Imagine for a second I'm at your work, I'm sitting next to you at your desk.
I spill a drink down your top, and as I apologies, a little bit of spickle lands on your cheek as I propel my words out, battling with the soundsystem. I stumble around the office doing a discombobulated dance looking for the toilets before forgetting what I was doing and start hitting on your female boss. And finally, I light up a fag and start exuding noxious fumes all over you, fumes so claggy, so hard-to-shift that your pens, your stapler, your hair, your shirt, your XL documents reek of smoke. And then I stub said fag out against your jumper mid dance move, burning a hole through to your scarred arm.
Well, that's a pretty ordinary day at the office for a DJ. And largely, it's fine - you head into a club to have a drink, to have a chat, to have a dance, even just to be a bit of a dick. They're all choices, and most don't have a definite or lasting impact.
But smoking does, and increasingly it is becoming a choice around the world.
The UK brought in non-smoking 5 years ago, New York and Toronto long ago opted out, and while smoking has been outlawed in various areas of Dubai (public and municipality buildings), it's still to find its way into club land.
And I for one can't wait for it to come.
Through various decisions, a lot of my life revolves around bars and clubs - from writing about them for DJ Magazine, Time Out and now Infusion, to DJing in clubs most weekends, I spend a lot of time in smoke-filled, poorly ventilated clubs. And my laptop, headphones, CDs, hair and clothes reek of smoke, which means my lungs can only be gasping for fresh air.
While the UK argument might have been paused to think about the reduction in cigarette tax revenue (perhaps offset by savings to the NHS?) and smokers' reluctance to stand in the cold getting their nicotine fix, we're faced with different pressures and problems in Dubai.
Firstly, fags cost next-to-nothing: Dhs10 at most for a pack of 20 (that's about 1 pound 60 embittered UK dwellers). So there's little tax impact, and zero health benefits as medical care is private. But the Middle East has long been a smoking haven, and it's ingrained in the UAE culture thanks to shisha - some of the best venues in town offer a shisha terrace or facilities (360, N'Dulge, Trilogy etc).
This in itself should provide a hint at a possible (and easily implemented) solution - smoking should be outlawed everywhere but on the terrace/rooftop/somewhere outside. And considering the year round sunshine (a 40 degree fag has to be better than a nicotine hit that risks frostbite) and the outdoor spaces, this has to be a strong contender.
Or, as a friend suggested, clubs could actually spend some of their hard-earned dirhams on properly ventilating their indoor rooms - it wouldn't alleviate the problem entirely, but it would go a long way to helping beat second hand smoke. But we're talking industrial sized fans, rather than a makeshift fan which has less huff than an asthmatic fish.
Clubs would then be smoke free, and thanks to the proclivity of rampant DTCM inspectors happy to enforce nonsense rules like this, they can patrol the premises and hand out fines to the venue (which could even be put towards lung cancer charities?).
Having grown up in smokey pubs and clubs (not literally - my folks aren't bad people), I can see the advantages smoking brings. It lends atmosphere, it blurs the edges and adds depth to a room which otherwise might be too clean cut or stark. The smell also covers a multitude of stinks: having been back to the UK post-ban, I can confirm that venues now reek of BO and farts, a truly devilish concoction. Some clubs have even had to pump in synthetic smells to cover up the stink. On top of that, some clubs have suffered as clubbers rush for a cigarette hit and desert the floor. And of course, smoking is cool.
But fundamentally, clubbing is about choice - the right to choose your music, what you wear, who you go with, what you drink. But you haven't chosen the right to breathe in someone else's second hand smoke, and be exposed to any number of far-reaching, life-threatening illnesses.
And that's a choice we all should be able to make ourselves.
Monday, 28 May 2012
Thursday, 19 April 2012
The rise of the deckheads
Friday May 8, 2013, Miami Music Conference
Welcome to Dave's world, Dave's 9-5, Dave's line of work. Not for Dave the stifled hell of a cocooned office job, not for Dave the laborious monotony of construction, or even the fact-or-fiction number crunching of a banker.
Dave conducts sweeping, synsape-popping electronic music in a room rammed full of weapon's grade narcotics and bowel-loosening bassbins. His office has nitrate-swollen sweat drips from the ceiling, his water cooler gossip is supplied by gurning punters who clamour like the living dead at the front of Dave's office (AKA the DJ Booth).
And Dave, stood stock still in his finest All Saints threads, index finger perfectly poised above the play button, is paralyzed by a potent mix of fear: fear of being found out, fear of being revealed like a bad magic gag by 'not a lot' Paul Daniels, but ultimately, the fear that inexorably rises inside every DJ that's been faced by an unruly hoard of beat-hungry clubbers, the fear that without this artificial environment, without the tinnitus-inducing sound system and without the toxic cocktail of booze and chemicals eviscerating the crowd, he's simply Dave. For 4 hours every weekend (and during grandstanding press interviews when Dave pretends he really does live the hedonistic life style, snorting a home-made mix of ants, Bolivia's finest and, inevitably, some crushed up toilet cleaner for Elevenses), he lives the dream at work.
He gives a worrying percentage of the population a reason to live as they countdown the 9,600 minutes from when they leave the club as a mangled, A&E ready corpse at 6am until they can re-enter a week later. He lets shadow-dwelling drug dealers hustle their way to a conscience-free fortune, he lets high rollers flash their cash (and cold-plated credit cards) in the VIP area, he lets students blow their bank loans as they embark on a 48 hour bender learning in the process that comedowns really aren't conducive to a degree and that home-made bongs really should be tidied away before the parents come round.
But the sad, inescapable truth is that Dave is ordinary - like off-white, beige kinda ordinary, like Saturday afternoon down at Ikea sort of ordinary. Dave is the most boring man he knows (and having become embroiled in more after-party chats that are a spectacular combination of narcissistic hot air fueled by after-party supplies), he knows all about stultifying degrees of boring.
