This has been an exciting day or two indeed. There is MUCH more to come from this, keep your eyes peeled.
I miss Daria…
… and sick sad world.
Hates having to check facebook to find out she already has a boyfriend…
Why don’t people wear badges?
Back in the early naughties Fatboy was king, Tiesto the master of all he surveyed and Pete Tong was a part of the english vernacular. Dance music was mainstream, no longer limited to the warehouses and underground clubs. FAC51 had died and Slinky’s was on the way out. Fabric, Turnmills and Ministry of Sound were more popular than ever and DJ’s were big news.
As the naughties wore on, the scene changed and although dance music remained popular, there was a great resurgence of music of a brit pop fashion with The Kooks, Snow Patrol and Coldplay taking centre stage.
Now we are just about to enter the teenies, a phrase I already hate and despise myself for using, and dance music is making another big come back with superstar DJs like Skrillex, Deadmau5, Rusko and David Guetta.
There are those who are still fighting the good fight and those who have sold the fuck out and are making a mockery of the art form I subscribe to. Today, I was trawling around the social networks looking for something to read and I came across some scary stuff, stuff that I knew was probably happening but had no evidence of and not enough to make me write about it.
Stanton Warriors, legends of breakbeat, posted a screenshot of an ebay page selling 1000 votes for the DJMag top 100 DJs competition, a discussion ensued and soon the evidence started to pile up against a number of DJ’s who seem to be buying their popularity. This is another screenshot that has been floating around the internet for a few weeks now showing evidence suggesting some of the worlds most popular DJs have been buying likes on facebook. There are websites dedicated to buying likes and fans on facebook which is a complete violation of facebook policies and a huge violation of our trust as fans of dance music and fellow DJs.
Part of me wants to say sack it and keep doing what I’m doing, these DJ’s are the ones pandering to popularity, the ones who are adored by 14 year old girls but hated by the historians and librarians of the dance music scene, despised by the raver elite. The other part of me is jealous of their popularity and disgusted at the underhanded tactics used to get themselves to the heady heights of Superstar DJdom…
So where do we go from here? I’ll take the advice offered to me by the Stanton boys “fake facebook likes doesn’t bring people to your gigs.”
I am a DJ because I LOVE to spin records, the sheer joy of placing wax on felt and feeling the pull of the motor on the tips of my fingers. The textural crackle of the stylus running in the groove and the first amplified thud of the beat kicking in, the tactile sounds produced by vinyl are literal and metaphorical music to my ears. These simple pleasures are what makes DJing important to me, something MP3 DJs will never experience, something that bedroom producers turned superstars will never know. The sheer elation of your soul when two tracks previously unencountered cross faders for the first time and you smash it like a perfect on streetfighter, the build up comes, the bassline drops and the crowd goes wild. There may only be 50 sweating bodies in a grimey club on the outskirts of nowhere but for that moment, you are a Superstar DJ and nobody can those moments away from you.
I’m not going to be bitter about it, as DJs come and DJs go, we know who will stand the test of time. Skrillex will fade away as commercial dubstep dies its inevitable death, Avicii will exist only on party compilation albums and David Guetta will be forgotten by todays 14 year olds as they grow up and discover a new world of real dance music.
The difference between the superstars of today and yesterday is that Fatboy et al will go down in history, people will still be playing ‘praise you’ in 20 years time. If your fans are fake, who is going to be there to remember you.
What a crazy few weeks… there has been joy, pain, despair, love and beauty all wrapped up into the space of a month.
This has truly been living.
The month started out desperately, on the breadline, living off pasta and a free bag of oven chips, working 15 hour days with no time off, no tv, no internet and no phone. You gotta pay the rent, feed the man, forget your own hunger and get yourself back in the black. That’s what grown ups do… My own desperation was compounded by misconception of a situation, when you’ve been single as long as I have, you learn not to jump at the chances without assessing the situation first, it stops you getting hurt. This time that didnt happen as planned, I jumped in head first to a whole river of madness. I thought I was doing the right thing by making my feelings known, but that was not so… Should have kept my mouth shut for a while longer, maybe then I wouldn’t have put my foot in it.
As the days wore on, work got quieter and started to pay for itself, I had shown myself that I could live like that if I needed to again, hopefully I wont but you never know where you will end up. It was a growing experience that shrank both my debts and my waistline.
