Commercial Dance Music is Necessary

Commercial dance music is a necessary entry point for newcomers who will gradually tire of the gaudy superficiality of chart-friendly fodder and become valuable fans of the less wealthy, more underground artists and DJs. My guess is that something else will come along to overtake cheesy house as the teenage genre du jour and it will fall back into general indifference, much like with disco and punk. Barriers to entry have certainly fallen in recent years, and it’s demonstrably possible to attain commercial success by producing and performing lowest common denominator dance music.  When things do inevitably move on, it will be interesting to see which artists currently living the high life stick around. The underground core of the industry has always been remarkably resilient through the various cycles of popularity, driven by people who don’t mind unsociable travel itineraries and inconsistent pay to make and play the music they love. So regardless of what nonsense is going on at the surface, I know there will always be a small dark room somewhere where the DJ will be playing new, exciting electronic music.
Promotional Mini Mix - for download

Synch or Mix

Much has been said about the future of electronic music.  When I first started DJing, it was about finding that obscure piece of vinyl and dropping it on the crowd at the perfect time.  There was always an ebb and flow to the set.  The rise would be followed by a subtle shift, only to then slowly build back to a frenzied mass that would ignite the crowd into bedlam and mayhem.  Now, it’s all about glitz and glamour.  The bottom line, commercial DJs are getting too comfortable and the diehard fans like me are noticing. 

House Music, now called EDM (Electronic Dance Music), has gone from the underground raves of the 90s, to DJs with rock-star cred.  DJs like Tiesto, Skrillex, Afrojack, Pauly-D, David Guetta, Swedish House Mafia, and now Paris Hilton (insert gag reflex) all command fees upwards of $250,000 per show.  These DJs aren’t even DJing in its truest sense.  They are simply hitting play and have become a glorified jukebox or iTunes playlist.  “What worries me is not that DJs are simply ‘pressing play,’ but that they’re pressing play on the same tracks in the same order night after night after night,” said writer Jacob Schulman of Rolling Stone.  During Paris Hilton’s first ever gig in front of a huge crowd in Brazil, she couldn’t even press play and a tech had to come on stage to do it for her. 

The Wall Street Journal, of all places, stated in a recent article that there has been a ‘dumbing down of electronic music’ with these cliché ridden performers that do not represent the best of this genre.  House DJ legend Mark Farina was recently asked to leave the booth in the middle of a set in Las Vegas because he wasn’t playing recognizable music.  This is just another example of how club owners are paying huge fees for these douchebags to play to the champagne crowd. 

Full disclosure: I am 42.  I started DJing in 1990, which is about the time that most of the attendees of the Electric Daisy or Ultra Music Festivals were born.  I come from a time when DJs would program sets lasting 8-12 hours.  I was a frequent patron of NYC's infamous 'Twilo' in the late 90s and early 2000s. Granted, I knew the DJs like Sasha and John Digweed personally; they would take the club on a journey, sometimes playing til noon the next day.  In the Wall Street Journal’s article, superstar DJ Avicii said, “I just can’t play house for two hours.” Really? Then how would you possibly program a set for 8-12 hours? 

DJing is about taking risks.  If I were your age, I would listen to the older people talk about the stuff they used to do.  Granted, this may have little to do with the music you love now, but taking risks with the music is what made me fall in love with this genre.  If you’re a DJ, then think about skipping that big tune and tease the crowd with little to no regard for their reaction.  Make the crowd not only go bananas, but make them weep, yell, and question the very nature of their existence.  So, gather round the campfire, children, I have hundreds of dancefloor stories to share.  All of them starring you, but not really meant for you at all.  I am the DJ.  I do not take requests.  I am in control. Not you, silly dancer.