DJ Stylus - The Vibe Conductor

SHOWMANSHIP. Interplay. Creativity.

No push button dj’ing with explosions and gun shots all over everything. No safety net (the only safety net being the ability to improvise when something goes wrong… and something ALWAYS goes wrong on stage).

And I don’t mean a rap group with a turntablist who does his battle routine in the middle of the show. I’ll take the good ones over most modern day hip-hop shows but it’s not an integrated experience.

A DJ + an MC + a band + dancers. Hella rare in 2008. You definitely don’t need all of those ingredients but the most important part is actually putting some thought into it at the very least. Some personality & charisma go a long way.

Why do people pay money to see bammas walk back and forth across the stage shouting over each other and hardly engaging with the audience except to berate them or bully them? Is that supposed to be entertaining?

No wonder I rarely go to hip-hop shows anymore. And with record sales in the toilet, EVERYBODY has to tour these days, so the quotient of crap shows is shooting upwards.

And the “shows” that aren’t outright belligerent are really pep rallies. Most times if you hear that an act rocked their show, it wasn’t because their performance was particularly engaging. It’s because they have hits and everyone was excited to be in the same room with their favorite rappers yelling the lyrics at the top of their lungs. It’s a karaoke party. Admittedly, that can be fun sometimes (like the last time I saw A Tribe Called Quest) but in general I need a much more substantial experience for my concert dollars.

I guess I’m just old school.

And I’m fine with that.

So hauntingly beautiful, simple yet powerful. Such an organic interplay between the decks, samplers and drums. I hadn’t even seen this clip when I did this.

But the flick has been on my purchase list for a while. I finally pulled the trigger and ordered it. I was inspired.

Rhomiepalooza IV might be in Brazil this year and I am amped.

Feeling a rush of hometown pride lately. About to take the 9:30 Club stage with my fam and an all DC lineup in a couple weeks. Caught this vid of Raheem on the red carpet at the Grammys. And been spending time catching up with Mambo Sauce (be sure to listen to “Letter to Go-Go”).

I am ashamed but also grown enough to admit that I slept on them for a minute. I’d heard good things about them but I don’t interface with many youngsters these days and hardly ever listen to the radio so the groundswell of support they’ve been amassing was late in reaching my old ears. I might actually have to get down to P.A. Palace to make sure I stay current.

I’d also heard them dismissed as “pop” but my verdict is that these bammas crank, joe. They’re polished but still aggressive. I dig the rapping dude and the vocalist, and the cutie pie female drummer, and the fact that the members have put in work with some of the most important bands in the city (NEG, Suttle and more). Call it corny if you must but I dig the POSITIVITY. I dig that the kids like them. I’m probably most pleased with the musicianship.

This jont is like Linkin Park playing go-go.

I’m no A&R but my instincts tell me that a national audience might eat this up.

Stop taking us lightly.

Ladies & gentleman, gear whores and tech geeks… DJ Roger Troutman on the mix COMEONKICKIT!

Well, if he were white and used software and decks instead of a talkbox. Damn I miss that dude.

Anyway…

I’m coming in late on this one but lots of folks in the comments are clowning his skills on the cut. I think his chops are secondary to the creative possibilities. And for those I give this cat abundant props.

And now, a boon to anyone who will soon be looking to buy used turntables on the secondhand market:

I’m still adding to my collection but vinyl really is in death gurgle mode. The long goodbye is an emotional one.

And now a question to partygoers, might you be hyper-stimulated by a dj cutting it up on the decks and on a video screen simultaneously?

I’m sorry, I had to do it again. It just makes me too happy.

It looks like this vid made its way to YouTube from the U.K. and I’ve heard that Trouble Funk was big over there. I’m still trying to track down that BBC go-go documentary.

(in case you were ever wondering about Special Ed’s “Monster Jam”)

It’s hard to explain to folks who aren’t from the DC area. Actually, I’ve met natives who have no concept of go-go but that’s another social/economic/racial discussion. You can get some pretty accurate musical and historical background but the first time you step into a go-go you’ll either be profoundly puzzled or something will resonate deep within you. I’ve seen it happen both ways, that’s why I’m often hesitant when out-of-towners tell me they want to experience go-go when they visit DC.

To put it bluntly, go-go is some really black shit. It’s visceral. It’s the drum. It’s been hyper-regional for the entirety of its existence. It’s something that you don’t feel like you have to represent because once you’ve been inoculated with it at a young age it’s always in you.

My musical upbringing included hip-hop, the church, my mom’s record collection, and Top 40 radio. Go-go fit in a bit differently because it was something that was fully integrated into the world I experienced outside of my home. It was the language, aesthetic and landscape of a kid growing up in different hoods in DC in the ’80s. I left DC when I was 13. The timing was good because crack was ravenously devouring the city. I put my Junkyard tapes away and threw myself into hip-hop which really shaped my teen years. By the time I returned I was a college student and strident hip-hop head. The go-gos were too violent and I was a budding backpacker.

