Cross a DJ with a Nerd, you get a Seb.
Archive for August, 2004
What Would Roger Sanchez Do (Part 2)
Aug 23rd
The following year, the same friend sent me the same email with the same amount of days remaining before the demo had to be sent in. By now, of course, my trusty minidisc deck had been repaired and was working perfectly. I organised a day off from work to have as many attempts as I needed to get my recording finished, and set off bright and early to the club. After one practice run, I took a deep breath and pressed record. It began well, and after the first few mixes, I began to relax and really start to enjoy myself. I even had time for a little bobbing up and down on the spot (the closest a dj ever gets to dancing) and really felt that things were going well. About halfway through my mix up, some of the other staff members turned up.
Nothing unusual in that – there is a lot to do in a club during the day to keep things running smoothly at night. It’s just that they all seemed to be yelling at each other. I tried to ignore the situation developing in front of me, and continued my mix, but the arguing escalated, as did the waving of arms and the volume of their voices.
I turned the speaker beside me up louder to compensate, but they just got even louder, before one of them burst into tears and ran off. As weird as the situation was, I managed to get all my mixing finished in the next half hour and left as quietly as I could, while the three remaining staff members continued yelling at each other. To this day I have no real idea what went on, just that they were obviously victims of Sydney Demo Sydrome. These things only happen when I try to make these demos.
Although this time I actually got the demo transferred to cd and mailed it off.
A few weeks later I got a message from Mardi Gras saying that they liked my demo, but unfortunately I wasn’t one of the selected dj’s. On the positive side, my disc had rated highly with the listening panel, and they encouraged me to submit again for Sleaze Ball, or Mardi Gras next year. So it was all worth it.
So that brings us to today. And Sydney Demo Syndrome has me firmly within it’s grasp. This time, the demo is for Sleaze Ball, and is due on the 9th of August.
Thursday night I played a gig, then went straight to the club (we’re closed on Thursdays) at about two in the morning. I set up my minidisc deck and did a couple of practice runs to get an idea of the flow of the tracks I wanted to use. Then at about 3:30 I pressed record and started my mix. About two tracks into it I noticed that my deck had stopped recording and was flashing the words ‘TOC’ on the display panel. Letting out a huge ‘here we go again’ sigh, I switched it off and tried to eject the disc. It wouldn’t. I pressed play. Again nothing. I tried pressing record. Nada. It had completely seized up. Even switching it off, then on again at the power point did nothing.
By now I’m so used to these things happening that I don’t even bat an eyelid, I just keep on going. I decided that the best thing to do would be to go home and get my hi-fi vcr. You can record sound directly onto hi-fi video tape without too much loss of quality, so it was the next best option. I unplugged the minidisc deck and left the club to swap it over for my vcr. Unluckily for me, it was pouring down with rain at the time, and as I walked down the metal steps out the back, both feet flew out from under me and I only just managed to catch myself on the railing and save myself from falling down the remaining twenty steps. The minidisc deck wasn’t as lucky. It flew out of my hands and smashed open in the alleyway below. Oh yes.
Again, not wanting to let these ridiculous occurances stop me, I cleaned it up, threw it in the bin behind the club and drove home to get the vcr. Upon my return, things went a little better as I managed to get three quarters of the way through the mix, with it recording perfectly before the needle inexplicably skidded from the middle to the end on the record I was playing. How fabulous, I thought, as I decided to go home and call it a night. Demo attempt number one aborted.
Not wanting to tempt fate too much, and suddenly becoming stair-phobic, I didn’t attempt it again until Saturday. I went in the late afternoon, set everything up and recorded a fantastic demo. Almost. I got home and went to play the tape, and it was completely blank. Everything was hooked up properly (I always do a little test recording first) but for some reason it didn’t record. No problem. I still had a few days. I decided to try again Monday. Demo attempt number two aborted.
So today, I went in with a different VCR, a brand new video tape and my records. I tested the recording setup twice before I did a complete run, and managed to do a perfect take. I sighed with relief as I played back the recording at the club and it sounded great – completely clear and crisp. All I had to do was take it home and transfer it to cd, and I could mail it off first thing in the morning. Mission accomplished.
Nearly.
I pressed eject and the video tape wouldn’t come out. I got a screwdriver and removed the cover – the tape was completely chewed and wrapped around the heads of the vcr. I managed to get it out, but it’s ruined. Demo attempt number three aborted.
