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Press (US); September 1995 The sleepy town of Lakewood, Wisconsin got an unexpected surprise Memorial Day weekend when over 3000 Midwestern ravers descended on the Paul Bunyan Ski Hill for Even Furthur, "4 days of music, camping and being friendly." Organized and promoted by Milwaukee's Drop Bass Network and Chicago's Ripe Promotions and the charming David Prince, the follow-up to last year's Furthur party in Hixton, WI drew attendees from not only surrounding Illinois and Minnesota as well as the cheese state itself, but even from as far away as New York and London. And despite a steady rain that began Saturday and didn't let up until Monday morning (and that mud was cold, let me tell you), the party proved tremendous fun. Besides, the argon laser on Saturday looked even cooler flashing over the timberline with raindrops shimmering in the beams (3000 ravers going "oooh" is a beautiful sound).
Cooperative local authorities nixed keeping the big sound system pumping all night, but between the "official" tents and a smattering of smaller sound systems imported from around the Midwest, there was music to be heard at all hours. And even thought he preferred musical flavors - hardcore and jungle - disagree with yours truly, we still found plenty of sounds to keep us in motion: A swell afternoon set from Terry Mullan, a tasty tag-team acidfest with the boys from Electronic Music Foundation, and a 5 am romp with Astroboy. While roaming the hills and dales of Paul Bunyan we also heard a couple sweet sets of classic disco and electro that didn't deliver any surprises (no, I'm not too jaded for Sesame Street Disco) but provided welcome relief. The Spiral Tribe Sound System didn't find their way over from the UK as anticipated, but our beloved Instinct Records artists Prototype 909 did make the haul from Brooklyn, New York, and rewarded the faithful with a groovy live set early Monday morning. Best of all, we made all manner of new friends wandering from campfire to sound system, from the school bus set up by the Massive 'zine posse, to the blooming speakers and disco lights atop the highest peak in the park (which we dubbed "Witch Mountain," and foolishly scaled the slippery incline to visit time and again, regardless of our state). Thanks to all the kids who offered us a ward resting place, a cold beer, and news of the scene in their town. You can bet we'll be packing up next year to return for Furthur '96; hopefully we'll be raving in just a wee bit sunnier clime (or at least have the good sense to lose our Manhattan handicap and bring adequate supplies and provisions).
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