I’ve seen a lot of the world since those days. I’ve explored many musical paths. And now, I rarely go to go-gos anymore. It’s not really “rarely”, it’s more like “almost never”. My social universe doesn’t intersect with the go-go world. Sometimes I try to force an intersection. I’ll drop go-go joints in my DJ sets. The problem with that is that my core audience and the crowd at most of the gigs I play are not DC natives. I can fit in one classic Essence joint maybe, or of course that one Def Jam single that everyone loves.

And if I were to play for primarily DC natives, they wouldn’t really embrace all of the other musical lanes I like to travel in, with a few exceptions.

I know folks like me. They may have lived in other countries. Their music collection might have Radiohead next to Manu Chao next to Art Tatum. They might have advanced degrees from fancy universities. But drop a crankin’ ass socket on ‘em and they’ll work it like they were sweating at the Metro Club.

We’re a small tribe. As a result, I have fleeting reunions with my old friend. I’ll crank up the radio when I’m driving if I happen to catch a ‘PGC or ‘KYS go-go segment. If you see me at a stop light I am not having a seizure. I trade digitized versions of old PA tapes with friends on the internet. I scour the used record bins for classic go-go vinyl releases. I’ll grab PA tape re-releases from the kiosk at PG Plaza or the sweet CD-R section at CDepot.

I’m renewing my relationship with my old friend. I don’t know how exactly that will come out in what I do musically but, maaan… I MISS THIS SHIT.

It’s no coincidence that I’m gravitating towards NEG lately. For me they represent a great intersection of classic breakdowns and musicianship with the percussive aggression of modern go-go.

WARNING: THIS VIDEO IS RATED “SC” FOR “SERIOUS CRANK”

and of course, the good JYB…
KNOCK ‘EM OUT THE BOX, WINK!!!! (direct link, embedding disabled)

This one puts a lump in my throat… Cap Center, Heavy One (R.I.P.) on the buckets (direct link, embedding disabled)

When I was a shorty I wanted to be these dudes SO BAD. I’m damn near crying now.

While we’re talking shop with each other, we dj’s constantly kick around war stories and share tips. The best of us intimately understand the complex psychological tightrope walk that a successful party rocking experience entails. The skillset isn’t completed by technical ability and encyclopaedic musical knowledge. The third and possibly most crucial element to good party rocking is emotional empathy. A good dj can pick up the emotional frequency of a room like an antenna was implanted in his/her brain. A great dj can then tune that frequency to one of their own choosing.

There are drawbacks to cultivating this sixth sense as a dj. When you’re that plugged in you can get easily get tainted. I’ve realized that whenever things are out of sync that may impede my ability control the room’s emotional energy, I experience heightened tension and anxiety. There are the obvious things like sound/technical problems but the subtle aspects are often more detrimental to my mission.

The pouty, salty chicks in the corner who aren’t going to enjoy themselves no matter how much fun everyone else is having make my job harder and give me a headache. You should have just stayed at home or gone to a spot that’s just like a trite rap video. Maybe you’ll be happy once you pay for the priviledge of standing in line for an hour, having your ass grabbed and some drinks spilled on you! Surly bouncers can sabotage me before folks even get through the door because insulted club patrons have harder hearts that are more difficult to win over. High drink prices are another culprit. I can see that wallet pinch on people’s faces and even worse I can read when they’re obsessed about that $15 they just dropped and are too frustrated to feel the music. And there’s always that person that thinks the dj is their personal servant rather than someone who is working for the good of everyone and is an artist in their own right. That stank aura of entitlement is quite contagious to other partygoers. Watch what happens the next time that one persistent prick starts browbeating the dj. They’ll inevitably be joined by copycats.

Basically though, whatever is troubling your soul when you walk into my party, most likely I’m aware of and really effected by it whether it’s significant (you lost your job) or frivolous (that b***h thinks she’s cuter than you). The sum of that bad energy is poisonous to a budding vibe and when it reaches a certain threshold it’s something that I become obsessed with conquering.

I’m of the opinion that it’s my job to make everyone happy if I can (sometimes it’s beyond my control) and I say I succeed about 99.99f the time. I can win over any room. ANY ROOM. That’s the standard I’ve set for myself and the reputation I have and it’s important to me. We all have varying tolerances for compromise as dj’s. Some jocks will acquiesce to every fool that pesters them in the booth. Others are militant and see it as offensive to their artistry to cater to tastes they perceive as lower than their own. I’m somewhere in the middle. I feel like I’ve reached a level where I can please a wide variety of people without selling out my principles. I once said that I would never play anything by R. Kelly so as not to co-sign on teen sexual abuse but in a moment of desperation at a gig I dropped a couple Arruh joints just to get folks to LEAVE ME THE F**K ALONE. I’m still conflicted about what I did.

