Part and parcel of being a club DJ are the radio shows (be they pirate or other) that you may do if you can squeeze it into your life.Aspiring and existing DJ's who are also nine to five hamsters will know what I mean.Time management really comes into play, especially if you're in a relationship where your partner thinks all you do is have a laugh, chase skirt, smoke, snort, inhale (whatever your fancy) all to the music of your choosing.(I'll deal with that DJ & partner thing later on).
Brian and I had a regular radio show situated on the outskirts of Londinium.We started off on a Sunday from 2 - 4 PM and then would sometimes get shunted to a late Friday graveyard slot.Sometimes we'd just pre-record the show on Thursday afternoon, if we could both make it.Occasionally one of us would not be able to make it due to other commitments (see above) and the other would take up the helm and just get on with it.
I liked Brian, he was a funny fella and had more records than HMV Europe. I would always listen to his shows when he was running solo.Mainly because I knew that not only would I get a solid blend of funky house and some golden soul classics (rare groove to whoever), but more often than not, he would take the piss out of me.
Now, I've no truck with that , because I am probably one of the biggest piss-takers on the face of this gracious earth (or so I'm often told).Anyhoo, on one his shows he absolutely battered me with alot of things that I couldn't possibly repeat here...not because this is a family blog, but because I'm too embarrassed to repeat them (the bar steward..lol)
Fair play to him, he had his moment and earned it, but me being me..well, it's all about the payback, isn't it?
Put that belt on and I'll drive you to the revenge story.
We were booked to DJ on the radio station on the following Sunday...it was an absolutely beautiful day, the sun shone non-stop, my journey was pleasant and the girl coming out of the store was easy on the eye.The store was for stocking up on those DJ essentials, you know..such as beer, cigarettes, rizlas and maybe a pen for the phone requests(of course).On this particular day, I was a little early about 10 mins to 2.00PM show time and Brian was nowhere to be seen.(I promised last time that I would deal with the topic of time - keeping and i will, but not now)I kicked off the show with some Gene Page - To The Bone, as I recall.(That track would be our radio show theme tune in time).
The phone lines were open but fairly quiet. Time ticked on as I cued up Stevie Wonder's Too High on the deck.It was now 3.00pm and still no sign of Brian. I'd already made an excuse over the airwaves that Brian would not be turning up today.I had a bit of fun with that and asked listeners to ring in if they had any ideas where he might be.
Sandra called in first ''Mr Nice, I think I saw Brian getting his face waxed in a salon near me, ha-ha''
Ben rang next.
''Ed, yeah loving the show, I saw Brian looking for business down the High Street last night, could be he's picking up the money off the side table, mate''
''Ha-ha, nice one Ben, cheers Sandra, Have a great day. Please call in listeners if you see Brian on your travels, we miss him..haha''
On and on the banter went as the listeners called in, claiming to have spotted Brian.
This revenge was good but not quite adequate.
Little did I know what would transpire.
Remmy , the DJ usually on-air before us was getting ready to go home and asked if I knew where Brian actually was.
Right at that moment, the door flung open and Brian lurched in with record bag in one hand and a can of Red Stripe in the other.Remmy and I exchanged shocked looks, as Brian staggered in buried himself in the sofa with a belch and a sound very akin to that of Chi-Chi the panda letting off Saturday's dinner.
Remmy laughed, said his goodbyes and bounded out the door.
I cued up Lonnie Liston Smith's 'Expansions' on the deck, said a few brief words in regards to Brian's appearance (not his state) and turned to the man in question.
''What's the deal, fella..are you fit to play?''
''Yeah, yeah, I'm all good'' he replied in mid-belch.He mumbled something about it being a lovely day, going to a nice barbecue and totally forgetting about the show.
Judging by his state, it was a very very nice barbecue.
''Okay B, well the Lonnie's probably got a couple of minutes left, so you've got time to cue up something nice for the people''
Brian fought his way out of the chair and rummaged through his bag of vinyl.
I moved my bags from the console to give him room.
He moved one of the console chairs out of the way and started cueing up the very popular track 'Never Gonna Let You Go' by Tina Moore whilst reaching for the mic to say a few words to the listeners.
Somehow things don't always go according to plan, especially when alcohol is involved.
I could sense things were about to go pear-shaped for Brian and the revenge book balanced in my favour.
Brian managed to unhook the mic from the desk and switch the channels to 'on' as he released the dulcet tunes of Tina, simultaneously. Fine.The real problem he had was leaning back to sit in the console chair that he had previously moved out of the way.
It was as if time stood still.
Brian clawed thin air with one hand, still holding onto the switched on mic with the other as he crashed to the floor!''Never gonna let you go, cause you're my baby'' -BANG!
The needle screeched off the track and back onto the Instrumental version further on in the record only beaten by the speed of Brian's trip to the mat.
That was what the listeners heard, that and the groans and incoherent blubbering like a baby from Brian as he lay writhing on the floor, still clutching the mic like it was his one true love.
Laugh, I nearly pissed myself.This was all going out over the airwaves to the masses.
How unprofessional, how f***ing hilarious.
The moral of the story?
Sometimes fate takes a hand and whips up a better revenge dish than you ever could. Oh and not trying to dj three sheets to the wind helps too.
©2008
Dj Ed Nice
All the names have been changed to protect the completely guilty.
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