May 14, 2010

I cannot remember who I was speaking about my blog to this week. God, I have no memory. I cannot for the life of me remember. Shit.

I just remembered! It was Phil Putnam, the singer-songwriter. He and I took a lunch and chatted and I talked about my dedication to this space. I write infrequently here, as I am consumed with other gigs, most notably fabulis, which takes up most of my days and nights. But I am managing to get this little essay in while I sip Zinfandel and eat grapes. Friday night, 11PM, and I am blogging. I don't know if I should be considered an artist dedicated to his trade? Or just really bored? Probably a little of both.

Last night I DJed. I love saying that, you know, that I DJ. I love DJ culture. I love the elevation of someone who takes musician's art (records) and layers them together to create something different. I love the Wizard of Oz-esque intrigue of the DJ. They don't really speak like a singer would. They don't particularly move around like a dancer would. They stand in a box, perched above an audience, and they fiddle with knobs and buttons and make something from nothing. Many could write it off as something anyone could do. Many, myself included, see the artistry.

So it is funny that I say I have DJed. I have a sick fascination with music and especially electronic music and I know the history of new wave, techno-pop, disco, house, and techno. So I have the smarts to put together a compelling list of tracks. But I miss the technical side. That is why when I DJ, Bryan Raughton's always my partner. He does the work. I pose better than him. That's about all. I met Bryan over ten years ago. At Twilo I think. And he and I both had blogs back then. You know, before anyone else did. Most of those early bloggers I befriended I don't have a current day connection to. Facebook keeps me in the loop with Jonno and Frank Green, and I remain friends with bloggers who came after, like Andy Towle and David Hauslaib, but I am not friends with any of those original bloggers outside of an internet chat here and there. All except for Bryan.

So Bryan and I spun a few hours last night in Brooklyn. The party was co-sponsored by fabulis and the turn out was disappointing. We had fun though. We set our laptops up on a piano on stage. A slide show displayed images I created from fabulis. And we channeled the Pet Shop Boys. Pretending we were doing more than we actually were. He matching beats and me singing into a live microphone over the records. It was fun even if a sprinkling of friends were in attendance.

Georgi and Richard Pulik arrived as we finished (we were the opening DJs) and I quickly hopped in a car with them and headed back to Manhattan. We stopped in The Park to catch up with one of those DJs I love, Joe D'Espinosa, who was waiting for us with Patrick Menasco. The place was packed. The boys were out. Everyone who works out at our gym was in attendance. The plastics held court with bottle service. The young kids drunkenly danced. And in spectacles and Prada I felt more out of place than Georgi and Richard in their banking suits. Everyone was having fun. I said hello to many a friend. As we left we walked by the DJ booth. No one seemed to care. He could have played anything, really. And I lamented the loss of DJ culture. The boys today seem more concerned with a hit parade than with a journey.

And though I cannot match a beat I do respect the evolution of electronic music. Which means I am more of a DJ than some auto play Gaga/Beyonce mash-up.

Manhattan gays are hard to get to Brooklyn. Pretty boys care more about each other than music these days. And the DJ as an artist is a dying breed.

Lessons learned this week.