He spends his time Googling his name, eager to find any relevant - and often non-relevant - reference to himself in the online world. And when he's not Googling himself, and sending his analytics into a self-propelled spin, he's selling his own distinct brand of hidden boredom via Facebook and Twitter, making sure his social media output is a direct reversal of his actual social output. He spends hours - sometimes days - locked away in his sweaty, socky study hunched over his laptop trying to decipher which of the 86 almost identical sounding tech-house tracks will detonate the dancefloor into a seething mess of clubbers. He spends his time looking wistfully at the party pictures taken during his set, the over-tanned and out-of-his-league club girls he never gets to meet leering at the camera while he's up in the DJ booth making the trainspotters froth with nervous excitement as he drops unreleased white label after unreleased white label.
The fact that Dave is even up on that raised podium, spreading his arms wide in a Jesus-was-never-this-good pose is a cosmic fuck up of biblical proportions, the likes of which haven't been seen since Jimmy Saville inadvertently spawned the birth of DJ culture. Dave makes progressive house sound like seismic, earth-titling dubstep in comparison, he's that dull.
Before Dave actually became a big DJ, he dreamed of becoming a big DJ, he dreamed of commanding per-hour fees that would put a small African's GDP to shame, he dreamed of controlling the every move of thousands of clubbers, he dreamed of touring the world playing his counter cultural, revolution stirring (in his wildest dreams at least) mix of house music.
And the thing is, Dave is not alone in having this dream, oh, far, far far from it. Rightly or wrongly, Dave is a very real, very tangible by-product of today's society Decks Factor society. For Dave is merely the tip of the DJing iceberg, one of quite literally millions who believe that playing other people's music - and if they're supremely talented, their own music - to other people is not only a worthy occupation that should be pursued, but one that should fulfill their every waking thought.
But right now, none of that self-importance, none of that hype matters, as Dave is blissfully unaware of man's greatest fear. Dave is about to experience quite what his success means to other people, quite how far DJ disciples will go to try and turn the tables and flip the script. Because Dave, or Dave Van Pyke as the rest of the world knows him, has a flickering red dot hovering just below his bespoke customised Dave by Beats By Dre headphones and above his vintage-but-not-vintage t-shirt, with a hidden sniper about to pull the trigger at the signal. How did drastically dull Dave end up here? Well, that's a story best told in Dave's own words…
Welcome to Dave's world, Dave's 9-5, Dave's line of work. Not for Dave the stifled hell of a cocooned office job, not for Dave the laborious monotony of construction, or even the fact-or-fiction number crunching of a banker.
Dave conducts sweeping, synsape-popping electronic music in a room rammed full of weapon's grade narcotics and bowel-loosening bassbins. His office has nitrate-swollen sweat drips from the ceiling, his water cooler gossip is supplied by gurning punters who clamour like the living dead at the front of Dave's office (AKA the DJ Booth).
And Dave, stood stock still in his finest All Saints threads, index finger perfectly poised above the play button, is paralyzed by a potent mix of fear: fear of being found out, fear of being revealed like a bad magic gag by 'not a lot' Paul Daniels, but ultimately, the fear that inexorably rises inside every DJ that's been faced by an unruly hoard of beat-hungry clubbers, the fear that without this artificial environment, without the tinnitus-inducing sound system and without the toxic cocktail of booze and chemicals eviscerating the crowd, he's simply Dave. For 4 hours every weekend (and during grandstanding press interviews when Dave pretends he really does live the hedonistic life style, snorting a home-made mix of ants, Bolivia's finest and, inevitably, some crushed up toilet cleaner for Elevenses), he lives the dream at work.
He gives a worrying percentage of the population a reason to live as they countdown the 9,600 minutes from when they leave the club as a mangled, A&E ready corpse at 6am until they can re-enter a week later. He lets shadow-dwelling drug dealers hustle their way to a conscience-free fortune, he lets high rollers flash their cash (and cold-plated credit cards) in the VIP area, he lets students blow their bank loans as they embark on a 48 hour bender learning in the process that comedowns really aren't conducive to a degree and that home-made bongs really should be tidied away before the parents come round.
But the sad, inescapable truth is that Dave is ordinary - like off-white, beige kinda ordinary, like Saturday afternoon down at Ikea sort of ordinary. Dave is the most boring man he knows (and having become embroiled in more after-party chats that are a spectacular combination of narcissistic hot air fueled by after-party supplies), he knows all about stultifying degrees of boring.
He spends his time Googling his name, eager to find any relevant - and often non-relevant - reference to himself in the online world. And when he's not Googling himself, and sending his analytics into a self-propelled spin, he's selling his own distinct brand of hidden boredom via Facebook and Twitter, making sure his social media output is a direct reversal of his actual social output. He spends hours - sometimes days - locked away in his sweaty, socky study hunched over his laptop trying to decipher which of the 86 almost identical sounding tech-house tracks will detonate the dancefloor into a seething mess of clubbers. He spends his time looking wistfully at the party pictures taken during his set, the over-tanned and out-of-his-league club girls he never gets to meet leering at the camera while he's up in the DJ booth making the trainspotters froth with nervous excitement as he drops unreleased white label after unreleased white label.
The fact that Dave is even up on that raised podium, spreading his arms wide in a Jesus-was-never-this-good pose is a cosmic fuck up of biblical proportions, the likes of which haven't been seen since Jimmy Saville inadvertently spawned the birth of DJ culture. Dave makes progressive house sound like seismic, earth-titling dubstep in comparison, he's that dull.
Before Dave actually became a big DJ, he dreamed of becoming a big DJ, he dreamed of commanding per-hour fees that would put a small African's GDP to shame, he dreamed of controlling the every move of thousands of clubbers, he dreamed of touring the world playing his counter cultural, revolution stirring (in his wildest dreams at least) mix of house music.