To avoid crises of conscience and high blood pressure I generally don’t take gigs that are way out of my personal areas of interest - which is why I stopped hustling for those high profile mainstream club gigs many years ago… if I had to play krunk several nights a week I’d jump off of a building… let alone hyphy, snap music, Dipset or whatever other strains the niggalicious virus may mutate into - but if I have to switch gears while I’m in the trenches I’ll do what I have to do even if it’s not “my thing.” It’s funny when people think they know who I am as a dj are then surprised when I rip a crazy dancehall and soca set or figure out how to mix the newest radio jams with some old school classics. I’m always studying, y’all. I’m not easily defined.

So what’s the point? A fun night out is very subjective, as well as ideas of what “good” and “bad” music is. That’s why I can rock a party down to its foundation but I can never totally eliminate the potential for hating. And as long as that element of hate persists I can’t rest, even when it’s frequently unfounded. That’s the price I pay for the heightened instincts that make one a vibe conductor.

I’m not yet at a level where I’m so accomplished and so in demand that I can dismiss anyone who isn’t feeling me. But even if I do blow up I wouldn’t start thinking like that because it would go against one of the main things that makes me dope.

Before he passed on it had gotten to the point that I had to put his music on quarantine.

I had to excise certain records from my regular gigging crates, expunge files from my iPod and place his cd’s out of immediate access.

Dilla joints can easily turn into a CRUTCH maaaan! “Think Twice”, “Players” and “Runnin’” NEVER fail, but I’m a dj who doesn’t like to be lazy. It was becoming second nature that I could look into a bag that I’d pack for a gig or to play on the radio show and notice that 50% of the records were Dillmatic. Dilla records for a cat like me are like a kid’s security blanket. As hard as it was to tear away I knew that I had to keep the produce rotated or else I’d be known as that guy who does hour long Jay Dee sets. Thankfully I realized that I was well on the path of addiction before I got predictable.

I could consciously change my DJ’ing habits but Dilla’s influence on how I conceptualized the creation of music has been much harder to shake.

“I can’t program that kick like that, it’s a Dilla bite.”
“I have to stop chopping up samples of electric piano chords.”

It had become a compulsion! For awhile I was raiding Chick Corea and Lonnie Liston Smith records like they held the answers to the universe. I grew out of that though.

Because he was always evolving, whatever Dilla’isms I’d be trying to avoid copying were always 2 or 3 generations behind his most recent material. Now I find myself questioning how I can use vintage synth patches for bass lines without mimicing “Raise It Up” or “Do You.”

WILL ANY OF US EVER BE ABLE TO USE RESONANT FILTERS AGAIN AND STILL BE ORIGINAL??!?

“Hey, it’s Dill Withers so deal widdit”. (I LOVE that line!! best producer on the mic y’all, Black Thought co-signs!)

I take joy in the task before me that is tracking down every piece of Dilla material that I don’t yet own and look forward with excitement to that which is not yet released. Which brings me to another point about his influence. I will be CONSCIOUSLY biting his vocal inflections from now on. I will make it a point to use Dilla ad-libs in daily conversation as much as possible.

“UNGGH!!”
“Turn me up!!”

They’ll come in handy in staff meetings.

Beyond the enormous body of work and records with the particular qualities that make dj’s happy, Dilla’s gift to me is the ability to see possibility. Look at records the way Dilla did and you realize that any possible sound your ear can perceive has the potential to be morphed into the perfect beat. The only limit is your imagination and spending 10 years digesting Dilla’s output has expanded my imagination many times over.

It’s also good to know that this genius was a person who was loved fiercely by people who knew him not just because he was brilliant with music but because he was a great human being. Creativity is a gift that often comes with a price. The dark side of that gift combined with the way the entertainment industry attacks the spirit of creative people can often bring out the ugliest traits in the most gifted artists. I am happy for all those who were able to call themselves friends of Dilla as well as fans. You are so fortunate.

I had a revelation recently about how I’ve structured my life around the pursuit of fleeting moments where the magic happens. The magic is when the party is just right and I’m floating on the turntables and people are jumping and shouting and smiling and my heart soars. I become a conduit for the energy of everyone in the room to combine into this massive jolt of excitement and happiness. The magic happens when I’m holed up at Urban Intalek with people who are not only my peers but my best friends. The hours pass, the chicken is consumed, the brews flow and as the creative process unfolds I find that I’m most at peace. All is well with my soul… until I stumble out at 4am to meet my work day in a few hours.

I was reflecting on the cost/benefit analaysis of the enormous expenditure of resources required to spark these all too brief and infrequent moments of magic. Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it. Am I just chasing a temporary high? Dilla helped remind me that it’s not just a rush, it is my spirituality. The connection through creativity that I make with other humans and with something that I can’t explain as a tangible phenomenon (some folks might call it ‘God’, I don’t presume myself enlightened enough to define what it is… it just IS) is the fuel that nourishes my inner self. I need it to live, and so did Dilla. Even as his body failed him his spirit still thrived on his music.

Art is sacred. Thank you James Yancey for inspiring me on my journey.