It's 6pm on a warm Summer's day in July and Halle and Salma are giving me a back massage from the heavens themselves. After a thorough rub down, they proceed to feed me a light Caesar salad served with the finest Chianti.
Nothing heavy, there's a long night ahead before the limousine picks me up for the fourth date of my sell-out dj tour.
I mean, they've already picked out the colours of my M&M's that aren't to my taste.
The stylists picks out my favourite dark brown Oswald Boateng suit, dandy Boss scarf and some Sweeney zip-ups for my feet.
I like to be a bit dapper when I head to a gig, as i can always get changed before I go on.
That's what I pay Vida and Leonora for, you know to make sure my gig wear is on point.
One look in the mirror tells me I'm a bad muthafu... (shut your mouth) like Shaft.
Larry brings the limo to the front of the pile, Halle and Salma get in first and make room for me in the middle.
I lean back, close my ears and gently nod off to the dulcet tones of 'You Don't Know My Name' by Alicia Keys, only to be woken by the screeching wails of the girlfriend, all in the wrong key..''If you don't get your arse in gear, you're going to be late, dreamer''
I fall from the couch and in one swift SAS move, I bound up the stairs and head for the showers..this one will need to be cold.
Many dj's do live the dream I was having (if a little..ahem, exaggerated) but the reality for many other dj's is somewhat harsher.
Most dj's will go all out to prepare for their gig, days if not weeks in advance, especially if they don't have a weekly slot and don't know when the next gig will rear its head.
They take great pride in their work knowing full well that they live and die by their experience and ability to entertain the crowd.
From sourcing great music, handing out fliers (freezing your baps off in Leicester Square is no picnic), schmoozing folk (with next to nothing in your pockets apart from holes) and whatever else that maybe required, it is a thankless task...unless the night goes according to plan.
By going 'according to plan' I mean, the place is busy, all the ladies are waving their tats at you(sorry, just slipped back into the dream sequence), the mixing is seamless (remember when dj's used to mix records - I will deal with this another time), people are enjoying what you do and more importantly enjoying themselves.
Now, can someone tell me why the f***k do some promoters/owners/twats/bar managers (insert tool where applicable) seem to do all they can to scupper your evening?
What is that all about?
Surely, it's beneficial to all if a good night is had by all, especially the customers.
Not to some of the rats I've had the misfortune to break cheese with.
I'll give you a couple of examples.
A few years ago, I was promoting a night as part of a team. I mean in the early days we were a force to be reckoned with. On our game and we knew what the crowd loved.
We decided to book a very prominent 2 floor venue back then and we were all looking forward to the night.
We'd done all the press work(papers and flesh), the fliers were beautiful, the word was on the street and if I recall it well, it was a Bank Holiday.
Anyway, we were all geared up for the night and being the professionals we were, we turned up at the venue early, just to run through a few things with the owner who had taken our deposit for the booking.
It's a good job we did.
Why? Well Mr Owner decided this was a good time to piss off on holiday and double book us with another team of dj's unbeknown to any of us.
Okay, so there was 6 of us and we all normally dj'd when we put on nights (depending on the size of the venue) and in roll the Sweetcorn Posse or whatever they were called, threatening to bring down Galactacus(I didn't get his name) and his 'Shoot Dem' army if they didn't get their way.
Fair enough, the owner's obviously stitched up both parties for a nice little get away to Mustique or wherever the f***k he disappeared to.
He would be back and so would we.
Now being the negotiator that I was, I managed to calm the situation down when all the talk was getting a little medieval and Tony Montana-ish(Pulp Fiction & Scarface are just films, people)
I reminded everyone that we all had people coming down so each group should take one floor each and make the best of it.
We eventually managed to salvage something out of what could have been disastrous.
Example 2
This one was one of nights where I was flying solo and promoting my own thing.
Everything was done, my end.
Meticulously planned it was (or so i thought) music (I had four record bags of sheer quality) fliers, press, guest list, word of mouth, the lot.
Anyhoo, to cut a big piece of meat in half, I arrive at the venue early as I would normally.
I'll tell you this and at some stage I'll probably repeat it...there's no price you can put on turning up early, trust me on this!
The guy who I did all the booking business with is not there (surprise, surprise), but the bar manager is.
I'll call him Phil.
Now, Phil was okay and very helpful and in the midst of what was going on, he deserved a Sainthood.
I start to carry my bags round to the dj booth (where are Halle & Salma with my M&M's..lol) which has now been changed since the last meeting a few days ago.
Phil opens up with ''You're early, most dj's tend to swan in rather late''
''I like to get in early, you never know what you might...''
I happened to be looking at the turntables and was momentarily stuck for words (those that know me will know that this is an often rare occasion).
The scenario...the turntables looked like they had been salvaged from war torn Basra and as for the mixer, the faders were actually missing, the indicators had long retired and ohh back to the turntables..no needles!
The dirt and grime encased around the unit would have had even Kim & Agee booking the quickest cab out of there.
'You see Phil, this is why I normally turn up early, because whilst I'm quite capable of f***ing up my day, I know there's always someone else willing to have a go too!''
''Ohhh yes, the decks..mmmm..errr...did Mike not tell you about those?''
''No, he didn't, mate''
''Yeah, we took the other ones out for another set up and we haven't got them back yet''
''No shit, are they actually coming back at all?''
''Yeah don't know when though, errr..okay, do you have any needles?'' he asked.
I always carried spares so that was covered.
This was going to be a case of damage limitation, if I could breathe life into Johnny No 5...sorry the sad excuse for a mixer.
After the total re haul, I then went to plug in the decks only to find the plugs missing.
Houston, we're about to lift off!!!
How I kept a lid on it only Cape Canaveral knows.
Absolutely amazing, a renowned venue masquerading as a shit-hole or whatever.
Phil shows me to the kitchen in the quest for plugs..I kid you not.
The sandwich toaster and kettle didn't know what hit 'em!
I ask Phil if they actually, really, truly served food here.
''Yes, but I don't eat it''
''You don't say?'', I retort.
And that kitchen..jeez! Even the rats wore safety boots to get around.
One hour later, the 'grime unit' is working (some of you youngsters have probably started calling yourselves that now..never mind), I'm covered in what smells like Morley's chicken with a sell -by date of 2001 and Phil's telling me it should be a good night.
Yep it most certainly will be especially if you're a stay away promoter/owner/twat/bar manager(not you, Phil) or a rat with comfortable safety boots.
©2008
Dj Ed Nice
All names have been camouflaged to protect the shameless.
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