Desperation turned to contentment. Contentment into joy. More than a year ago, two of the most beautiful souls I’ve had the pleasure of sharing with decided they would get married. Stef was pissed up when he asked Aggy, she too was less than sober and so she agreed, the morning after, they both recalled the night before and realised that it wasn’t the worst idea they’d ever had.
So a few weeks ago, I got on a train and headed to Stratford on Avon for a weekend of new friends, new families and precious memories.
I felt very privileged to be there, I knew almost nobody but that didn’t matter, it felt like I was surrounded by old friends. I left the wedding weekend behind me and I headed for London feeling great.
This good feeling continued on throughout the next few days, I saw some close friends and had a job interview that went incredibly well. Not just did the interview go well but I met the most beautiful little spark there, even if I never see her again, the short conversation we had on the train back to London was something that has stuck with me. I love meeting people like that, those who are so different from the rest of society that you can’t help but be attracted to them like moths to a flame. I hope I see her again.
When I got back to London, I went to get my train back to Exeter and everything had been cancelled due to the horrendous weather we had been hit with in the UK. I wasn’t upset, I got to hang out with my mum for a day, see my sister and my niece briefly and just slow things down for a day. It gave me a chance to catch up with myself.
I got back to Exeter looking forward to a busy week ahead with some fun thrown in, I was heading to my favourite job at the end of the week, we had a party planned with the pizza oven and some great friends and the weather was looking up. It all passed off without a hitch, the party was great, the week at work wasn’t too hectic and this week, I headed back to bath and west show ground for my favourite job of the year.
I hadn’t been at the festival for too long when I heard some devastating news from back in Exeter. One of my friends, the best friend of both of my housemates died in his sleep. Luke was a legend of note, he was always happy to help, he could always make you laugh, he had genuine respect for his fellow man and he will be sorely missed by all that knew him. Its still not sunk in yet, Luke was at my house a week ago enjoying pizza in the garden with the rest of the crew, little did I know, I’d never see my friend again.
I’ve felt a little confused about the whole situation, almost guilty for being sad about Luke’s death, whilst I counted Luke as a friend, he was so much closer to both my housemates. They went to school together, grew up in the same village and were still close as adults, Luke was a regular visitor to our house. I met Luke about 6 years ago and have enjoyed knowing him for that time, I don’t want to get in the way of their grief, yet I still feel saddened by the loss… I’m sure there is no right or wrong way to feel but feeling confused is more difficult than I could ever have imagined.
Fuck… I’ve been fucking misconstrued.
I got caught up in the conversation, we were both being flirtatious and pushing the boundaries of where our relationship was. One word can be written and taken to heart and another can be lost in the noise of the traffic flying backwards and forwards between each others mailboxes.
This was to be a part of my downfall. I said what I said, I remember saying it, there is absolutely no denying it but that’s not the bit she was supposed to hold on to, that’s not the bit she should have taken away with her. Carnal and fling were not the words I expected to linger in her thoughts. The prospect of a sex fuelled, short lived summer is intriguing but would only lead to the debasement of our friendship, I have far too much respect for her. I said a thousand other things that meant so much more than that one throwaway comment. I learnt later that it was less tongue in cheek and more foot in mouth.
As far as she is concerned, those are my intentions. I know that now. That’s my fucking ‘now’ now…
WHAT A MAROON!!?
Who tells the girl of his dreams that he only wants a casual shag? From the minute I met her I was fucking doomed. My downfall was built into the foundations of our relationship.
We met unceremoniously at a play we were both involved in. I was doing everything technical and she was one of the performers. As a side note, I NEVER do theatre, EVER. I have my reasons; this particular show just cemented those reasons. I was told by some members of the cast about a girl, I call her Filou. Filou was a thorn in the side of the production, she was sleeping with the producer, trying to take numbers from other cast members and she needed to be taken down a peg or two. Put in her place as it were. That was wrong. I still get the impression that I’m making up for that now. Despite how far we have come and what we know of each other, the trust that we have built in each other took a beating before we even gave each other a proper chance.
From the minute I met her, I felt bad about the way I was treating her but it kept her attention and she could give as good as she got and to my knowledge, she deserved it.
My allegiances with the people who forewarned me of filou no longer exist. They fell apart last year when I learnt of how acerbic teenage girls can be, to each other and to others around them. I hate myself for being so nasty, I feel like an idiot for the way I was used. I’m ashamed of myself. I used my own inflated ego against somebody else to make them feel small. I am a despicable human being.
