DJ for a Night

I wonder.
I wonder what it takes to be a DJ like Tiesto, Oakenfold, LTJ Bukem. I wonder what it takes to be a great DJ. I also wonder what it takes to just DJ.

British electro-soul band, Hot Chip's co-front man, Al Doyle rolled into town last night. Tickets were priced at a hefty $35. Raised eyebrows across the dancefloor for most who had actually turned up to tune into his frequency, most who had probably never even heard of him before. Even to dance to Van Dyke at Zouk, one only had to fork out club admission ($25@Velvet because I am female, and for once I will only "whisper" discrimination)

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The scene was mixed.
The young fashion set well represented in their shiny leotards and quirky vintage bags. The lifestyle writers streamed in, guestlist late with their respective creative director partners, black rimmed glasses in check. The lifestyles of the rich and the expat- brat crowd scattered school canteen style, quick to scrutinize everyone that strolled in after. And of course, there were the party-seeking backpacking tourists, adidas ready and beer hungry.

Pre Doyle, were an onslaught of local DJs, including, a female fashion designer slash rumoured part club owner. Pre Doyle, was an empty dancefloor, the crowd prefering to oil up to each other admist the starlit al fresco adjacent. There was wide screen soccer and waif sweet-young-things, conducting customer surveys on brands, presumably fashion ones.

But the men stopped kissing the men, once a well dressed Doyle took to the turntables. He came in a sportsjacket but soon relegated that fashion statement. He started worldly and ambient, but after the initial hype, the crowd grew lukewarm. A tease on his part? Doyle soon took a raunchy bass heavy electro turn, leaving his audience to revel in his fabulous build-up.

Sexy, soulful, synthetic beats radiated from the speakers. But the crowd was restless and maybe a little too distracted by social signals. Doyle was on point when it came to capturing their attention but less genius at holding it. Soon the DJ was switching from progressive drum and bass to psychedelic Mila Kunis back to raunchy soulful electro all in 3 whole heartbeats, maybe trying a little too hard.

It was a rollercoaster of alcoholic dreams.

Did Doyle play to his audience? Or was good ol Al just here to play the set he worked on a week ago, and really, we were just his obedient dancers?

They say that when Tiesto raises his arms during a set, you wish to bow, because, he is like GOD.

The power of music. A melting pot of sounds, feelings, dreams, emotions. Interconnected and intricately complex. What happens when the DJ takes the helm of a journey through sound. Must every slice of his rhythmic understanding connect with his audience? Or is it the other way around? Does the audience seek the dictation of their DJ? Which maybe isn't such a bad notion, since sometimes all we really want to do IS TO FEEL IT.

This has to be one of my top10 videos:


The power of the music listener. The irony of playing to a select crowd is while the intent sways towards focused appreciation, an inevitability of community culture, is social affection. Being concerned about so and so watching you dance must detract from the ultimate mental and physical enjoyment of the music. When faced with a crowd on edge, is the DJ sensitive to such energy patterns? Or is the DJ setting these energy patterns?

I suppose anyone can claim themselves as Disc Jockeys. Just throw down a few tracks from the ipod at a party or launch a podcast and give yourself a catchy online stage name.
But the good DJs? The ones whose names tweak your butterflies, the ones you actually want to pay to see live....what sets them apart?

I wonder.