Misadventures in vinyl

Misadventures in vinyl

http://www.theage.com.au/news/music/misadventures-in-vinyl/2005/11/03/1130823332273.html

By Clem Bastow
Dusk to dawn
November 4, 2005

Far from a world of glamour, a DJ's life can be filled with punter pain, especially when indie fans are involved.

THE life of a rock DJ swirls in a deep pool of misconceptions and hearsay. If you believed the hype, you'd think it was a heady world of snorting powdered bosoms off virgins made of cocaine (though I may have something mixed up here). But just a few annoying punters can quickly turn this world of supposed glamour into a world of pain.

Any DJ, regardless of their genre, will tell you that pesky requests are the name - and the bane - of the game. But there's something about rock/indie nights that seem to suck the whingers out of their holes like salt sucks the life from slugs. In my time spinning discs, I've found that metal and punk gigs bring the nicest fans (but more cigarette smoke), and although indie/pop gigs have cleaner air, fans are among the most bothersome.

At one indie gig, a dude insisted on requesting Black Flag, Sum 41 and, confusingly, Mylo, before announcing that it was "obvious" that I was a) a man and b) didn't know what I was doing. One wolfish local drummer made a point of whining, "Like, when are you going to play some rock'n'roll?" during a Kanye West-sponsored break from a four-hour set of AC/DC, Easybeats, Aerosmith, the Stones, the Nazz and KISS. Another blunt-fringed bird yelled, "Why aren't you playing any

You Am I?" midway through said band's Rumble.

Others are fond of leaving their drinks on the ledge above my record cases and, more worryingly, the large plugs powering the decks, lights and - most terrifying of all - the mirrorball. I now carry a bottle of eye drops and threaten to give splash-happy punters a cocktail to discuss with their drycleaners if they don't keep their drinks off my 12-inch remix of Mel & Kim's Respectable.

Dare to play an eclectic set and you're sure to cause ripples among those who like their dance tracks compartmentalised. Following Haitian disco group Tabou Combo's frenetic Voye Monte with Motorhead's Ace Of Spades always ruffles a few feathers among the indie bores.

Most modern dance-goers are conditioned to a free-ranging playlist, but there are some songs that - impressively - retain their power to bother people.

The Sex Pistols' Anarchy In the UK still sends most people to their seats in worried contemplation, as does Public Enemy's Fight The Power, and Benny Goodman's Sing, Sing, Sing frightens all but the most gallant pop-lockers (except, memorably, Tim Rogers, who danced a jig behind the bar while waving his fedora around).

Other tracks bring unexpected fans out of the woodwork: the notoriously "hard" Blag Dahlia and the Fresh Prince of Darkness of the Dwarves leapt up and down like schoolgirls when Keith Richards' Take It So Hard was spun. And one systems analyst-ish young man proposed marriage following Lee Dorsey's Who's Gonna Help Brother Get Further.

See, it's not all doom and gloom: some punters and some requests, can make your night.

One glam lass, apparently a stripper by trade, requested "her song" so she could practise her moves on the dance floor. The track in question? Thomas Dolby's She Blinded Me With Science.