Most people will be lucky if they get a gig at The Dog And Bucket in Deptford, playing to three old pissheads and a greyhound. During which they'll have to listen to some fat girl with bad breath ask for ‘It's Raining Men' a dozen times, and have drunken queens scream at them for Kylie or spill their drinks on the decks. The landlord will only give them one free drink, and they'll have to piss in a glass behind the booth because the toilets are too far away to do a dash mid-track. Nice work if you can get it!
Oh, it's only her going on again, you may think - she's just bitter because she's so shit. Well, if being ‘shit' gets you plenty of work, I must have had the farmyard muck spreader aimed at me. I've done every sort of gig you can imagine over the years - fashion parties, sex clubs, huge arenas, tiny pubs, drag bars, cruise ships, Heaven, G-A-Y, The Fridge, Pushca... My observations may be ‘bitter', but most people in the business will agree with some of them, even if it is grudgingly!
While we're on the point of ‘bitterness', it's worth mentioning that the job's pretty cut-throat. Because gigs are thin on the ground, competition's fierce. There's always someone prettier and more talented just around the corner waiting to get in your box, so to speak. In my case, into my shoes as well. I was recently asked by a well-known drag queen to teach her how to DJ (I need some help myself, love). Not while I have a mortgage to pay!
Of course, then there are the customers who make your life hell. The type I hate the most are the ‘wannabes'. They think nothing of asking for ‘a go' halfway through your set. They seem to think it's acceptable. Would I go into a bank and ask the cashier for ‘a go' behind the till, or ask my doctor if I could ‘have a go' at examining the old lady's bottom who's in after me? Of course not. It's either that or ‘well, can I have a look in your box and choose some tunes?' This makes me want to get violent. My records are my records, and no-one touches them but me. It's like asking to rummage through someone else's handbag, and also insinuating that your own capabilities are lacking. Then there are the repeated requesters, asking ‘Can I have so-and-so on?' over and over again. Then, if you play it, they ask for it again ten minutes later. Or of course there are the people who ask for something that's totally not in keeping with the music policy of the night. I can't remember how many times at the pop clubs I mainly play in that I've been asked for hard house or trance records. Then, when I explain that I play commercial pop and dance, they get huffy and turn their noses up. It would be like asking for porn on Blue Peter.
However, if this all sounds too negative, let me assure you that I do love my work. I'm aware that I'm in an enviable position. I've been doing it for donkey's years, and am known as much for being me as for what I play. I've found a niche, and I defend it vigorously. It's been kind to me in many ways. This year, when I was voted Boyz Readers' DJ Of The Year, I couldn't believe it. It was like verification that I do actually provide people with an entertaining service.
There's no doubt as well that if you can get in with the in crowd, and get a few decent gigs, then the money's good. It's really important (I think) to keep the taxman happy though. Most DJ work is cash in hand, so it's tempting to think ‘no-one will know', and keep the taxman's 23% for yourself. A word of advice though. There's always some nasty old queen out there who's saving the flyers, and you only have to get on her nerves and she'll send them in to Mr Taxman. It's what happened to me, and I had to find £4,000 in a month to pay him off. Now I'm strictly kosher, and play by the book.
So, there are a few insights into the world of the DJ. They're merely my observations, and I'm sure you'll hear differently from each person you speak to. Please keep going ‘dahn the disco'. You have fun... and I'll pay my mortgage!