There are moments when a piece of music doesn’t just play.
It picks you up by the collar, launches you through time and plants you in the middle of a magical memory.
For me, this music is always euphoric trance. I’m not talking about that background audible wallpaper you hear in gyms or overpriced juice bars, but real, soaring Sasha & Digweed trance. The kind that makes your heart expand and your knees forget their age.
Why am I telling you this? Well, I guess each and every one of us has a ‘thing’ and it’s perfectly acceptable to publicly embrace it. This wonderfully emancipating pastime (whatever it is for you) will almost certainly free you from the shackles of your inbox and do something transcendental.
Now, I’m over 50. I play Speedgolf. I’ve googled “how to become a stand-up comedian” more times than is healthy and have recently found myself watching DJ tutorials on YouTube at 1.20am whilst eating Mini Cheddars. This, I suspect, is my midlife crisis. But instead of buying a Porsche, I’m dreaming of DJ decks and wondering if I can sneak a fog machine into the garden shed.
Music has always been the shortcut to joy for me. You can’t listen to Shiver by Summit and Hayla and not feel something. Partly this is awe. Partly, you’re left wondering what exactly is going on and it’s much the same with Adagio for Strings. First written by Barber, but now found pulsating through the hands of Tiësto, William Orbit, Ferry Corsten and let’s not forget the Croatian cellist, Hauser (who plays it under waterfalls with the intensity of someone solving world peace one bow stroke at a time.)
Somewhere between Kraftwerk and Canon in D, dance music emerged like a glorious Frankenstein’s monster; stitched together from classical roots, drum machines and late-night genius. It’s the sound of humanity trying to express something bigger than itself. Most interestingly, the older I get, the younger it makes me feel. I can feel a trip to Miami for the Ultra Music festival coming sometime soon.
Of course, being a DJ has some similarities with teaching. Beyond the fame and the fireworks, at the heart of it is an ability to read a room. It’s about knowing when to drop Barber, Hardcastle or The Frog Chorus (if you’re feeling brave). Swap your hundreds of arm-raising trance disciples for 15 Geography students and the requirements are similar. Read the room, drop the killer facts when your audience is ready and watch the magic unfold.
They say God is a DJ. If so, I’m applying for a part-time internship. No pay. Just the chance to press play on the perfect track, at the perfect moment and make the world feel just a little more alive. I invite you to join me and who knows? Maybe one day I’ll mix a set beside a waterfall.
Yours,
Adam