Despite what I thought I knew about Filou, I couldn’t help but be drawn to her. Something bit me the first time I saw her and as much as I wanted to show myself to her, I let my ego and my allegiances keep that from happening. There was something about the name calling that kept the attention going between us, I was certain that she’d see through it and I hoped she wouldn’t take me seriously. I was wrong again.
We both left the country and went back to our respective corners of the globe, over the next few months I couldn’t help but keep up the ridiculous charade over facebook. It was getting her attention and that’s what mattered. I had no idea she was taking the insults and the name calling to heart, her responses gave me no clue to that, she was as abusive as I was and all I could do was laugh.
Through one incident and the next, our relationship changed and we started to treat each other with civility and care. She let me in to some pretty huge and damaging secrets she had been keeping to herself, we spoke for hours and I did my best to be the supportive friend. Nothing is more important to me than my friends, she had become a close one despite now being a million miles away. The distance is what you make it and to me she was closer than ever.
We spoke more and more over the next couple of months and I came to rely on her company. All my friends live somewhere else and I spend a lot of time on my own, a friend who will talk to me all night online is as good a friend as any so I thought. I was wrong. It turns out that it’s just me who forms emotional bonds through a literary conversation. That was to be another string to my downfall bow.
The final nail in the coffin in the pursuit of Filou is a nail called captain america. I know nothing about captain america aside from the fact that he has a stupid name. Over the last 6 months, I’ve heard him mentioned a couple of times, as far as I was aware, it wasn’t serious or something she was particularly wild about. I was wrong. She had recently gotten out of a long relationship and she had told me she wasn’t looking for anything from anybody. Her status never changed, he never posts on her wall and from the tiny perspective I have on her life, he doesn’t really factor in. I had no idea until yesterday that this guy was important to her, let alone her boyfriend. I’ve done some stupid things in my time and I have been the optimist in the face of absolute certain failure but I’ve never been so stupid as to get this close to someone without knowing how unsingle they were. I’ve never tried to compete with the boyfriend, that’s emotional suicide. He might be amazing. For her sake and his own, I hope he is.
I care about her too much to ruin the happiness she has with someone else. I don’t want to see her hurt again, she is more fragile than she would have you know. The things I said that I didn’t mean ended up as the loudest words in her head and the ones that have been screaming out in my own head have fallen on deaf ears. I have never met anybody before or since that I have been so wrong about so many times. Maybe that’s what’s keeping me up at night. The girl I met that night 2 years ago is the same girl today, she is in a whole new place but she is still the exciting, passionate, powerful, intelligent and righteous little Filou I fell for that same night. When you meet a girl like that, you’ll be convinced that she is the girl for you, I was, part of me still is but there is no happy ending at my end of the tale and I only have myself to blame. I was wrong so many times and I made a thousand mistakes.
She said something this morning about her friendship not being enough. I’ve thought about it and in a way, she is right but not in the way she thinks she is. Enough is satisfactory. Okay. Just about. Her friendship wasn’t enough, it was amazing and enticing and far beyond what I could ever have hoped for considering the grounds we started on. I went from being a figure of hate to being a trusted confident. It isn’t that her friendship isn’t enough it’s that her love is too much to ask.
When I told you I wanted a now with you, you had already decided what I meant that now to mean. You were wrong.
I haven’t had a computer for about a month now and today it got to the point where I had to write something. I wrote what came out and I suppose its about a girl who may or may not exist and how I may or may not feel about her… I suppose its fundamentally about me and my insecurities…
Where did she go? Am I that arsehole?
