dogpossum

Since I started DJing (way back there in February – CRAP, how time flys!), I’ve noticed that my hearing has kind of gone downhill. This upsets me, because I previously had amazing hearing – really the aural equivalent to 20-20 vision. But not so much any more.
I’m considering getting some proper ear plugs. But they cost a lot.
It’s a bit of a dilemma…

I think it’s worth me running through DJing at the Blues night last Sunday, seeing as how I took the trouble to blog about it.
Much of this I’ve copied from my post on Swing Talk, so feel free to skim-read/skip. But I have added some additional comments, so you might just miss out if you do.
To start with, here’s my set list (Sunday 4th June 2006, first set (9.30-10.30pm)).

 

 

 

Name	Artist	Album	Year	BPM
Willow Weep For Me	Louis Armstrong	Ella And Louis Again [MFSL]	1957	90
My Handy Man Ain’t Handy No More	Alberta Hunter	Amtrak Blues	1978	76
Reckless Blues	Velma Middleton with Louis Armstrong and the All Stars	The Complete Decca Studio Recordings of Louis Armstrong and the All Stars (disc 06)		89
I Ain No Iceman	Cow Cow Davenport	History of the Blues – disc2		89
Save It, Pretty Mama	Sidney Bechet	The Blue Note Years	1945	91
I Left My Baby	Kansas City Band	Kansas City: A Robert Altman Film	1995	83
Stormy Blues	Billie Holiday	The Complete Verve Studio Master Takes (disc 2)	2005	62
I Want A Little Sugar In My Bowl –	Nina Simone	Nina Simone Sings the Blues	2006	66
I Never Loved A Man	Aretha Franklin	Greatest Hits – Disc 1		90
Please Please Please	James Brown	Sex Machine	1991	74
Amtrak Blues	Alberta Hunter	Amtrak Blues	1978	95
Back Water Blues	Dinah Washington with Belford Hendricks’ Orchestra	Ultimate Dinah Washington	1957	71
Baby, Get Lost	Billie Holiday	The Lady Of The Blues		70
Rocks In My Bed	Ella Fitzgerald	Ella Fitzgerald Day Dream: Best Of The Duke Ellington Songbook	1956	68
Hamp’s Salty Blues	Lionel Hampton and His Quartet	Lionel Hampton Story 3: Hey! Ba-Ba-Re-Bop	1946	86
Long John Blues	Dinah Washington	22 Original Classics		96

There are some incomplete details there – missing dates etc. This is partly the result of slack cataloguing on my part, a complete disinterest in cataloguing on The Squeeze’s part (he’s responsible for the Aretha and JB stuff) and general all-round pftness.
This was my first time DJing to a blues crowd at anything other than a party. It was a bit weird, for a few reasons:

• technical issues. there are always technical issues. but there were only two pissy speakers, no bass to speak of and a very crowded room. so i had to really fiddle with the knobs. mostly to no effect. but this screwed with some of my song choices. i learnt a lot about playing under these conditions.
• it’s really dark. so you can’t see what people are doing. this makes it tricky to judge the mood of the crowd.
• blues dancing is kind of samey. so you can’t really judge the mood or energy levels of the room by what people are doing on the dance floor
• i felt like they would have danced to anything – this isn’t like playing for experienced dancers or picky lindy hoppers.

Lessons:
Blues dancing has a different wave than lindy. You work in longer sessions and with longer-term goals. I found I rely on tempo to change the mood in a room when I DJ for lindy, but this wouldn’t work with blues. I found I could play any old tempo, really, so long as I was very careful with mood. I found I was DJing according to mood and musical style rather than tempo. This could have been a major mistake, and I need some feedback from dancers to see how this worked out. I could be full of crap on that part. But the floor is always full at blues, so you can’t use that as a gauge.
Song choices:

