Tag Archives: DJ

DJ

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It’s Friday, last day of a 4 day work week. And it was quite an interesting work week. I’m not going to rehash the week, you can always go back and read what I wrote. Today was something else. I mainly played DJ today.

Some of the sub-subtenants enjoyed what I was playing and told me so. I mentioned that I used to do it for a living. But that wasn’t true. I never made a living from it. Maybe $30.00 and a burger or cavatelli with broccoli.

Occasionally I DJ’d someone’s wedding. That was always a nerve wracking experience. The first time I really DJ’d at a friends wedding was in 1986. I borrowed equipment from Ulysses Sankitts, a friend I had only met a few days before at a job I started one day before Ulysses.

He trusted me enough and talked it over with his brother Tony and they brought it to a loft on Broadway right above Canal Street. Eve who was a waitress at McSwells married Jeff a bartender at a bar in the city, so the guests were mainly the hip crowd. I guess I did well. It was a blur really.

I did spend more money on records than I was actually getting paid. Back then if given a choice between music and food, I would pick music. I was spinning records on off nights at McSwells, eventually taking over Guy Ewald’s shift. Charlie had Saturday nights so I had Fridays.

Occasionally we would switch shifts. McSwells was so insular then, whomever would DJ would sometimes work the door, always for $30.00 and the aforementioned dishes.

One time I was DJ’ing a wedding and the couple gave me a list of what they wanted played. I didn’t have Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton and it was the main number. They provided a copy but I never got around to it. The marriage was doomed anyway. The groom had quite a wandering eye and I think within a year it was kaput.

Another time a couple a few doors down from McSwells were getting married and I had the whole place swingin’. I remember a conga line snaking through the crowd at 1st and Clinton while I played the extended dance mix of Konk Party, still a favorite song 25 years later.

They paid me with a check that I cashed at McSwells even though McSwells never did that. Of course the check bounced and I got an earful from Steve Fallon’s sister Ann. But I loved to play music for other people and I still do.

I prefer to make people dance than actually dancing myself. The last time I DJ’d was at Lois and Fred’s wedding party in August and no one danced. I played nothing but hits and surefire things to move some butts and get asses wiggling but it never happened.

I guess I would be better suited for small situations without a dance floor, like office cubicles. When I worked at Farfetched, I would try to carefully select the music for the store, but sometimes Lois or Susan (or Denise) wouldn’t like what I was playing and I would get a puss on, taking their rejection of my musical selections so personally.

I think I would do well as a radio DJ, but that is my brother Frank’s area and I wouldn’t dare encroach on his space, no way.

I will say being a DJ with an iPod is a lot easier than lugging crates of records around. I would lug about 6 crates sometimes. On New Years Eve at McSwells I would bring 10 crates. That was always a big money night, $150.00 (maybe more) and various potions and drinks.

Good times from what I could remember.

Tell Me Something Good

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It’s Tuesday. In a much better mood at that. I did think about going to McSwells for their holiday party, but it’s always so awkward. I’d go and see Roda but he would be wanted by so many that I would stand around wondering what am I doing there.

Rand and Lisa went and I bet they had a good time. They always do. And the wonderful Pat Longo was DJing and I’m sure he did well. Whether or not any one danced is another story.

As much as I loved to DJ at the McSwells party, it was always a stressful affair, including one time Irwin Bicuspid was sitting next to the speakers and complaining about the music being too loud. He is or was a DJ at WFMU as well as my brother Frank.

No one would dance at the holiday party despite my best attempts. It didn’t matter since I wound up getting as fucked up as everyone else. New Years Eve was a nerve-wracking experience as well.

No one would dance at all before midnight when, no matter what year it was, I would play Prince- 1999. That would get those asses shaking not to mention those butts. And of course I would get as fucked up as everyone else, usually spinning from 9PM until 3 or 4AM.

I would usually be situated by the bar so it was an easy reach to the right for a fresh cocktail or pint of Guinness. But somehow I acquired the foresight and knew that I couldn’t keep on partying like that.

Plus I wasn’t in Hoboken anymore, I was in Weehawken and the walk home wasn’t as kind as it used to be. So I eventually faded from view at McSwells.

Steve Fallon eventually sold the place to a guy I never had the misfortune of meeting though I did see the huge beer vats that he had installed in the front room. He gave up after alienating most of the staff and regulars and it fell into the hands of Todd Abramson and 2 others.

When I did go back I didn’t know anyone, except for Roda who signed on after the Fallon era, after listening to the fun stories that Rand and Julio and myself told him about what fun we had there.

It wasn’t fun anymore, Todd had taken control and the regulars moved on, sobered up or died. He’s still there though and it would have been good to see him last night. Perhaps Friday I’ll pop in for a pint and give him a holiday hug.

Last night was quiet instead. I watched Heroes instead of recording it. I was glad that I did, especially with the Obama-esque president at the end. A black president. You only see his lips and his eyes, never his whole face.

If I recorded it, it more than likely would have been cut off like the previous weeks. It did give me a chuckle. He did a better job of a Barack Obama impersonation than Fred Armisen.

So I’m in a better mood today. The stalker phoned and Vivek took the call as he was at my desk. He told the stalker that I am being fired because she wouldn’t stop calling. She asked him where his ethics were, firing me at Christmastime.

He told her that if she wants to call me she should call Ireland starting in January and hung up the phone after wishing her a good life. I wished I would have thought of that. Still I forwarded my phone to the fax machine in case she calls again.