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April 2008 If I had to prepare a checklist of essential elements for a satisfying and fulfilling UK club gig, they’d go something along the lines of: Cool, well-behaved knowledgeable crowd; no dumb requests or stupid comments at the DJ booth; no hater resident DJs; good hospitality; friendly security and management; good quality sound system; decently-sized and positioned DJ booth. What are the chances of all that lot being achieved?! Nevertheless, my introductory session of Angel at Southampton’s Junk Club on Thursday 3rd April ticked every one of the boxes.
MD with DJ Flash at Junk Club, Southampton. Angel is run by enterprising young promoter Nicky Cross, and I’d been avidly reading her Facebook and Myspace bulletins about how rammed the night gets for several months. She wasn’t kidding. The queue was snaking along London Road as I arrived in town, and the spot was heaving and sweaty inside. I span alongside South Coast kingpin DJ Flash. Plenty of bashment and bassline was the order of the day, and the crowd were still baying for one more way after the curfew at 3.10am. I suspect there are a lot of ‘sick’ calls to South Coast employers on a Friday morning as a result of Angel. Definitely a rare gem of a night, and one I hope to get back to sooner rather than later.
James Ussher and Miles at The Second Bridge, Bath. It felt as if Oxford had been picked up and transported 90 miles to the South West on Saturday 5th. The Second Bridge in Bath, as its name suggests, is the smaller sister venue to The Bridge in Oxford, with similarities in the little aesthetic touches, (although the name must confuse the hell out of Bath folk who don’t know the story.) While I did my thing in the Vaults, Oxford resident James Ussher held down the main room, with barman Miles in attendance, while I’d been joined for a night out by former Oxford promoter Rob Martin. The night was as rammed and sweaty as it generally is. This time, I’d been shrewd enough to bring some of Parveen’s incense sticks to counter the smell of farts that always permeate the low-ceilinged tunnels, which made for pleasant-smelling results. The only thing I had left to contend with was a design flaw which involves an air-conditioning vent blasting out icy air at exactly the level of the DJ’s head, (assuming he’s 5’10), and about six inches behind, causing my brain to freeze in my skull. I just managed to drop Rob back off in Oxford and get back home before the South was engulfed in a fall of snow.
Andy Mac and CJ at Vibin, Liverpool. It’s rare that I DJ on a Sunday, but Vibin’ at Baby Blue is a night that always sees me heading to Liverpool with enthusiasm, as it’s one of my favourite UK gigs of all. Residents Andy Mac and CJ have been running it for six years, and deserve props for sticking to proper, heavyweight R&B and hip hop without bowing to commercial/ mainstream pressure. There are plenty of other nights in the city that have done just that. Sadly, the session on Sunday 6th was much quieter than usual, but this may well have been down to the fact that the north was in the grip of some uncharacteristic April snow showers and a bitter wind that made outside conditions far from welcoming. I’ve been known to trek to Liverpool and back in a night, but on this occasion was grateful to have taken an overnight hotel. I've established a new way to consider dumb DJ requests, and that's to compare them to what might be said to a waiter or a chef in a restaurant. When you think about it, someone saying 'haven't you got something we can dance to?' to a DJ, (as someone did to me at G's in Bicester on Thursday 10th,) is rather like saying to a chef 'haven't you got something we can eat?' And asking for Bon Jovi on an R&B and hip hop night is like going into a Thai restaurant and asking them for tagliatelle. Considering these things kept me sane through the evening. As John Lennon once sang, 'whatever gets you through the night...it's alright, it's alright' The G’s mission accomplished, it was time for my latest visit to New York City, with a quick whistle-stop trip to Philadelphia thrown in. I go to NYC once a year, twice if I can manage it, usually for no other reason than to catch a vibe, pick up some music, and generally soak up the atmosphere of the most fascinating city on Earth. It’s telling that, whenever hardened lifelong travel critics are surveyed on their favourite destinations, New York always features in the top three, beating far more exotic destinations like Bali, Thailand, the Caribbean, etc. There must be something in it…
New York City. As overseas trips go, mine could have got off to a better start. It was written in scriptures millennia ago, carved in stone and foretold in the cosmos, that whenever I take a long-haul flight there’s going to be a delay. In this case, my Virgin Atlantic Boeing was held at the gate at Heathrow for three and a half hours owing to a minor technical fault, and a replacement part having to be driven round from Gatwick … on the M25 … on a Friday … at ‘rush’ hour. I rarely get time to read books, so always appreciate the opportunity that long flights offer to catch up on reading. On this occasion, I burrowed into ‘iPod, Therefore I Am’ by GQ magazine editor Dylan Jones, an ode to the world of possibilities offered by the iPod, and written from the point of view of a music obsessive, (like me), with an astronomically-sized collection, (like me) and wildly varying tastes, (like me.) It’s a riveting read, (for trainspotter types at least,) that comes well recommended.