And the thing is, Dave is not alone in having this dream, oh, far, far far from it. Rightly or wrongly, Dave is a very real, very tangible by-product of today's society Decks Factor society. For Dave is merely the tip of the DJing iceberg, one of quite literally millions who believe that playing other people's music - and if they're supremely talented, their own music - to other people is not only a worthy occupation that should be pursued, but one that should fulfill their every waking thought.
But right now, none of that self-importance, none of that hype matters, as Dave is blissfully unaware of man's greatest fear. Dave is about to experience quite what his success means to other people, quite how far DJ disciples will go to try and turn the tables and flip the script. Because Dave, or Dave Van Pyke as the rest of the world knows him, has a flickering red dot hovering just below his bespoke customised Dave by Beats By Dre headphones and above his vintage-but-not-vintage t-shirt, with a hidden sniper about to pull the trigger at the signal. How did drastically dull Dave end up here? Well, that's a story best told in Dave's own words…
Sunday, 19 February 2012
The (not so) subtle art of promotion...
DJs get into DJing to play good music to good people to help them have a good night out. It's that simple.
But increasingly DJing has become promotion. Both self promotion (hmm, gotta love endless self aggrandizing) and promotion of the event you're playing.
And both are fine - necessary evils if you will, especially for producers turned DJs, happier with their head in a copy of Ableton than shouting said head off. If you're good, there should be no problem telling people about it. And presumably as you've been booked to play a night, you're happy to be associated with that event, so telling people about it isn't going against any DJ code of omerta.
Having DJ'd and run events in Dubai for 6 years, I like to think I've got a handle on what it takes to promote a night reasonably well (the main thing is passion for what you're doing - without that, you're dead in the water), but over that time, the lines between Djing and promoting have got blurrier than a night out with Brandon Block.
Increasingly, promoters want their DJs to co-promote the event - to invite their FB database to the event, send round email blasts to your friends, and put the word out on their social networks.
But in return they're offering, well, nothing. There's none of the financial gain that a promoter has (or possible losses, equally), and you're certainly not getting paid per click as you literally invite each FB friend by clicking through a list well into the thousands. And if the event goes tits up, people will come to you for answers as you've been so visibly pushing and promoting the event.
Shouldn't the DJ's time be spent hunting down tracks, making dancefloor edits, remixes and their own material, sorting out their record collection so they've got the right bombs to drop at the right time?
I'm as guilty (if, in fact, it is something to be guilty for) as the next person - Loaded runs on a pretty low budget, so word of mouth is key and that starts from the ground up meaning me and the resident DJs. Conversely, we play a niche night which we put on largely because no one else is playing the tunes we play, so it's not a financially motivated night (even more so when you consider the drink deals and free tequila we give out). Where do resident DJs fall into though? Should they spam their followers, friends and interested internet bystanders, or is it their job to, you know, play music? Does the number of people they bring down to the event impact the way that promoters look at them?
Equally, do those who do the most shouting get the most gigs, even if, for example, they're a more limited DJ than those who prefer to let the music do the talking? Not all DJs are socially adept, some probably prefer the sanctity and solitude of the DJ booth where they don't have to answer to questions (apart from fielding crappy requests).
The worst though are those who brag and promote without substance, just shouting 'look world here's me doing stuff, and here's me again doing more stuff,' the inane drivel slowly mounting into a torturous mountain of promotional babble. And some are just offensive: 'Yeah, smashed that gig in the FACE. Who's your Daddy now?' Really?
And then you get those that either buy in their promoting powers (1 million Facebook fans, a sudden rush of 20,000 extra Twitter followers?) and those that abuse their powers by telling their Twitter denizens that the club was packed to the rafters last night, when in actual fact the bar staff were quietly mopping the dancefloor at 1.30am.
In effect, it's a null and void question. Social networks are such an ingrained part of our life now that if you refused to help out on the promotion front, it would surely mark you out as the black sheep of the Djing family. Promotion is the art of making noise, and noise is something all DJs know a lot about. But with sifting through all the garbage out there increasingly becoming a full time job, alongside your normal DJ duties, it's never been harder to make yourself heard.
But increasingly DJing has become promotion. Both self promotion (hmm, gotta love endless self aggrandizing) and promotion of the event you're playing.
And both are fine - necessary evils if you will, especially for producers turned DJs, happier with their head in a copy of Ableton than shouting said head off. If you're good, there should be no problem telling people about it. And presumably as you've been booked to play a night, you're happy to be associated with that event, so telling people about it isn't going against any DJ code of omerta.
Having DJ'd and run events in Dubai for 6 years, I like to think I've got a handle on what it takes to promote a night reasonably well (the main thing is passion for what you're doing - without that, you're dead in the water), but over that time, the lines between Djing and promoting have got blurrier than a night out with Brandon Block.
Increasingly, promoters want their DJs to co-promote the event - to invite their FB database to the event, send round email blasts to your friends, and put the word out on their social networks.
But in return they're offering, well, nothing. There's none of the financial gain that a promoter has (or possible losses, equally), and you're certainly not getting paid per click as you literally invite each FB friend by clicking through a list well into the thousands. And if the event goes tits up, people will come to you for answers as you've been so visibly pushing and promoting the event.
Shouldn't the DJ's time be spent hunting down tracks, making dancefloor edits, remixes and their own material, sorting out their record collection so they've got the right bombs to drop at the right time?
I'm as guilty (if, in fact, it is something to be guilty for) as the next person - Loaded runs on a pretty low budget, so word of mouth is key and that starts from the ground up meaning me and the resident DJs. Conversely, we play a niche night which we put on largely because no one else is playing the tunes we play, so it's not a financially motivated night (even more so when you consider the drink deals and free tequila we give out). Where do resident DJs fall into though? Should they spam their followers, friends and interested internet bystanders, or is it their job to, you know, play music? Does the number of people they bring down to the event impact the way that promoters look at them?
