Welcome to the first edition of Everybody Hates Chris. This is a new monthly feature here on DoD where I give my salty .02 on the current state of affairs in EDM. So let’s get into it …
We get it, you DJ on a week night in front of ten of your close friends who would probably have sex with your girlfriend when you are not looking and some drunk girl who has no idea why or what she is doing with her life or what compelled her to be at this hole in the wall on a Tuesday; a. k. a. your girlfriend. Back to point, you are here to spin moombahton for little to nobody (actually nobody) and get paid dog shit (literally dog shit might be worth more than what you’re paid) but you are just in it for the fun of it and the “exposure”.
Little do you know your life is about to change because you just got offered a 10 o’clock opening gig at a party and … wait for it … you play on a weekend. So with that you change your DJ name from something unoriginal to a big time headliner name that nobody will see on the bottom of an online half ass flyer covered mostly by bottle service ads. Fast forward 6 months into this debt-filled, ego-driven rampage that your parents are horrifically displeased of, while you live in your bedroom failing your remedial college entry prep class because the late nights are really “beating you up” and the waking up before noon really is not cutting it for you.
While on this roller coaster of no pay and little drive, your dream of becoming the next Borgore really does not seem to be gaining traction due to the fact you can’t produce shit and you can’t tell the difference from a kick drum to you ripping ass through your your unwashed joggers. This lack of skill now follows you for the next few years as you reach an even larger decrease of “fame” you mentally fucked yourself into thinking you had coming. Just as you’re about to give up, because you should, a light at the end of a long sad and pathetic tunnel finally shines through when Nightculture, the holy highlight of your life where you -“DJ Red Liner”- can take your big step to being a rockstar opening up for Steve Aoki’s brother Glen or some shit we don’t even care about.
So going into this you know you gotta bring the fire so you go home and find all the newest sick tracks on YouTube and download the fuck out of them. After spraying on a hefty 4 portions of axe body spray on the aforementioned joggers, you grab your Traktor box, and prepare to show the world you are unique and special and make your way to Stereo Live. You show up at 8:00pm in the parking lot for soundcheck but nobody will let you in so you wait calmly and know everybody who once doubted you will soon know what kind of talent you have. Needless to say you went in, spilled your Redbull vodka that you got with your only drink ticket for the night on the mixer and redlined the shit out of Martin Garrix – Animals ’til you blew out a monitor.
Why? Because you fucking suck.
Thank you Getter for pointing out the obvious. Local DJs get replaced daily and when you say “have fun playing from 10 ’til close because you wont have opening talent.”. It means nothing because another one of these spineless egotistical snobs will gladly jump on after you and the cycle will continue.
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