So I’m going to a friend’s house for dinner, and then I’m going back again with a borrowed minidisc player to try again. I really really really hope that it works this time, and that I don’t spontaneously combust, or get caught in the middle of a coup, or have a skydiver crash through the roof and land on the decks, or have a giant squid eat my records. I guess we’ll see.
I’ll keep you posted. In the meantime, pray for your favourite little wanna be superstar dj. He really needs it……
And by favourite, I of course mean me. Alex Taylor doesn’t need your prayers as far as I’m aware.
What Would Roger Sanchez Do?
Aug 22nd
In my life there exists a particularly bizarre phenomenon. It’s called Sydney Demo Syndrome, or SDS. I’m currently in the midst of a major attack of it, and felt the need to warn others, lest the same affliction strike them in the way it has my good self.
I first encountered SDS in December 2002. I had received an email from a dj friend in Sydney, telling me that the Mardi Gras board had asked for demo cd’s from dj’s interested in playing at the next big Mardi Gras party. All I had to do was record a demo cd, displaying my mixing skills, and I could be playing to thousands of screaming homosexuals in hotpants, all gyrating lewdly and calling my name. Easy.
Well no. For some reason, a perfectly simple process turned into a meltdown-inducing nightmare.
For starters my pal had sent the email to me with four days to spare. So time was going to be tight. Especially as I don’t have equipment set up at home, and need to go into the club outside of opening hours to make a demo.
On a Monday night, I picked a stack of records out and went up to the club to ‘lay one down’ , so to speak. I had taken my minidisc deck up there on Saturday night to record a set for a friend, and left it there, knowing I would be back to use it again on Monday. I got to the club, lugged my records upstairs, set everything up, and then noticed that said minidisc recorder wasn’t there. Great. A number of text messages and phone calls later, I located it at one of the other dj’s houses, he had ‘borrowed’ it, thinking that I wouldn’t mind. The other bonus was that the deck was at his house, and he wasn’t, and wouldn’t be until tomorrow. Demo attempt number one aborted.
On Tuesday I worked all day, then went and collected my deck from the dj’s house after work. I went straight to the club, recorded the demo and went home to transfer it to cd. As soon as it started playing I noticed that the sound was only coming out of one speaker, and there was a massive humming sound in the other. It turns out that my friend was a little heavy handed when removing the plugs from the pack of my deck and had broken one of the inputs. Demo attempt number two aborted.
Wednesday I tried to get my deck repaired, but was told it would take a least four days. I only had two. Bummer. Not one to be beaten, I called some of the other dj’s I knew and managed to borrow someone else’s deck. That night I recorded the set again, and wearily staggered home to transfer it to cd. Half way throught the first track the sound dropped out, then came back in again. Then it did it again, and again. It turns out that the disc I had bought was faulty, and was part of a batch that many people had reported problems with. Demo attempt number three aborted.
Thursday was the absolute latest I could send off my demo to ensure it was received in time, so the pressure was on. As luck would have it, I had to work all day, so I got up at four in the morning and drove down to the club to have one last attempt. With one eye half closed, I recorded the set again, checked it had recorded properly (it had!) then raced home to transfer it to cd. I had just enough time to run it off and get to the post office before I started work. When I arrived home, the house was in complete darkness. Of course, there was no electricity. I later found out that someone (who obviously didn’t appreciate my music) had slammed into a telephone pole on the way to work and blacked out half the suburb. By this stage, a lesser mortal would have just given up, but having gotten this far, I was determined not to be beaten. I got my cd recorder and drove back to the club. I hooked it all up, and got ready to transfer the ****ing demo onto the ****ing cd and mail the ****ing thing to ****ing Sydney.
I put the minidisc back into the deck, and the display flashed for a brief moment, before displaying two simple words that would strike fear into the heart of anyone in my situation.
ERASE?? YES.
And then it wiped the entire disc. Yep. The whole shebang. All gone. Game over. See ya. Good luck in the future.
I checked the display panel, half expecting it to read ‘HA! HA! HA! SUCKER!!’ but all I got was
BLANK DISC.
There is no logical reason that this should ever occur, and according to my friend, his deck had never done that before. But it did it that morning, when it was the last thing I needed it to do.
So I did what any self respecting thirty year old man would do in such a situation. I bawled my eyes out, and went to work.