Equally, do those who do the most shouting get the most gigs, even if, for example, they're a more limited DJ than those who prefer to let the music do the talking? Not all DJs are socially adept, some probably prefer the sanctity and solitude of the DJ booth where they don't have to answer to questions (apart from fielding crappy requests).
The worst though are those who brag and promote without substance, just shouting 'look world here's me doing stuff, and here's me again doing more stuff,' the inane drivel slowly mounting into a torturous mountain of promotional babble. And some are just offensive: 'Yeah, smashed that gig in the FACE. Who's your Daddy now?' Really?
And then you get those that either buy in their promoting powers (1 million Facebook fans, a sudden rush of 20,000 extra Twitter followers?) and those that abuse their powers by telling their Twitter denizens that the club was packed to the rafters last night, when in actual fact the bar staff were quietly mopping the dancefloor at 1.30am.
In effect, it's a null and void question. Social networks are such an ingrained part of our life now that if you refused to help out on the promotion front, it would surely mark you out as the black sheep of the Djing family. Promotion is the art of making noise, and noise is something all DJs know a lot about. But with sifting through all the garbage out there increasingly becoming a full time job, alongside your normal DJ duties, it's never been harder to make yourself heard.
Tuesday, 10 January 2012
Best of 2011
The Black Keys - El Camino
Like The White Stripes: big, bold basslines, scuzzy 60s guitars. Unlike the Stripes, pulverising, in-time drums. This is their 7th album, and hopefully the one that sets them onto super-stardom. And not only is this an amazing track from the album, the tongue-in-cheek video sh*ts over most of the crap shown in Dubai's cinemas.
Gil Scott Heron vs Jamie xx - I'll Take Care Of You
Like The Jesus and Mary Chain covering the Beach Boys (No, really! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sb4OJ4EQajk), this really really shouldn't work, but it really, really does, as Jamie xx's reworking of Gil Scott Heron's album took it to bold, dazzling new heights. And this song, the album's finest moment, was criminally short at just 4 minutes of bass-buzzing beauty, hence this more DJ friendly re-work.
http://soundcloud.com/i-am-andy-buchan/jamie-xx-vs-gil-scott-heron
The Horrors - Still Life
Vivid, psychedelic but now imbued with a withering pop sensibility, The Horrors' 3rd album featured their best moment to date, the utterly bewitching 'Still Life.' A word of warning to the die hard Horrors fans out there: this version comes with a little added extra from Richard Ashcroft…
http://soundcloud.com/i-am-andy-buchan/the-horrors-vs-the-verve-still
I Break Horses - Winter Beats
Beware 3 Swedes who conjure up anti-equine names and profess they don't know how to play their instruments, when in fact they create soundscapes that echo and reverberate like a lost Sigur Ros album.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Sg7YkPnEYw
M83 - Midnight City
The weirdest pop single of the year, and also one of the best. Ghostly shrieks, intergalactic breakdowns and an 80s sax solo that would give Kenny G a run for his money combine into something truly special. And with a beats and bass re-rub, also fitted into my DJ sets rather nicely.
http://soundcloud.com/i-am-andy-buchan/m83-midnight-city-da-funct
SBTRKT - SBTRKT
The poppy, acceptable face (or mask) of the British bass scene, with 'Pharaohs' the stand out track from an outstanding album.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ErYAGQZs8e0&ob=av2e
Rustie - Glass Swords
Dubstep/Post-dubstep/future garage - the fragmented bass scene never sounded as unified as on this Warp Records release, with frazzled melodies, fractured beats and warehouse vibes combining to euphoric effect.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s4AqCrR_nAU
Tuneyards - Bizniz
A one-woman band and yet capable of sounding like a magical mashup of Sonic Youth and Vampire Weekend? Yes, yes please.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YQ1LI-NTa2s
And 2 to avoid
Bjork - Biophilia
I'm the biggest Bjork fan. I even like 'It's Oh So Quiet' despite it being the worst. song. in. the. world. But this monstrosity of beats and bleeps, where 90s rave collided headlong into 6th form poetry and prose was hideous from start to finish.
Justice - Audio Video Disco
The 'new Daft Punk' were left standing naked in the Emperor's clothing on their second album. Only 2 tracks - 'Canon' and 'Civilization' - escaped the 70s bad-rock pastiches. Bof.
Thursday, 13 October 2011
Is DJing an artform?
“It is not the job of artists to give the audience what the audience want. If the audience knew what they needed, then they wouldn’t be the audience. They would be the artist. It is the job of artists to give the audience what they need”- Alan Moore
While that might be all very well and good for the comically hirsute Alan Moore, who spends most of his time writing vivid, comic book prose for nerdy manboys, it's unlikely that he's been faced with a brunch-drunk crowd baying for some pop pap while you're intent on discovering the point where future garage dissipates into post-dubstep territory.
But the quote raised a fair bit of debate when a friend posted it on Facebook recently, with nearly 50 DJs, music-lovers and FB addicts all pitching in to give their thoughts. Essentially, it boils down to how much credence you give DJing: can playing one song after each other be considered an artform - can a selector be placed on the same critical elevation as writers, for example?
Well, put in that context, and yes. The lexicon as we know it isn't growing (well, it is, but the annual addition of words like staycation and reggaeton isn't exactly on the same level as early caveman grunts or Shakespeare's wordplay), which means that writers simply use the existing vocabulary to paint their pictures (apologies for the mixed metaphor). So in turn, with every chord structure having been discovered (it has) and music effectively eating itself to create new genres, DJs are simply using existing songs to create their masterpieces. And if the artist is deified for their work, why not the DJ?
