WERC Crew celebrates one-year anniversary

Local collective brings the dance scene back into focus

On a brisk Thursday evening in Atlanta’s Poncey-Highland neighborhood, members of the WERC Crew are all huddled together in a booth at the Local. DJs Ira IV, Xavier BLK, Thrice Groove, and Jeremy Avalon are flanked by artists Anthony David and Micah Freeman, with co-founder Will Edmond and day-to-day manager Aleshea Tripplett rounding out the bunch. Sans DJ/producer Byron the Aquarius and singer-songwriter BOSCO the gang is all here, and they’re going through the origins of their event production, and talent management collective as it approaches the one-year mark.

As the story goes, the unofficial foundation for WERC was laid out three years ago in an effort by a group of friends to throw an epic Fourth of July pool party called WET. The roster of creative party planners included Edmond, Ira IV, Xavier BLK, Omar Ferrer of NEVR, BOSCO, visual artist Sean Fahie, graphic designer Ashley Rhoden, and Awful Records’ Morian Thomas. “It was, you know, ‘House Party’ crazy,” says Ira IV referring to the 1990 comedy film starring Kid ‘N’ Play.

Later the group discussed bringing like-minded creative individuals together for a good time and the name “WERC” (“Crew” spelled backwards) was born. However, that momentum didn’t exactly carry over, and for the next year nothing happened. That was until the transplants of the crew, Xavier BLK (New York City), Ira IV (Oklahoma City), and Edmond (Texas), who helped Jason Carter with booking for One Musicfest, came up with a plan based on what they felt was lacking musically in Atlanta.

After hearing feedback from their peers Avalon and David, two musicians with deep local ties and knowledge in the city, they came up with a plan of attack. “I think we noticed a real interesting void where, if you go to some of these bigger tours that come in like Toro y Moi and Little Dragon, those kind of more indie artists, they’re packed, and sold out every time, but on the weekly we can’t find shit out here like that,” Xavier BLK says.

The three men set their sights on Atlanta’s dance music scene, and it’s waning influence in a city whose early hip-hop days featured heavy doses of everything from the booty shake and bounce music of Kilo Ali to the packed soul music functions at Funk Jazz Kafé. The idea was simple: They would bring dance-focused musicians to Atlanta to perform at parties they produced with their talent filling the rest of the bill.

The idea hit a fever pitch in April 2014 when WERC brought Grand Rapids-based DJ/producer, Sango, to Graveyard to perform in front of 750 people. In the time since, it’s safe to say that after some 25-plus shows, the WERC Crew has successfully found an audience for their eclectic brand of R&B, hip-hop, trap, soul, EDM, and Caribbean vibes. On top of that, they’ve partnered with local organizations such as Art, Beats + Lyrics (the traveling art show, and corresponding digital radio station) and can be heard playing everywhere from Space 2 on Edgewood Avenue to Opera in Midtown. “Atlantans, their iPods are jam-packed, and right next to Gucci Mane is James Blake, and all these other obscure electronic artists,” says Xavier BLK, who models the WERC parties after Paradise Garage of New York City’s late ’70s, early ’80s club scene. Like Paradise’s Larry Levan’s events that put the DJ at the center of the revelry, and invited the social outcasts left out of the mainstream Studio 54 crowd, the WERC parties come with no preconceived musical notions. “If we can come and do monthly and weekly events to bring that audience together then let’s do it, so we don’t have to wait till it gets to TomorrowWorld or CounterPoint,” Xavier BLK adds.

Along with giving locals a reason to make a return to the dance floor, the WERC Crew aims to introduce the audience to new music, whether it be from the Soulection camp or other dance-centric labels and crews or locally based acts such as Marian Mareeba or iLoveMakonnen. From the Buckhead doctor who loves jazz to the New York transplant looking to find that boom-bap sound of the ’90s, there’s literally something for everyone. “Our goal is unity,” Edmond says. “You can be white, black, Asian, transgender, whatever, you can come to a WERC party and feel like nobody’s going to care. You can come here and know it’s going to be a fucking good time.”