Cold drinks, delicious people, dancing until you’re numb and great music is all what the weekend is all about.
However, no one ever gives a thought about the crap the DJ playing the music had to endure just to perform.
I can’t count how many times I’ve been 15 minutes into a practice set before work when a neighbor pounds on the wall or a phone call rings from the landlord.
The argument of most complaining neighbors is, “Some people gotta work!”
To which I politely respond, “That’s what I’m doing.”
But if the question is due to scheduling (their work schedule conflicting with the times I need to practice), then maybe it would do us (any performer who practices at home) better to just live in communes, or at least apartment buildings specifically for performer-people.
So now we have: Djs should live isolated from other people except for Thursday through Saturday nights, where we will be free to roam the night and gorge on the sweat and excess perfume of the innocent dance-floor-goer.
So, these DJ apartment complexes will be divided at least three ways: one portion for old-school DJs, like yours truly (who don’t understand their computer and wouldn’t touch an Ableton setup with a 10-foot pole); one for electronica artists who use an endless combination of loops and sound effects to still sound like everyone else and a third section for acoustic guitarists, symphonic prudes and over-sexed, fire-spinning Hippie chicks who will show you their boobs for free, but don’t believe in dating or talking to you about anything but raw-foodism.
Now, who wants to help me fund raise for the city to build us about 17 of these apartment complexes along Ocean Boulevard?
You get to party and check out the hotties. DJs get to avoid angry crazy people and play great music for you guys, too.