While doubters might argue that Tom, Dick or David Guetta could play one high octane song after another - and increasingly that's true in this pop-trodden world where DJ technology can take the skill out of your hands - it's not as simple as that. The following statements aren't cliches, they're truisms: DJs need to observe the crowd, they need to adapt the pace of the music to the night, they need to know when to drop the right tune, at the right moment create dancefloor combustion, they need to know when to step it up, and when to drop it down. A large part of that is getting the right DJ in the right venue with the right crowd, but beyond that, a good DJ has to know how to work a crowd. And they need to play good music, first and foremost, which used to mean hours trawling record stores and plundering contacts, but now means days trawling the ever-expanding internet in search of new tunes and remixes that no one else has.
Increasingly, the DJ is becoming the artist at the ground level - it's rare for DJs to be just DJs these days: to get to the upper echelons, you need to have some production and remix credits under your belt. And if making music isn't art, then I'm not sure what is.
But while good music taste is something that can be worked on, etched at and manipulated, for most people it's a life-defining passion - it's the sense to rule all senses. And being able to share that music with 2/500/10,000 like-minded people (admittedly a little giddy and boozed-up) is up there with scoring a Wembley Cup Final goal, completing your first Rubick's Cube or successfully navigating Diera for the first time.
Consider what art is though: it's something that is beautiful, or appealing, that inspires emotion. And there's no denying that when Sven Vath or the BO18 residents lead you kicking and screaming into the dawn of the next day with a beautifully judged set of house and techno, it's a beautiful, beautiful thing. Or when a Mambo DJ perfectly soundtracks the setting sun in Ibiza (or, equally a 360 DJ), with a funk, soul and disco journey that raises the hair on the back of your neck. Then there are those DJs who exist on the limits of the ever-evolving DJ technology, cutting and scratching, looping and live editing to create a unique soundtrack.
And it's commonly acknowledged that artists suffer for their art - and having been asked countless times to play 'something we can dance to' by a cackling harridan while the rest of the club is bouncing, I think I know the feeling.
So, DJing is an artform then. But should the DJ pander to the audience, or should we dictate the flow? By the very definition, the DJ dictates the musical flow, but the question is how you balance the audience's expectations? And as mentioned earlier, that's largely up to the planning - finding the right DJ for the right venue and attracting the right crowd. Get that holy grail right, and everyone's a winner. But get it wrong, and you then have to balance the commercial and underground, what you want to play vs what they want to hear.
At the end of the day, you DJ to make people dance, pure and simple, but how you achieve that dancefloor detonation is your call. Some might consider it slightly less fulfilling, or arty, if you dropped a Black Eyed Peas remix to work your dancefloor into a frenzy, but if that's what it takes to make it work (and let's not forget that DJing is an artform, but for a large number it's a job as well) then so be it.
Ultimately, art is in the eye of the beholder. And even if that eye is squinting through one Bullfrog too many, it's still a valid point of view, and one that's endorsed by thousands of people every weekend who go out clubbing in Dubai every weekend to hear new and old, exciting and moving music.
While that might be all very well and good for the comically hirsute Alan Moore, who spends most of his time writing vivid, comic book prose for nerdy manboys, it's unlikely that he's been faced with a brunch-drunk crowd baying for some pop pap while you're intent on discovering the point where future garage dissipates into post-dubstep territory.
But the quote raised a fair bit of debate when a friend posted it on Facebook recently, with nearly 50 DJs, music-lovers and FB addicts all pitching in to give their thoughts. Essentially, it boils down to how much credence you give DJing: can playing one song after each other be considered an artform - can a selector be placed on the same critical elevation as writers, for example?
Well, put in that context, and yes. The lexicon as we know it isn't growing (well, it is, but the annual addition of words like staycation and reggaeton isn't exactly on the same level as early caveman grunts or Shakespeare's wordplay), which means that writers simply use the existing vocabulary to paint their pictures (apologies for the mixed metaphor). So in turn, with every chord structure having been discovered (it has) and music effectively eating itself to create new genres, DJs are simply using existing songs to create their masterpieces. And if the artist is deified for their work, why not the DJ?
While doubters might argue that Tom, Dick or David Guetta could play one high octane song after another - and increasingly that's true in this pop-trodden world where DJ technology can take the skill out of your hands - it's not as simple as that. The following statements aren't cliches, they're truisms: DJs need to observe the crowd, they need to adapt the pace of the music to the night, they need to know when to drop the right tune, at the right moment create dancefloor combustion, they need to know when to step it up, and when to drop it down. A large part of that is getting the right DJ in the right venue with the right crowd, but beyond that, a good DJ has to know how to work a crowd. And they need to play good music, first and foremost, which used to mean hours trawling record stores and plundering contacts, but now means days trawling the ever-expanding internet in search of new tunes and remixes that no one else has.
Increasingly, the DJ is becoming the artist at the ground level - it's rare for DJs to be just DJs these days: to get to the upper echelons, you need to have some production and remix credits under your belt. And if making music isn't art, then I'm not sure what is.
But while good music taste is something that can be worked on, etched at and manipulated, for most people it's a life-defining passion - it's the sense to rule all senses. And being able to share that music with 2/500/10,000 like-minded people (admittedly a little giddy and boozed-up) is up there with scoring a Wembley Cup Final goal, completing your first Rubick's Cube or successfully navigating Diera for the first time.
Consider what art is though: it's something that is beautiful, or appealing, that inspires emotion. And there's no denying that when Sven Vath or the BO18 residents lead you kicking and screaming into the dawn of the next day with a beautifully judged set of house and techno, it's a beautiful, beautiful thing. Or when a Mambo DJ perfectly soundtracks the setting sun in Ibiza (or, equally a 360 DJ), with a funk, soul and disco journey that raises the hair on the back of your neck. Then there are those DJs who exist on the limits of the ever-evolving DJ technology, cutting and scratching, looping and live editing to create a unique soundtrack.
And it's commonly acknowledged that artists suffer for their art - and having been asked countless times to play 'something we can dance to' by a cackling harridan while the rest of the club is bouncing, I think I know the feeling.