• The Kansas City song I Left My Baby, while it sounds great on my home stereo, at CBD and at funpit, kind of sucked on this system. It just ended up sounding like a slurry of sound with no depth or variation. If you know those albums, though, they’re a good indication of the mood of the room tonight: like a loud, raucous bar with people laughing and talking and having a good time.
  It got quieter when I played mellower music, but seeing as how I mostly played dirty nanna blues, the mood stayed pretty dirty nanna – loud, boisterous, rowdy, laughing fun. Which is what I want from a blues night.
• I was heavy on the vocals, mostly because the instrumental stuff just sounded rank on the sound system. And I guess that was kind of an archetypal beginner DJ set – heavy on the vocals. But I was also going for high-energy, sassy but kind of tongue in cheek sauciness.
• That last Dinah Washington song was an emergency song as Josh and I were playing the DJing equivalent of doctors and nurses, trying to figure out what went in which hole. In retrospect, Long John is kind of not appropriate for a noob blues crowd, as it’s really quite explicit.
  It is, however, one of my favourite songs.
• Back Water Blues is my most favourite song ever. EVER. I love it so much – that’s blues dancing music to me. Saucy, kind of miserable, but really relishing the misery, not getting maudlin, but really stomping the blues with some sauce.
  I love Dinah Washington to bits. More than any other woman blues singer. I like the way she sings about sex and men and violence with a sense of humour and couldn’t give a shit about what people think.
• Note the Aretha Franklin and James Brown. Perfect rhythm n blues moment that went down a treat with the crowd. A bit too serious for my liking, but a nice contrast to the rest of the stuff. It was nice to play ‘unswing’ as well, as it really worked for blues dancing, but was totally wrong for lindy hop.
• During James Brown I had a request for Tom Waits, and I was sorely tempted as I’ve been digging Heartattack and Vine (thanks to a tip from Russell), but I wanted to bring the energy up, and that song is really hardcore and dirty.
  I really like playing ‘unswing’ for blues dancers, but sticking with the ‘vibe’ of blues music. I wouldn’t do this for lindy though, as it feels wrong. But it feels just right to have Aretha singing about dirty low down men or James begging his woman while you’re camping it in blues dancing. I’d have liked to follow up with ‘Root Man Blues’ by Buddy Johnson, from ‘Walk ‘Em’, but it was too strident and brassy for the sound system. But it would have been perfect, with it’s 50s sound and kind of queer lyrics. Really would have set off James’ dramatics perfectly.
• The old scratchies went down a treat, not that I played many. But I was pleased when people appreciated the sauciness and humour of Cow Cow Davenport.
• This blues dancing crowd is much more tolerant and interested in a wider range of music than the lindy hoppers I usually DJ for. Blessed be.

There was no after party that night, which is a shame, as that’s a chance for people to get all serious with their blues dancing. And I would have liked a chance to really try DJing hardcore for a crowd of blues dancers. But I had a nice time otherwise. Only danced for half an hour (or even less), but I really like Vibe as a venue – high ceilings, bar, wooden floor, olden dayes feeling. And I really like the mood of the blues nights.
…why do I keep typing bleus?

And so I return to the issue of how a DJ should regard their role, prompted in part by this discussion on SwingDJs.
Before I start in, I suggest you take a peak at that thread, not only for the content, but to see how posters use photos and their real names on this discussion board. That’s kind of unusual for discussion boards, though less so for swing dancers, who ultimately realise that being ‘honest’ or not using aliases online is relevent to a community which is ultimately embodied. Membership of this community is also heavily dependent on reputation and regard for etiquette (both online and embodied).
This is stuff that I write about in my thesis in great detail – the uses of online media by an embodied community, and the ways this online participation is informed by embodied practice and relationships.
But to be on-topic, and address the issue of DJs and their role…
Firstly, I should point out (again, in thesis mode) that I’m fascinated by the tension between ‘communitas’ or community responsibility and the DJ as ‘artist’. The two positions often seem at odds, though they are occasionally combined in the notion that a DJ should be in some way an educator (a role of great status in a such a pedagogically centred community), ‘exposing’ dancers to new and ‘historically accurate’ music.
As you might expect, these sorts of arguments are tied up with conflicting notions of aesthetics or cultural ‘appropriateness’, the relationships between music and dance, the power and status of a DJ in a particular local community, the way these DJs participating in a globalised community of interest (SwingDJs itself) bring concepts of ‘DJ’ and ‘DJing’ to their local discourses, etc etc etc. It’s all very complicated and interesting, which is why I wrote a chapter on it. But more on that later. Let’s look at the specific arguments raised on SwingDJs.
Here’s an interesting comment from one of the posters in that thread:

As a DJ, isn’t our responsibility to the dancers, not to an aesthetic about artistic expressively? In my role as an event producer -or as a DJ for an hour- I am indeed being trusted to “choose for everyone”. … I’m not saying that I’m even 1% of the artist whose music I’m playing, but I am the one who gets to decide what song, when it’s played and in some cases, how it’s played. My job is to watch the room and please the dancers …

(Greg Avakian Posted: Fri May 26, 2006 07:51)
And in response:

…As a DJ, isn’t our responsibility to the dancers…
…My job is to watch the room and please the dancers…

This is pretty much my approach, at least to the extent I’m running the event. I consider it a specific kind of party, rather than just a time for swing dancing. I work very hard to play music that people enjoy, and to play it in a way that helps them achieve an emotional- and social freedom that encourages them to dance. That’s my focus. To that end, I sometimes edit songs, or change the pitch/tempo, and I do it with the dancers – not the musicians – in mind.

