Archive for the 'How Not To Request a Song' Category

tonight: a woman walks up and starts dancing and intentionally showing off her cleavage for about 10 seconds too long (how am i measuring what’s too long? i don’t know)

her: what’s your selection?
me: how long have you been here?
her: an hour and a half
me: so you know what i play
her: two hours…you haven’t been playing all night
me: i’ve been playing for more than the last two hours
her: can you play reggae?
me: no
her: why not?
me: i don’t really collect it
her: you don’t like reggae?
me: i like reggae, there’s just a lot of music in the world and what i collect is specific
her: can you teach me? (as she pretends to scratch above the turntable)
me: sure, if you pay me
her: what?
me: people pay me to teach them to dj. i’d be happy to teach you if you want to pay me.
her: i’ll kill it. i want to play reggae. i’ll be so ill.
me: i don’t doubt it
her: i’m going to play at the illest spots, you can have a cut
me: how exactly are you going to get these gigs?
her: between my looks and skills i’ll be killing it
me: so i’m going to teach you…then get you these gigs?
her: yeah, but its going to be easy
me: i don’t even like booking myself, i have no interest booking anyone else
her: but it’s going to be so alphabetically simple. you’re gonna be like “i didn’t know it could be so easy to make money this way.”
me: maybe so but like i said, i have no interested in being a booking agent. you can pay me to teach you and keep the rest of the $ for yourself.
her: (touches record)
me: don’t touch that.

(comes back 5-10 minutes later, i’m playing melba moore’s cover of “you stepped into my life”)
her: yo, you really need to play us some reggae
me: i really don’t
her: yo, you NEED to- (i cut her off)
me: glad you have an opinion
her: my friends want to dance and you’re playing this music – they’re not 80. akon, jay-z, snoop anything?
me: you can ask anyone who comes here any week, i don’t take requests and i play what i want.
her: why? is it egotistical? do you have a girlfriend? wife? kids? are you single? if you’re single this all makes perfect sense. you’re aren’t trying to make any fuckin’ babies in here. maybe if you- (i cut her off again)
me: i’m done talking to you
her: maybe if you play some music that we would like then some ladies would want to make some fuckin’ babies with you.
me: done
her: i only came back because my friends told me to.
me: (silence)
her: only because they said
me: (silence)

then she sends the guy she’s with:
him: this is going to sound weird but can you play bell biv devoe “poison”?
me: no
him: no?
me: no
him: …uh, ok.

gentleman – when your girl comes to you after having her request turned down by the DJ, don’t come to her rescue. think about it, we wouldn’t rather talk to you.

her: ok, i know the answer is going to be no
me: no
her: (smiles)
me: no requests
her: how about some bieber??
me: no requests/wait, what? (realizing just how bad the request was)…i don’t even have that
her: what do you have?
me: it doesn’t work like that
her: (shrugs) that’s all i got
me: ok

90 seconds later:
him: you got something nice you can play for my girl
me: no requests
him: a little rihanna?
me: no requests
him: what you got coming up?
me: i don’t know
him: you got something nice you can give me a preview of?
me: no!

subtitle: how not to plan your girlfriend’s birthday

a guy walks in around 1:00 a.m. overly dressed up with his overly dressed up girlfriend behind him. the dj booth is right next to the door. he’s hardly inside the door and she’s standing half in the stairway.

him: hey it’s her birthday – can you play “break your heart”?
me: by who?
him: (some name i don’t recognize)
me: i don’t have that
him: uh, alejandro?
me: what?
him: uh, i’m trying to think of something she likes – can you play something romantic-ish?
me: …romantic…ish?
him: uh…. (they walk out)

from a unnamed upscale establishment:

her: how long are you djing until?
me: 1:00
her: what time is it now?
me: 12:12
her: (standing saying nothing)
me: (saying nothing)
(time passing)
me: …because you…like the music?
her: well, yes…but…you’re holding back a little, no?
me: uh, what?
her: you’re holding back a little…
me: well, it’s wednesday night…not so crowded, seems about right to me
her: well, i’m here with a bunch of suits and i need them to loosen up a little bit
me: so…you want commercial party jams?
her: commercial?! no…
me: so…
her: well, you know…i need them to come out of their shell a little…
me: i don’t know…
her: (cutting me off) you know EXACTLY what i’m talking about
me: i guess i know what you’re talking about but the only thing i’ve ever seen loosen up some quote unquote stiff people is commercial party jams
her: no, not commercial but…
me: …like what?
her: (pause) wow, i feel like there’s a lot of pressure on me now
me: there’s no pressure here
her: well, i was putting the pressure on you, but now i feel like it’s on me
me: i didn’t feel it…
her: (suddenly walks away)
me: …the pressure that is (she didn’t hear me)