So, DJing is an artform then. But should the DJ pander to the audience, or should we dictate the flow? By the very definition, the DJ dictates the musical flow, but the question is how you balance the audience's expectations? And as mentioned earlier, that's largely up to the planning - finding the right DJ for the right venue and attracting the right crowd. Get that holy grail right, and everyone's a winner. But get it wrong, and you then have to balance the commercial and underground, what you want to play vs what they want to hear.
At the end of the day, you DJ to make people dance, pure and simple, but how you achieve that dancefloor detonation is your call. Some might consider it slightly less fulfilling, or arty, if you dropped a Black Eyed Peas remix to work your dancefloor into a frenzy, but if that's what it takes to make it work (and let's not forget that DJing is an artform, but for a large number it's a job as well) then so be it.
Ultimately, art is in the eye of the beholder. And even if that eye is squinting through one Bullfrog too many, it's still a valid point of view, and one that's endorsed by thousands of people every weekend who go out clubbing in Dubai every weekend to hear new and old, exciting and moving music.
Wednesday, 21 September 2011
Not alive and kicking
One of the main reasons I got into DJing and promoting was to put on live music - that might not hit a chord with the Beatport/Guetta generation, but having come from the UK where I would try and go to at least one gig a week, it was the be all and end all for me.
So when the chance came around to put on a Tuesday night, then Thursday and finally a Friday night at Alpha a few years ago, I jumped at the chance. We had some painfully slow nights (which could be partly blamed on the Garhoud location), and we sometimes literally had to drag people in off the street to make it look respectable. But we also had some incredible ones - over a couple of years, we booked most of the local bands to play, and also brought over people like The Futureheads, The Automatic, The Subways, The Dub Pistols, Sneaky Sound System and a few others. This isn't me walking down memory lane though, before you start losing interest - someone got in touch recently and said they wanted to put on live music. They thought there was a market for it here and would I be interested in DJing at the night. Yes to all of them, obviously, but it also got me thinking about the pitfalls, of which there are many... Hope you're sitting comfortably.
Permissions - every artist, DJ, band member needs a license to perform, and they cost roughly Dhs1500 each per person, per venue, per night. Most venues will pick this up, but if you're trying to book 3 bands, that's 15 people and about Dhs45,000 which is a lorra money before you even consider buying the...
Flights - most bands come with 2-3 backline staff, on top of the 3-5 in the band. Most will want to fly premium economy, some will even have it in their contract that they fly business while the rest of the tech crew are in the back of the plane. Flight prices fluctuate, but on average you're looking at Dhs3500 return per flight. You'll try to give them cheap Qatar flights, but they'll want direct. You'll give them late night flights, but they'll want to come back for a gig/birthday/blowjob the next day, so will need to leave right after the gig. It's a pain in the arse, essentially.
Hotels - With nearly all venues part of a hotel, some will offer up free or discounted hotel packages to your acts. But most will stipulate 5* (especially when the agent sees it's Dubai) and most will want their own rooms. So that's 6-8 rooms x 3 nights, with an average of Dhs400 per night if you are paying. And you've got to feed the bands - and take them out on the lash - so you'll need a food allowance of Dhs200 per day per person, not to mention the lasting power of an Olympic athlete. And while the rockstar throwing a TV out of the window cliche might not be as true as it once was, the rockstar being sick over the side of the bed and the promoter having to pick up the costs isn't.
Promotion - advertising can expensive out here, so you'll need to spend a lot of your budget on that. Radio might work better, but with no listener figures, it's hard to determine which station to spend your money with. You could have the best band in the world, but if you can't tell people about it, you're f*cked. Social media will get you so far, and can build up the initial hype but you need to hit the mass market to have any hope.
Crowd - Unlike the UK or in Europe, there's no student population who thrive on live, new music as it's a strict 21+ drinking age. So that means you're pitching to the 21-40 age group, which then alters what sort of bands you're going for. And with a limited music press and virtually no radio worth mentioning (in terms of breaking new indie/rock music), you can't rely on the press to push break new bands. Unless of course you consider Bryan Adams a new band, in which case you're snorted.
Venue - is key. Alpha had a very open minded management in terms of booking, so they were fully behind what we were doing. But most venues don't: they see the bottom line and bringing a DJ which is one flight and one hotel is a lot cheaper than a band, and will bring in just as much revenue. The venue has to have a soundsystem that can cope with live music (rare) and it has to be in the right part of town after the shift to New Dubai. There are some exceptions (the Music Room being an excellent one) but location, location, location is key. Most importantly, you also have to consider the door/bar split. Most venues will give you the ticket sales (minus 20% tax) and a bar cut above a certain point, but unless you've got a big venue or can charge a lot on the door, it can be a big struggle to make your money back.
Backline - guitars, drums and microphones, right? Wrong. Monitors x8, specific amps, keyboards, miles of cables, guitars and bass guitars (as the band might not bring their own to save on shipping costs for you), a specific sound desk, the right lighting, blue M&Ms etc. And the bigger the band, the bigger the technical rider, and the more headaches and hoops you'll have to jump in. Oh, and you'll need to hire a sound technician, or two. And then there are the extra requests, like a big bag of weed or some Russian hookers. Seriously.
The Devil - Or the band's agent, who'll give you UK/US prices. So if there's a buzz about them in their home country, they'll put their prices up, and when they see Dubai, they raise them again. It doesn't matter to them that they've not broken through to radio in Dubai, or their album isn't stocked in Virgin. Plus, bands don't come to Dubai to further their career, it's not part of an accepted tour (apart from if they stop off on the way to/from Australia) and if they're doing it right, they'll have plenty of offers that don't involve a 7 hour flight and a 2 hour wait at customs. They'll come for a big pay packet, or if you pitch it right a decently paid holiday - but neither of them come cheap.
