“POP THAT FUKIN PUSSY

POP THAT FUKIN PUSSY

POP THAT FUKIN PUSSY

POP THAT FUKIN PUSSY

POP THAT FUKIN PUSSY”

The words—projected onto every LED display in the Foundry—flash sporadically throughout the room in pink neon lights.

“TRUSS MI DADDY

TRUSS MI DADDY

TRUSS MI DADDY

TRUSS MI DADDY

TRUSS MI DADDY”

An image of the Champagne Papi himself materializes on the colossal projection screen elevated above DJ Dirty South’s exalted booth.

“IT’S FUCKIN LIT FAM

IT’S FUCKIN LIT FAM

IT’S FUCKIN LIT FAM

IT’S FUCKIN LIT FAM

IT’S FUCKIN LIT FAM”

It’s Drake Night at the Foundry. And it’s pretty fucking lit.

Seas of young, college–age partygoers crowd the entrance of the Fillmore—one of Philadelphia’s metal factory–turned–concert venues. Adorned in baseball caps, oversized flannel shirts, blue jeans and graphic tanks, the seemingly–hipster crowd chatters anxiously and waits to get in.

The Fillmore rests in the heart of Philadelphia’s buzzing Fishtown district. The 25,000 square foot venue hosts its infamous “Drake Night: So Far Gone” within its 2,500–capacity music nightclub, located on the second level of the nightlife complex.

The crowd ascends the neon blue staircase and enters two distinct dance halls. The first: a bar room. It's a more subdued world of deep blue lights, black leather couches and glowing orange chandeliers. The bartenders—draped in black and embodying an aesthetic equal to that of the hip crowd—rush behind the bar counter to make drinks, while in direct juxtaposition, young couples lounge languorously on the couches across the bar, sprawled, laughing and cuddling in the seat. The music—faint in sound—rings softly against the speakers as attendees lightly sway back and forth to the Drake tunes currently on loop.

“How y’all doing tonight?” DJ Dirty South Joe’s voice blares from the second room of the dance hall. The crowd—jolted and revitalized—gathers itself and races up the smaller, silver staircase and enters the main floor: The Foundry.

Enter a world of thundering music, sweltering heat, dance circles, DFMOs and passionate, lascivious grinding interspersed in the dance–floor mass. The bartenders—tall, model–esque and wearing noticeably tighter black tanks and tops—are in higher demand here, exerting vigorous effort to carry out drink requests over the blaring Drake music and deafening screams of many an inebriated customer.

Cue the favorites. Remixed music. Inverted music. On repeat. Cue the mellow music, the upbeat. "Fake Love." "One Dance." "Know Yourself." "Jumpman." "Back to Back." "0–100." Sound and light become one as perfectly calibrated light displays accommodate Drake's melodies. Absurdity and spectacle collide as, interlaced between the sound, music videos and bright light shows, cat videos monopolize the LED displays—adding an element of incontrovertible bewilderment, and yet…awe.

Drake Night: So Far Gone was launched during the November of 2013 by Dirty South Joe, Gun$ Garcia and Magglezzz—all D.C. transplants who moved to Philadelphia to kickstart careers in the electonic music arena. Dirty South Joe — who has worked alongside Diplo, DJ Low Budget and other prominent artists—headlined the event. “People really gravitate towards the party and the celebration; and it’s great to celebrate success through the celebrities through whom we live vicariously,” explains Dirty South Joe. “People connect to Drake; they understand Drake.”

Dirty South Joe is no newcomer when it comes to Drake. A self–proclaimed fan, Joe explains his reasoning for pinning Drake at the center of the internationally–acclaimed event. “He’s the most prolific artist of this generation. The guy’s got more Billboard hits than the Beatles,” Dirty South exclaims. “He’s incredibly relevant not only in his music, but in the popular culture in general.”

The event spans twenty–five cities in the United States and Canada (Los Angeles, New York, Miami, Atlanta, D.C., Baltimore, Boston, and Calgary, to name a few) and only arrives in Philadelphia once every month.

While appealing to most, many attendees still hold reservations about the timing of the event. The idea of partying on Wednesday nights poses formidable concerns for people who have morning and afternoon responsibilities on Thursdays; however, there are many people who valiantly defy social obligation and choose to turn all the way up. “I thought it was Friday today…but who says you can’t get lit on a Wednesday?” Alice K., Joe’s girlfriend, jokes.

So forget your worries, your 9 a.m.'s, your early meetings and your morning routines (or at least break out of your Sink or Swim comfort zone) and experience the spectacle that is Drake Night: So Far Gone at the Foundry. 


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