2005-07-07 - 2:11 a.m.
What I'm listening to: Walk on By-Isaac Hayes.
Just came back from the club. I did like the darkness, the elevated volume, the lights on the mixer. But the experience has left me feeling...empty.
Not sure why that is. I did 'feel it', I was in the groove, but I didn't enjoy it as much as when I do house parties. I did like the large space, as I wasn't looking for the intimacy of a house party.
But it felt like work, even though I was spinning free of charge for charity. I wasn't really listening to the music, but waiting for the song to end to mix in the next one.
My relationship to St. Laurent St. was totally different this time. I felt like a night worker, somebody who lives a clandestine existence in the booths of the night. I walked up to the club with my MEC briefcase, overflowing with vinyl, cds and my oh so big headphones, turntable cartridge in hand. I showed up, spun, then didn't feel like staying around the club so I left. I walked down the street, not really soaking in the ambiance of St. Laurent at 1am, but was mostly staring at the sidewalk, occasionally into an open late cheap eatery with my own empty throughts.
It felt like I was at home, on my way home from work. I went, did my time, and came away. I spun mostly disco, and I was pretty pleased with the transisitions. The coolest thing was that the club was set up with...Tech 12s, the Rolls Royce of DJ turtables. I've only used these in record stores, but never live. My god, now I know why they're the best. The takeup is so fast, so accurate, and it's so nice to have a neutral setting and pitch control that actually work.
There was also a beat per minute meter on the cd player, and countdown as default display. A series of lights showed you if the beats were in line, and when was a good time to cue the next cut. A handy learning device for an amateur, but I still loved to touch and feel the records.
I imagined what it must be like to have no BPM scale, and have to beat mix two records on feel and sound alone. That feeling must be sheer ecstasy, a rush, and no doubt difficult to master. The purist in me lives on, fetishizing process of the past as somehow superior, or requiring more skill. I wonder if there's a connection here to the Jungian archetype of the wise old man?
I've always liked this song, and Isaac Hayes' vocals. You can hear the longing, pain and lonliness in his voice.