And finally, you've got an immense amount of competition. Yes, there might not be much live music compared to where you've come from or what you're used to, but in October alone Janet Jackson, Metallica, Example, Richard Ashcroft, Jose Gonzales to name a few are playing live. Then you've got the regular club nights, with Masters at Work, Mark Ronson and possibly Groove Armada thrown into the equation next month. Come up against one of those nights, and you're quite simply screwed - all the good will, last minute promotion and begging and pleading isn't going to help you.
Plus, the guys at Flash are working around the clock to bring top quality international acts, so in the punter's mind you could either spend Dhs600 on a big night out to watch Metallica where you know it will be well organised and just plain ace, or you could spend half that and be stuck in a half empty room with a dodgy sound rig with a band you've barely heard of...
And that's not to mention the general antipathy and malaise that Dubai finds itself when it comes to live music. While it might be a passion for a lot of people, to some, it's just another distraction, like another night out at Barasti.
That said, book the right band and you'll create the right buzz and, hopefully, you'll break even on the night. And you'll be left with a view like this (The Subways crowd-suring in Alpha), which makes all the soundchecks, agent hassles and hard work worth it...
So when the chance came around to put on a Tuesday night, then Thursday and finally a Friday night at Alpha a few years ago, I jumped at the chance. We had some painfully slow nights (which could be partly blamed on the Garhoud location), and we sometimes literally had to drag people in off the street to make it look respectable. But we also had some incredible ones - over a couple of years, we booked most of the local bands to play, and also brought over people like The Futureheads, The Automatic, The Subways, The Dub Pistols, Sneaky Sound System and a few others. This isn't me walking down memory lane though, before you start losing interest - someone got in touch recently and said they wanted to put on live music. They thought there was a market for it here and would I be interested in DJing at the night. Yes to all of them, obviously, but it also got me thinking about the pitfalls, of which there are many... Hope you're sitting comfortably.
Permissions - every artist, DJ, band member needs a license to perform, and they cost roughly Dhs1500 each per person, per venue, per night. Most venues will pick this up, but if you're trying to book 3 bands, that's 15 people and about Dhs45,000 which is a lorra money before you even consider buying the...
Flights - most bands come with 2-3 backline staff, on top of the 3-5 in the band. Most will want to fly premium economy, some will even have it in their contract that they fly business while the rest of the tech crew are in the back of the plane. Flight prices fluctuate, but on average you're looking at Dhs3500 return per flight. You'll try to give them cheap Qatar flights, but they'll want direct. You'll give them late night flights, but they'll want to come back for a gig/birthday/blowjob the next day, so will need to leave right after the gig. It's a pain in the arse, essentially.
Hotels - With nearly all venues part of a hotel, some will offer up free or discounted hotel packages to your acts. But most will stipulate 5* (especially when the agent sees it's Dubai) and most will want their own rooms. So that's 6-8 rooms x 3 nights, with an average of Dhs400 per night if you are paying. And you've got to feed the bands - and take them out on the lash - so you'll need a food allowance of Dhs200 per day per person, not to mention the lasting power of an Olympic athlete. And while the rockstar throwing a TV out of the window cliche might not be as true as it once was, the rockstar being sick over the side of the bed and the promoter having to pick up the costs isn't.
Promotion - advertising can expensive out here, so you'll need to spend a lot of your budget on that. Radio might work better, but with no listener figures, it's hard to determine which station to spend your money with. You could have the best band in the world, but if you can't tell people about it, you're f*cked. Social media will get you so far, and can build up the initial hype but you need to hit the mass market to have any hope.
Crowd - Unlike the UK or in Europe, there's no student population who thrive on live, new music as it's a strict 21+ drinking age. So that means you're pitching to the 21-40 age group, which then alters what sort of bands you're going for. And with a limited music press and virtually no radio worth mentioning (in terms of breaking new indie/rock music), you can't rely on the press to push break new bands. Unless of course you consider Bryan Adams a new band, in which case you're snorted.
Venue - is key. Alpha had a very open minded management in terms of booking, so they were fully behind what we were doing. But most venues don't: they see the bottom line and bringing a DJ which is one flight and one hotel is a lot cheaper than a band, and will bring in just as much revenue. The venue has to have a soundsystem that can cope with live music (rare) and it has to be in the right part of town after the shift to New Dubai. There are some exceptions (the Music Room being an excellent one) but location, location, location is key. Most importantly, you also have to consider the door/bar split. Most venues will give you the ticket sales (minus 20% tax) and a bar cut above a certain point, but unless you've got a big venue or can charge a lot on the door, it can be a big struggle to make your money back.
Backline - guitars, drums and microphones, right? Wrong. Monitors x8, specific amps, keyboards, miles of cables, guitars and bass guitars (as the band might not bring their own to save on shipping costs for you), a specific sound desk, the right lighting, blue M&Ms etc. And the bigger the band, the bigger the technical rider, and the more headaches and hoops you'll have to jump in. Oh, and you'll need to hire a sound technician, or two. And then there are the extra requests, like a big bag of weed or some Russian hookers. Seriously.
The Devil - Or the band's agent, who'll give you UK/US prices. So if there's a buzz about them in their home country, they'll put their prices up, and when they see Dubai, they raise them again. It doesn't matter to them that they've not broken through to radio in Dubai, or their album isn't stocked in Virgin. Plus, bands don't come to Dubai to further their career, it's not part of an accepted tour (apart from if they stop off on the way to/from Australia) and if they're doing it right, they'll have plenty of offers that don't involve a 7 hour flight and a 2 hour wait at customs. They'll come for a big pay packet, or if you pitch it right a decently paid holiday - but neither of them come cheap.
And finally, you've got an immense amount of competition. Yes, there might not be much live music compared to where you've come from or what you're used to, but in October alone Janet Jackson, Metallica, Example, Richard Ashcroft, Jose Gonzales to name a few are playing live. Then you've got the regular club nights, with Masters at Work, Mark Ronson and possibly Groove Armada thrown into the equation next month. Come up against one of those nights, and you're quite simply screwed - all the good will, last minute promotion and begging and pleading isn't going to help you.