Times Square, Manhattan. Virgin pioneered the idea of being able to choose from a vast pool of in-flight movies and being able to stop, start and pause them, DVD-like, at your leisure, rather than being restricted to a limited few all starting at the same time. I’d missed ‘There Will Be Blood’ at the flicks, so was happy to catch it. It’s directed by Paul Thomas Anderson, the guy that did ‘Boogie Nights’ and ‘Magnolia’, and features a stunning central performance from Daniel Day-Lewis. It’s an oddball one, with a disappointing ending, but is otherwise a modern masterpiece. We eventually touched down at Newark Liberty International Airport close to 11pm on Friday 11th. Nothing more than sleep was on the agenda. Manhattan hotels had proved prohibitively expensive for April. A far more reasonable option was to lodge at the Wyndham Garden Hotel just off Newark Airport, then take a 25-minute train ride into Manhattan each day. The hotel’s grim concrete surroundings left a lot to be desired, but the room was pretty luxurious, and far better value than I could have expected inside New York City.
DJ Drastic at The Scratch Academy. On Saturday 12th I headed into Manhattan, first of all snapping away furiously with my camera to get untold amounts of shots. The full set is now posted in the Pics section of my Myspace page – www.myspace.com/therealmarkdevlin - and they’re pretty damned impressive, if I do say so myself! I then made the inevitable link with The Untouchable DJ Drastic, CEO of the Coalition DJ Network, of which I’m the sole non-U.S member. We spent the day running around town, dropping into The Scratch Academy, where a tutorial on turntable skills was in effect, then moving on to Fat Beats, the legendary world-famous record store where all the hip hop DJs go for their tunes. It was warming to see the store still stacked full of vinyl, one of the last stockades of the format in an increasingly digital world. (Rock & Soul Records, by contrast, the other famous DJ spot, has cut back its vinyl collection by at least half since my last visit, now offering a vast array of CDs.) We shot some dope video footage at Fat Beats, along with a few other locations. You’ll be able to watch this via the Homepage of this site, as well as in my Myspace videos and on Youtube. Take a look – it’s classic material!
MD in Fat Beats Records, New York. My current strategy with New York visits is to see one other U.S city I’ve not visited before on each trip. This time, I had my sights on Philadelphia, the city that spawned music talent ranging from Harold Melvin & the Bluenotes, Teddy Pendergrass and King Britt, through to Jazzy Jeff, Freeway and Jill Scott. Flying made no sense; far better to have a genuine American experience and take a Greyhound Bus. At less than two hours each way, this made a return trip manageable in a day, and I spent Sunday afternoon wandering the city. It’s got a very cool and laid-back, quite European feel, miles away from the madness of Manhattan, (although I’m told Philly’s ghettos are among the most hectic in the United States.) There were second-hand record stores on just about every block.
Philadelphia. On Monday, I headed back into Manhattan for a few hours before flying home. Inspired by the Dylan Jones book, I went to Apple’s Station A retail store in SoHo, where I made the decision to invest in an iPod Classic. I never thought I’d have any real use for an iPod, but having applied some thought to the hours of fun to be had uploading my entire music collection, then organising the tracks into various playlists, and having every piece of music I’ve ever liked in a small pocket-sized box, it suddenly all made sense. I opted for a black 80GB model, able to hold 22,000 songs in MP3 format. And with the dollar’s ongoing weakness against the pound, I got it for a snip of what I would have paid back in rip-off Britain. Linking again with Drastic, we headed to a diner for a feed and a beer and to chew the fat, (along with the breadcrumbed Mozzarella sticks.) Upon boarding my home flight, the captain informed us the flight time would be an amazingly swift 5 hours and 49 minutes. Obeying universal laws, of course, there had to be a price to pay. There was. We were held on the tarmac for an hour as a sick passenger had to be removed, then his bags located and pulled out from the hold. This was my first flight from Heathrow where I wasn’t able to take advantage of my in-laws living in nearby Northolt, instead having to haul my ass back to Oxford on the coach, then blagging a lift home from my Dad. Once back, (besides catching up on some quality time with Wifey, of course!) I set to work straight away on stocking up the iTunes section of my laptop ready for uploading on to the iPod. My in-house CD collection got plundered, as well as some of the older stuff from the garage archives. Unlike the mammoth project I undertook a couple of years ago when making the switch from DJing off vinyl, this one involved ripping tunes I personally like, rather than those I need for gigs, which was immensely satisfying. I now have old rave sounds like Altern 8, Oceanic and Alison Limerick rubbing shoulders with indie stuff like Echobelly, Skunk Anansie and Saint Etienne, and film soundtracks like Pulp Fiction, Trainspotting and Ennio Morricone’s music from The Good The Bad & The Ugly. Great stuff.
