the electric eclectic @ pub nite
one night as dj (4.13.95)
it's passover - a full moon, saturn and mercury have not been this close to earth in fifteen years. pub nite, a new swarthmore tradition of gathering to drink and merry in the student cafe, is tune-spun by yours duly.(i've since had better results djing for different crowds - san franciscians seem to mo' dig it)the beginning was grace - me and people I knew or knew of on periphy so spun songs I know, and didn't matter cuz layers was possible - definite sound as nothing to play over or under. so streams in and soon buildup to "play some grateful dead" the smiling demi-jocular-dope smoker, "nwa" the standoffing fratter, "can you play some dance music?" the dumure afroamerican woman. as I slip out of my own groove, to try to straddle that mass current, I find there is none, and I lose it all. lose members - the crowd thins which as a mixed blessing in only visible with 20/20 hindsite - less pressure and I perform again as me fun in my space and dance again hair down - lost my tie. the stress is crunching my back muscles now - no matter how I sit is pain. I feel stress and agony and tired and so burnt like I haven't been a while - turned off water and went back for more.reflections are to take no requests, or to not let them get to me. I've got to have fun. period. if I'm doing it, ostensibly free (tho ben gave me $25 unexpected) that's the only saving grace, and the best way to do the best job. can't please. everyone either wants you to play background music, or their favourite band.
Chandra thought it was selfish shit.