Slo'Mo's running party is picking up speed
By Britt Julious
DJ Audio Jack (Erin Jackson) of Slo'Mo. (Moll Jean)
Home is hard-won in Chicago. This is a city full of neighborhoods and scenes; cliques abound, and it can be difficult to feel like you fit in when everyone else fits in someplace else. Nightlife can be an especially potent example of this scenario, with expectations of what to do and where to go (and who to spend that time with) fueling one's evenings.
But none of that matters to the Slo'Mo crew, and that healthy attitude toward creating and fostering community in a city that is fractured and vast has made the outfit's party a running success for nearly four years. Clubs, bars and parties open and close at breakneck speed in the city, yet Slo'Mo continues to thrive by catering to its audiences first and tapping into an underutilized and underappreciated musical genre — quiet storm hits and R&B slow jams from the '70s to the present.
Housed monthly on the Northwest Side at cocktail bar The Whistler, Slo'Mo began as a small idea from event planner and publicist Kristen Kaza, and grew to include resident DJs Tess (Kisner) and Audio Jack (Erin Jackson). Besides focusing extensively on the music, Kaza and Kisner were interested in building a radically welcoming home for queer identity and allies of the queer community.
"Community is more than just being out and drinking at the club," Jackson said when recalling the time in which a Slo'Mo guest helped her search for her lost belongings. "Some of my best friends I've met out dancing or through other people I met out dancing," Jackson continued. "Community is so important and so real and transitional. It changes and new people join the scene."
Kisner agreed, emphasizing that the warm, welcoming environment at the heart of the party has grown from just a personal passion to a higher purpose. "I thought I was just doing it for me at the beginning, but now I feel like I have a social responsibility."
The music of course can't be discounted, and arriving at a Slo'Mo party feels immediately warm and familiar. This is the music you might have heard resting quietly in the back seat of a parent's car. It is the music of the come down and the end of the night. This is music to love and music for lovers. It is not raunchy or ridiculous, only pure of intent and groove.
On any given night, you'll hear classic jams from Sade or Janet Jackson, cut with new hits from D'Angelo and Frank Ocean. For DJs Kisner and Jackson, slow jams could mean a number of different things. Besides the obvious choices, guests may find a Bjork deep cut or Portishead specialty slipped in. Kisner refers to it as "skimming songs out of time that fit."
It's no surprise, then, that Slo'Mo temporarily outgrew its home at The Whistler. Lines routinely ran down the block. The group moved its party to another Logan Square bar, Slippery Slope, but the much-larger space was not the right fit for the atmosphere, so they returned to the small-but-special confines of The Whistler. "That was the most important part of the party: that feeling of community and reciprocity," Kaza said about returning to the bar. "It's important to see everyone in the room when you're trying to cultivate a room that feels like a homecoming."
New ventures for the crew include concerts, like the upcoming Slo'Mo: Paradise, and venturing beyond the confines of the Logan Square neighborhood to throw events on the city's South Side, where many Slo'Mo guests live. But the core party will continue to exist as a center for the marginalized and ignored, the music lovers and the fanatics alike. "As we grow and do these other things that we're trying out, it's important that we always have this free party," Kaza said. "Slo'Mo is more than just a nightlife party."
Julious is a freelancer.
Eminem releases surprise album, advocates changes to gun laws
New Grammys chief Deborah Dugan exits post, just 10 days before awards show
Ariana Grande hit with copyright lawsuit over '7 Rings'
Mike Gordon and his music is about a process of 'letting go,' a surrender just like when he's pulling strings for Phish
For new Grammys boss Deborah Dugan, change is (mostly) good: 'Everything's being examined'
onthetown@tribpub.com
When: 9 p.m. Friday
Where: The Promontory, 5311 S. Lake Park Ave
Tickets: $20 advance, $25 day of, 312-801-2100 or promontorychicago.com