MD at Club Boulevard, Ealing, London. The weekend involved two gigs where I was required to hold down the spot all night - G's in Bicester on Thursday, and covering the VIP Room at Club Boulevard in Ealing, West London on Saturday. On both occasions I took my iBook and continued ripping furiously at every available moment. Less got done in Ealing, where the gig was jumping and attended by a reasonably cool and clued-up London crowd. Although my birthday wasn't for another three weeks, I went out for a celebratory meal at a classy country hotel on Wednesday 23rd with Parveen and my folks, as it was the only time we'd all be able to get together. I had to head straight to FM107.9 to present 'Just Buggin' straight afterwards, marking the only time I've ever presented a radio show in a suit ... not that anyone would have known the difference. The rest of the weekend was a local affair, with a spot at The Slug & Lettuce in Aylesbury on Friday night. Happily, this had been billed as an old school revival session, leaving me free to play some 80s and 90s anthems with little or no interference from troublesome punters - my kind of gig. I have a new accessory which now travels everywhere with me in my DJ bag. It's a can of air freshener for dispensing with those rotten-egg-fart, and cornish-pasty-with-onion-armpit stenches that now permeate club atmospheres on a regular basis. I figured I might need it for my spot at The Bridge in Oxford on Saturday 26th. Typically, having come prepared, the air was relatively clean all night ... not that I'm complaining! The previous weekend, someone, (it was unclear if it had been a punter or a careless DJ,) had spilt a blackcurrant drink all over the DJ mixer and one of the turntables. As it wasn't cleaned up, the syrup had congealed into a thick-set glue, completely seizing up the vari-speed control on the deck, and rendering the first three faders on the mixer unusable.
I saw the month out with a few very valuable and enjoyable days in Riga, Latvia, with a multi-faceted trip that involved a couple of gigs, a radio spot, and me delivering a couple of DJ-relevant seminar/ workshops - the first time I've ever done such a thing. Possibly the last, too. Who knows? Flying with Ryanair is a dangerous experience. I don't necessarily mean from a safety point of view, more in the context of their ability to seriously harm your sanity, patience and blood pressure, and relieve you of vast chunks of your time/ life. All that'll make sense from the first part of May's diary, anyway. At least my outward flight from Stansted was on time on Monday 28th.
MD at River Daugava. I was hosted throughout my time in Riga by DJ Ai-va, Latvia's most prominent hip hop DJ/ producer/ promoter, and his colleague DJ Green, staying at the Valdemars Hotel, just outside the old town. Only a meal at a Mongolian wok restaurant was on the cards for the first night. The first of my workshops started the following day.
MD at The Rhythm Institute workshops. I've taken to filming small MPEG movies of my various activities for posting on to Youtube and the Videos section of Myspace page. There's a few snippets from the workshops up on there now. Riga was enjoying a spell of glorious warm Spring weather during my stay, and the city was teeming with gorgeous-looking girls, all of whom seemed to be young, slim and sporting cool sunglasses and Spring fashions. (I'm sure my wife will allow me such a comment in the interests of journalistic efficiency.) It's a beautiful city, and I got to see a lot of it, in contrast to my last visit in November, where it was shrouded in gloomy clouds and sleet. Ai-va is sponsored by the U.S clothing brand Converse, who provide funding for his mix CDs and events. On Tuesday night’s agenda was an industry party for some of Converse's key retailers, held in a warehouse in a grim industrial area on the banks of the River Daugava. It looked like the sort of place you could expect to get mugged or step on a discarded syringe, but the venue itself had a very cool, minimalist feel. On before the DJs were a Latvian rock group called Double Headed Eels, who performed to the appreciative crowd at ear-splitting decibel levels.
DJ crew at the Converse party, Riga. The second of my workshops took place on Wednesday, after which we headed to a radio station on the fringes of Riga, Radio QBS, where Ai-va and Green both present shows. For an hour, I chatted with Ai-va about some trends in UK urban music, and played some favourite tracks from the likes of Bold & Wariyah, Royal Priesthood, Naz T, 10 Shott and Sonny Jim. I hope they went down well with the listenership; they certainly did in the studio. The crowning highlight of the trip was the big Dance Summit wrap-up event on Mayday eve at Rigas Kinostudio, a decrepit and imposing film studio complex harking back to the Soviet occupation era. There were four rooms offering some impressive line-ups - electronic dance in the main arena with The Shapeshifters, Chris Lake and Layo & Bushwacka, breaks with The Stanton Warriors, funky house with Danny Rampling, and hip hop in my room, where I was spinning alongside DJ Quest of Tallinn, Estonia, and Riga's DJ Gustavito. A curious quirk of the Latvian language is that an extra ‘s’ generally gets added to names, so I was known as Marks Devlins. Some names get Latvianised even further, however, so Danny Rampling emerged as Denijam Remplingam, and Chris Lake as Krisam Leikam.
Quest was rocking the spot as I arrived, and I proceeded to play like I was possessed by a demonic spirit over the next couple of hours, elated to be pulling old-school slammers like Eric B & Rakim, Slick Rick, Chubb Rock, Afrikaa Bambaataa, Kurtis Blow and Grandmaster Flash out of the box and watching everyone jump up like nutters. It ended up as quite clearly my favourite gig of '08 so far, and I got a recording of my whole set, the highlights of which are already available as an mp3 download, with the links on the Myspace homepage - www.myspace.com/therealmarkdevlin Check it out if you can. … and that was April.
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