As much as a scenario plays through ones head, that no more or less makes it so. You have to take stock of a situation before you can pass judgement if you are going to pass judgement at all. So what’s the worst that’s actually happened so far, I’ve been stood up on a train, no biggie, it was forgiven as it happened, I’m an understanding guy, I just wish she had known I’d come to London to see her, everything else was a footnote to the weekend…
The line between showing your confidence and showing your fears is a difficult one to draw. In the long run, I am a happy and confident individual with all my faculties, I know I’m not bad looking and I do have a certain charm. I don’t struggle to attract the fairer sex and I don’t have any problems understanding or conversing with them either. Right now, I’m questioning myself and asking myself those questions that are all too easy to answer subjectively. Am I that arsehole? Normally, the answer would be no… I’m very much not that guy… Today has been different. I feel like that arsehole, she does something to me that I can’t help. She has done since the minute I met her…
If I want her to know anything, I’m not looking for a future, just a now with her… the storyboard of each others nows will turn into a future and perhaps we’ll be in the same pictures. I’d like that but I’m not counting on it. Just a now with her, whatever that now might be. Since she went quiet my now has missed her…
So what, I’m a slacker… I’ve been busy… not had too much time to do any tumbling recently. I’ve had some big jobs on and moving house too but things will settle down again in a week or so and I might be able to spend some more time writing.
If I could change anything about myself, I’d probably be an inch taller. Its bloody annoying when things are just that inch out of reach. I’m 5’10” on a warm day so I’m not short, I’m definitely not tall either. I’m not upset that I’m not tall but I struggle to find anything else that I’d like to change, it’s not something one should dwell on too much. If there is something you’d like to change because you’re overweight or unhealthy, then go for it, otherwise, don’t think about it too much. You’ll get a complex and it’ll eat you up.
Something you would change about the world.
If I could change absolutely anything about the world, I would change the people. I would give everybody 2 gifts, perspective and compassion.
If we lived in a world where we could see things from another’s perspective and were compassionate about their problems, we wouldn’t have to deal with capitalism, war, famine, corrupt governments, insurance companies, lawyers, estate agents, traffic wardens, soap operas, reality TV, internet bullies, murderers… etc etc etc… All the worlds ills would be eradicated if we would only wake up and CARE what we are doing to other people.
Even natural disasters wouldn’t affect people so badly if we cared about each other. Nobody would have lived in the lower 9th ward of new orleans because its unsafe. The levees wouldn’t have been built so low to save money, if we cared about each other, nobody would be putting profits in front of human life.
How do you think your life would change if you achieved your dream?
I know I haven’t really been taking this little thing seriously and making sure I post every day, like one or two others bloggers on tumblr, I have a life that isn’t based on the internet and I sometimes don’t get time to blog and some days I just choose not to. It’s not healthy to be on here all day everyday… hint hint… go outside… open the curtains… there is more to life than “vintage” pictures of jared leto and gifs from mean girls…
Like a lot of the blogs on here, I think the answer to the question is steeped in self indulgence. I’m getting a bit bored of self indulgence, I’m finding it harder and harder to stomach, not as a concept but as daily ritual. People have written journals for years and years but the major difference between a tumblr and a journal is that a tumblr is public. There are too many people who claim to live their life through their tumblr and they say things like ‘my tumblr knows me better than my parents’. When you make your thoughts public and receive responses based on those thoughts, the responses can all too easily become a validation for your thoughts. Your blog posts become less and less about you and more and more about getting validation. You start to reblog things from others because thats what’s in right now and slowly but surely, your personal journal which details your thoughts and intimacies becomes a standardised carbon copy of everybody else’s tumblr.
Hmmm… I feel as though I’m digressing a little here. I like to start with a heading and just see where the writing takes me, bear with me. I’m getting to a point…
Yeah, thats it… I knew it was round here somewhere… Just as your blog becomes a copy of everyone else’s, your dreams become the same washed out versions of pale insignificances that everyone else wants too. How will things change if everyone is trying to achieve the same thing?
I try and keep it simple when it comes to dreams and aspirations, I have the same dream I’ve had since I was 10. When I grow up, I want to be a stuntman. Dreams are the fabrications in our mind that we all need, if we achieve our dreams, we quickly get new ones.
There are many things that I have achieved that used to be dreams, so how has my life changed? What has happened is that my life has progressed down its path. I can’t ever switch paths and live a different life, I can only make my path change direction, the changes that happen aren’t necessarily quantifiable. I can’t say how my life has changed, I can only guess as to how it would be different had I not achieved some of the things I wanted to do.
If I had never learned to dive, I wouldn’t have worked at the London Aquarium, I wouldn’t have had a huge passion for the oceans that I do now.
If I had never learned to snowboard, I would never have travelled as much as I have, I wouldn’t have met some of the most amazing people alive, I wouldn’t spend as much time in the mountains.
If I never get to be a stuntman, I wont be too upset, I have achieved so much already and I know I have more to come.