(Matthew, quoting Greg Avakian, Posted: Fri May 26, 2006 15:16)
These discussions fascinate me. We have much the same talk going on on Swing Talk, the Australian discussion board, but on SwingTalk the participants are DJs and dancers, rather than DJs (who are also dancers), as on SwingDJs. The discussion on SwingDJs is also informed by a wider national swing dance discourse which is older, more complex, and far more sercurely focussed on social dancing than in Australia, particularly Melbourne. Here, we are continually working to ‘convince’ people that social dancing is essential to ‘good dancing’ and far more important than classes or competitions, let alone that DJing is actually a fairly demanding craft, requiring specific skills and resources.
…I should note here that I’m well aware of the fact that the latter argument is in fact self-serving, as well as contributing to the development of heirarchies of knowledge and cultural practice (very much as Matt Hills describes heirarchies of knowledge in fan communities…). And this of course begs the question, do DJs have delusions of grandeur?
Matthew’s point that he considers a DJed dance as a ‘special kind of party’ rather than ‘just a time for swing dancing’ echoes this.
Sooooo…..
How does all this fit in with how I regard my own role as a DJ in that community, and as a dancer?
I’d like to address that second point, as I’m fascinated by the way my attitude to dancing has changed since I started DJing, but I doubt I’ll have time for it here.
So how do I regard my role as a DJ in this community, considering the fact that I’m also reading criticallly, as a feminist with decidely Red interests?
Status and power
First, I’m well aware of the way being a DJ accrues status. It’s not a financially driven status (though I appreciate the $30/$25 deals, they’re certainly not enough to live on…though it does fund my yoga and (comparatively) modest cd purchasing). But it is certainly a social status which is quite interesting.
In Melbourne, status in the swing dance scene is largely determined by one’s standing within the largest dance school (things used to be different, but this school now dominates all embodied dance and online discourse, so…). If one is the school’s principal, one has highest status. Then come visiting teachers. Then come local teachers, then teaching cadets. Within the general body of the school (ie not within the rarified circles of teachers), being a member of the elite troop is the next level of cred, followed by being a member of the lower level troop. Now, if one does not have institutional affiliation, one’s staus is kind of amorphous. Because the school does not teach or endorse alternative dance styles (why promote another company’s product?), many students simply don’t recognise other lindy styles as lindy. Which is ironic, considering the oldest old school styles are in this ‘unrecognisable’ basket.
So if you want some status, outside this formal heirarchy, but through your dance ability, you have to be able to contribute to this embodied discourse in the appropriate ‘language’ (and now I’m thinking of Nancy Fraser and women’s participation in the ‘official’ public sphere). In other words you gotta dance ‘right’.
DJing, status and power
So where does DJing fit into all this? There are other roles which accrue status – being an MLX organiser is one (though probably not the way I do it – I need to cultivate an air of inaccessability, as per the school’s relativley inaccessible heirarhcy. Not sweat all over people, demanding a dance and throwing myself down stairs). But DJing is another.
Why? Well, for a start, and perhaps most imporantly, you’re ‘in’ with those who organise the events – teachers. So you got institutional affiliation. Secondly, you got distance – you’re up there on the DJ podium and relatively physically inacessible, but certainly socially distant (you’re literally not on the same level as the dancers).
Beyond that, you certainly gain status if you’re a ‘good’ DJ. Being a good DJ, however, is a matter of opinion and observance of fashion. Again, you have to speak the right ‘language’. One of the most fascinating things about learning to DJ has been figuring out how to affect linguistic drift on the local musical accent. In other words, convincing dancers that music other than hi-fi, groovey, funky late era jazz and soul is actually ‘good’ for dancing.
The most effective way of achieving this is to sneak alternative music song types into my play lists. Paving the way with hi-fi but ‘classic sounding’ recordings of new bands (thankyou Lincoln Centre Jazz Orchestra, Kansas City Band, late Count Basie and Mora’s Modern Rhythmists), you can prepare a crowd of dancers for earlier (and in my opinion, frequently superior) versions of these now-familiar songs.
Why DJ at all?
Can you hear the whole ‘educating dancers’ theme in there? I know I can. And it makes me uncomfortable. So why do it?

• I like the music
• I want more people to play that stuff so I can dance to it, so I need to contribute to a market demand for it (hey, go capitalism, go)
• I really do feel that lindy hop works ‘betterer’ with this stuff from the 30s and 40s which prompted its development in the first place
• there’s some bloody amazing stuff in those older recordings which people do like. Once they give it a go
• diversity = good

So how do my goals as a DJ work in with the whole DJ status thing?

