geometry that followed the neon hula hoops and glow sticks.
Old and young sat side by side with people of varying cultures on the white leather couches that populate various areas of The Loft, adding to the upscale nature of the establishment and indicating that this music, by some bizarre circumstance, truly showcases how diverse and accommodating Basscamp is.
"We're open to everyone," Olsen said. "Anyone whose into the experimental, we're more than welcoming."
Park agreed.
"I'm much more of an experimental music person, so this is more of my scene. I like to be immersed in my music, and I love to feel the bass running through my veins. It's so loud and yet so calming. You can't help but get lost in it."
And it is that chaotic, yet calming quality of the music that has helped Basscamp thrive.
As witnessed through multiple examples of other clubs and other music played locally, there always seems to be that one moment of contention between two or more patrons, where a situation arises and the tone for whatever group is there becomes heated.
Either because of the violent nature of rap lyrics or the angry tone of rock songs, public gatherings, whether they be clubs or concerts, have always been plagued by some form of an outbreak between participants or fans.
However, with dubstep, the exact opposite is emphasized, leading to a much more melodious interaction between those who choose to visit clubs that spin dubstep.
"There's never really much of a problem with the dubstep crowd," Womack said. "Everybody's just looking to have a good time, and they're mostly there for the music and the culture. Nobody who comes to these events is just looking to get drunk and start something. To be honest, I've never seen a fight break out with the dubstep crowd."
And for many of the students and residents of Gainesville who are looking for a change of pace from the pressures and situations of other clubs, Basscamp may just provide that relief.
"We want it to be about the music," Olsen said. "It's just all about the music."
And from how the events of the evening played out, it certainly does seem to be about nothing but the music.
At one point during the night, the force of the music became too much for the club's fuses, and the overload caused a breaker to blow. Immediately, the cries of outrage that reverberated through the suddenly silent halls of The Loft were tinged with anxiety and confusion, prompting the interspersed security guards to tense as though they feared the onset of a riot.
Once the problem was fixed and he had returned to his rightful place, DJ Pillager simply spread his arms wide and screamed like a gladiator preparing to battle as he brought one hand crashing down to smash into the play button on the turntables.
The crowd erupted, and for just that moment in this minuscule nook of northern Florida, Eric Olsen was a god.