Plus, the guys at Flash are working around the clock to bring top quality international acts, so in the punter's mind you could either spend Dhs600 on a big night out to watch Metallica where you know it will be well organised and just plain ace, or you could spend half that and be stuck in a half empty room with a dodgy sound rig with a band you've barely heard of...
And that's not to mention the general antipathy and malaise that Dubai finds itself when it comes to live music. While it might be a passion for a lot of people, to some, it's just another distraction, like another night out at Barasti.
That said, book the right band and you'll create the right buzz and, hopefully, you'll break even on the night. And you'll be left with a view like this (The Subways crowd-suring in Alpha), which makes all the soundchecks, agent hassles and hard work worth it...
Tuesday, 6 September 2011
Supersonic!
I've been lucky enough to meet some pretty cool people along my DJ travels, and have warmed up for Ian Brown and Fatboy Slim in the last few years. But the biggest call yet came a couple of months ago when Flash - them of the deep, deep pockets and live band ambition - called and asked if Loaded, the indie club night I co-run with Simon Allen, would like to open for Liam Gallagher. As in that Liam Gallagher, ex Oasis lead singer and motor-mouthed frontman. As in the band that soundtracked a generation, as grand as that statement sounds. They might have tailed off abysmally from the highs of Definitely Maybe and What's The Story... but what highs they were (and doubly so for the band).
Upon which point, I ingested my testicles, and breathlessly - and no doubt a few octaves higher than normal - replied back 'yes please, fankyouplease.'
And while I would rather share a pint with Noel Gallagher - the man is a raconteur, who has an opinion on most things, and normally an acerbic and witty one as this amazing press conference demonstrates - younger brother Liam is the quintessential frontman.
You know his flaws: his cat, sat, matt song writing, an inability to move out of top speed and taking Beatles fanboydom into plagiarism realms. But when it comes to balls out, rock and roll, the sort that turns you into a mindless indie hooligan and walk with a Manchester swagger, even though you've never been further North than Islington, no one can touch him.
And I mean no one. Who else could sell out venues across the world on the back of 1 album (and it's a patchy one in all honesty), and with a stone-cold, and entirely understandable (not to mention principled) refusal to play Oasis songs? Yes, it's Oasis minus Noel, but that's a huge, debilitating minus.
Which can only mean the thousands and thousands of fans have come to see Liam, hands held behind his back, neck crooned up into the microphone and pigeon-chest puffed out in all its Pretty Green glory.
And we have the honour of warming up for him, Gem Archer, Andy Bell and the other one (I'm being disingenuous here - it's Chris Sharrock on drums). Apparently Beady Eye's management are quite tight on what goes on before the band, and understandably so - you wouldn't want to play any Beatles or Rolling Stones for fear of hearing the same chords and melodies a few minutes later played live.
But we've got 30 minutes, with an anticipated audience of 4500 people, to show off our record collections. And considering I've been hoarding music ever since I bought Nevermind as my first CD (it's true! honest! My first tape was far less impressive - my excuse is I'm Scottish), that's not as easy as it sounds.
We've started pulling together a few ideas, and so far new bands like Sleigh Bells, M83, The Horrors are rubbing shoulders with lost indie classics like The Beta Band, Flaming Lips and The Delgados. And after that, hopefully I'll be lucky enough to meet Liam backstage and hopefully utter something more memorable than the nervous grunt I managed to throw Fatboy Slim's way. Get your tickets here
P.S. Big thanks to Adidas Originals for kitting us out for the night - we'll be standing proud in our three stripes.
Upon which point, I ingested my testicles, and breathlessly - and no doubt a few octaves higher than normal - replied back 'yes please, fankyouplease.'
And while I would rather share a pint with Noel Gallagher - the man is a raconteur, who has an opinion on most things, and normally an acerbic and witty one as this amazing press conference demonstrates - younger brother Liam is the quintessential frontman.
You know his flaws: his cat, sat, matt song writing, an inability to move out of top speed and taking Beatles fanboydom into plagiarism realms. But when it comes to balls out, rock and roll, the sort that turns you into a mindless indie hooligan and walk with a Manchester swagger, even though you've never been further North than Islington, no one can touch him.
And I mean no one. Who else could sell out venues across the world on the back of 1 album (and it's a patchy one in all honesty), and with a stone-cold, and entirely understandable (not to mention principled) refusal to play Oasis songs? Yes, it's Oasis minus Noel, but that's a huge, debilitating minus.
Which can only mean the thousands and thousands of fans have come to see Liam, hands held behind his back, neck crooned up into the microphone and pigeon-chest puffed out in all its Pretty Green glory.
And we have the honour of warming up for him, Gem Archer, Andy Bell and the other one (I'm being disingenuous here - it's Chris Sharrock on drums). Apparently Beady Eye's management are quite tight on what goes on before the band, and understandably so - you wouldn't want to play any Beatles or Rolling Stones for fear of hearing the same chords and melodies a few minutes later played live.
But we've got 30 minutes, with an anticipated audience of 4500 people, to show off our record collections. And considering I've been hoarding music ever since I bought Nevermind as my first CD (it's true! honest! My first tape was far less impressive - my excuse is I'm Scottish), that's not as easy as it sounds.
We've started pulling together a few ideas, and so far new bands like Sleigh Bells, M83, The Horrors are rubbing shoulders with lost indie classics like The Beta Band, Flaming Lips and The Delgados. And after that, hopefully I'll be lucky enough to meet Liam backstage and hopefully utter something more memorable than the nervous grunt I managed to throw Fatboy Slim's way. Get your tickets here
P.S. Big thanks to Adidas Originals for kitting us out for the night - we'll be standing proud in our three stripes.
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