• I gotta get the dancers recognising ‘my’ music as ‘good’ if I want to be able to play it. If they don’t like it, they won’t dance. If no one dances, I don’t get gigs
• If I have a reputation as a ‘good’ DJ, then people are more likely to accept my choices in music

All this, as I’ve said, makes me uncomfortable. I do, really, want to make the dancers happy.
It’s like a drug – a room full of dancers totally going nuts on endorphines and adrenaline – you breathe it in from the DJ stand. And while it SUCKS to have have to stand there and watch, rather getting in amongst it, it’s still wonderful. I always have a moment of ‘I guess this is what it’s like to be in a cult’ when I’m DJing well and the room is really pumping. Talk about group emotional experiences and so on. There’s no more powerful a drug than a room full of people all feeling the same thing at the same time. And music is a wonderful tool for achieving that state.
So when I do a good job as a DJ, I not only get off on the vibe, but I also really enjoy seeing people having a great time.
How do I balance this ‘me’ stuff with my feminist politics… or how does a feminist swing dance DJ do ‘communitas’ in this environment?
Argh. That’s hard. But there are things that I try to do:

• encourage women DJs or women interested in DJing. Heck, encourage anyone interested in DJing
• share. Share knowledge, share resources, share networks. I don’t share copies of music, but I certainly share names of artists and songs. Not only because I’m a born tutor, but also because I want to share the love. And what could be wrong with hundreds of other people loving Benny Goodman as much as I do? And there’s certainly nothing wrong with giving names to other DJs so that they can thenplay the songs so I can dance to them!!. What a total score!
• question inequity in the DJing culture. Not that there’s much I can do about it – it’s naturally an exclusive space (what with the money, technological and time resources it demands) – but I can try. And I can think about ways to improve things
• be accessible to dancers I don’t know or who feel intimidated when I’m DJing. Be receptive to feedback, requests and comments. Juggling this with the demands of actually DJing on the night can be hard, but… It feels the same as seeking out new dancers to dance with, or always saying yes to new dancers who ask me. If you give now, you get. It’s a win-win situation, and you’re contibuting to a more inclusive, friendly, healthy community. Perhaps undoing some of that heirarchy bullshit
• encourage people asking about song names to buy the whole album

This last point is becoming more and more important to me. Because it’s so easy to download songs (though I challenge most people to find half – or even a tenth – of the music we play on torrents or other illegal sources), people tend not to look for the whole album to buy. This sucks because:

• you’re fucking over a whole bunch of artists and technicians in the music industry. Even if an artist is dead, their family isn’t. And the American jazz industry has a long, long, long history of fucking over black artists. Don’t be a part of that.
• you’re not learning. When you buy a whole album, you’re learning about an artist and band and period in history that helps you understand who that one song fits in. It helps you find new songs. And because of the cross-pollitationy nature of jazz in the 30s and 40s, you’ll find new artists you love. And you’ll learn new stuff about the relationship between music and dance in that historical moment, your dancing will improve, and your DJing will improve!
• I had to buy it, and I’m poor. So why should I subsidise your music collection? I’m giving the song to you free when I DJ.
• when you download or copy or ‘steal’ a song from my collection, you’re screwing me over. Particularly when you DJ it at a gig later or (even worse), then trade it with your mates or sell it to your mates or students! Bad, naughty, wrong!
• you can’t be a good DJ if you don’t love the music. If you love an artist or band or song, you seek out more of it. I believe that the best DJs are those with a passion for their music, and a thorough knowledge of an artist’s career, or a style or genre. And what could be wrong with learning shit?

I know that a lot of these arguments also justify not sharing playlists or song titles or artists. I imagine that as I get more experience and develop a larger (and more esoteric) collection, I may become more reluctant to share knowledge. But it’ll be interesting to see…
DJing as art
And while I feel uncomfortable with the idea of a DJ as art (is this some sort of Australian tall poppy cultural cringe hangover from high school thing – should I be over feeling self conscious about wanting to be artistic and creative in a public context?), sometimes it feels like art. Or at least creativity. It feels like the natural partner to dancing. As a dancer, you feel the way the music affects mood in the room. The longer you’ve been dancing, the greater your dancing stamina, the more you learn about musical structures, the more susceptible to this you, and also the more aware of it you are. But as a DJ, as I’ve said elsewhere, you have to step outside a little, to understand with your conscious brain, how it all works.
Ironically, the incontrovertible rule is that you cannot be a decent DJ if you are not also a dancer. And you cannot, possibly, ever, do a decent DJing job if you don’t also have ‘one foot on the dance floor’, keeping an eye (and your emotions?) on the mood of the dancers.
I also wonder if you can be a half-decent DJ if you don’t have empathy going on. I’m beginning to wonder if being a good DJ is like being a good dancer – you gotta have good social skills. You’ve gotta be a good observer, to be know how to make people feel good about themselves, and to find pleasure in making people happy.
SO,
Can you be a crap person and a good DJ?
Or is that just another example of DJ hubris – implying that all (good) DJs are good people?