i have a few of these i need to get up, don’t remember exactly where this was:

her: do you have “Ignition Remix”? by R. Kelly?
me: no
her: do you have (insert plausible song title #2) by R. Kelly?
me: no
her: do you have (insert plausible song title #3) by R. Kelly?
me: no
her: do you have “I Pissed on a Child” by R. Kelly?
me: what? is that a real song?
her: (completely straight faced) yes.
me: (making a crazy face i’m sure, almost believing her)
her: (walking away without remotely smiling or laughing)
me: (googling it on my phone…she got me good)

last thursday at madame x, this woman couldn’t get near the dj booth at first and started the conversation from 10 feet away. i was playing the Loop Professor’s uptempo mash up of Gilberto Gil’s “Maracatu Atomico” and the drums from Q-Tip’s “Breathe And Stop”:

her: i have a request
me: (unenthused) yeah
her: it’s bad
me: you might want to stop now
her: (pushing her way closer) madonna!
me: (i make the cutthroat gesture a couple times quickly, meaning it’s not gonna happen)
her: well, my friend wants outkast but i don’t care about that, how about michael jackson??
me: i don’t really do requests
her: well, something 80′s, something dance
me: this is a lounge
her: well, this music isn’t any good (with an “it’s so obvious” shrug)
me: i’m glad you have an opinion
her: uh yeah, it’s why there aren’t that many people here (with a “i shouldn’t have to explain this” look on her face)

last thursday at madame x:

him: hey man, i’m (insert name)!
me: hey. jon.
him: we’re a little drunk (smiling).
me: huh?
him: we’re a little tipsy! can you play the gypsy kings?
me: don’t have them.
him: oh man – you need to get their greatest hits. the last song…track 18, you could just put in on…you wouldn’t even have to do anything…you could just have a drink…it’s mixed…all of their hits…mixed. you got a little [starts singing one of these songs at full volume, turning heads within 20 feet] and then you got a little [same volume -- different song].
me: (staring)
him: how about a little latin?
me: i’ll see what i can do for you.
him: be flexible!
me: o…k…

he goes away. i play “steppin’ out” by joe jackson before i play anything latin and his group of friends all react – he yells “jazzy j!” to/at me from across the bar. i follow it with a latin song to which there is no response. five minutes later as i’m scribbling down what he said on a guest check at the bar, his friend comes over:

her: hey – he’s the only one dancing. do you have any gypsy kings?
me: you’re friend already asked, i don’t.
(she pauses and stares at what i was writing, after a second i realize what she’s looking at and put my hand over it – oops!)
her: do you have anything else?
me: (staring)
her: (staring)
me: (raising my eyebrow then tilting my head a little)
her: (slightly smiling in akwardness)
(ten seconds total passes)
her: …like…them?
me: (shrug)
her: should i come back with better requests?
me: (shrug)
her: ok, i’ll come back with better requests.

saturday night at soho house:

him: hey – you got “day & night” and “infinity”?

me: who’s the artist?
him: oh come “day & night”…?
me: (staring blankly)
him: look it up!
me: (shaking my head)
him: (singing one his requests for me)
me: (rolling my eyes)
him: hey it’s my birthday!
me: happy birthday
him: i’m 35 and i never kissed a guy.
me: …um, no time like the present? (assuming he wasn’t referring to me)
him: huh? oh, i’m into girls. in two hours time i’ll be 35…and i never kissed a guy (throws his hands up as if it’s still strangely unexplainable)
me: (would have loved to see the uninviting look on my face)
him: (starts dancing in a slight night-at-the-roxbury style, no irony intended, to the song he’s still singing in his head and then walks away)

some women had a 30th birthday party upstairs at madame x last night. apparently, they budgeted for strippers but didn’t budget for their own dj and had my music sent upstairs. it was slow downstairs so i tried to meet them halfway. this conversation, the fourth in a series, happened while i was playing “i can” by nas.

she: my friends want to know if you can play better music.
me: better?
she: yeah.
me: can you be more specific?
she: um (scratching her head)…i went to a britney spears concert recently.
me: britney spears?
she: yeah, um, nelly fertado? not this, what the hell is this!?
me: nas.
she: nas? yeah, not nas. um, pussycat dolls? we want to shake our a$$es.
me: i don’t have that stuff. sorry, i don’t know what to tell you.
she: i don’t know what to tell you.
me: you don’t need to tell me anything.
she: (staring off into space)…i like this song (yes, she’s referring the nas song)…i don’t know, if the music doesn’t get better i’ll…i’ll just leave early.
me: ok.
she: i have that laptop, i can do that same sh#t!
me: it’s time for you to go back upstairs now.
she: ok.