So how do I start this?
It's been three months since I last worked for the Crazy Horse in Adelaide. Since then things have been running slow. I've applied for over 50 jobs, a lot of rejections and no interviews. Some days it's hard to keep a positive attitude and outlook seeing the rest of the world move on without me. Money's pretty tight, I owe people money and pretty soon I'll have a tax bill to pay. The future is uncertain.
I read in my Facebook feed that the roof bar at The Horse is completed and opening tomorrow. Didn't think it would affect me at all however it's a strange unsettling sensation being on the outside looking in. The club is moving on, once more mutating into some sort of high end modern day burlesque arena and good luck to it. It's a worthwhile concept but one which I wouldn't fit into now.
My DJ days are over now. My dismissal from the Crazy Horse didn't come as so much a surprise as a disappointment but inevitable conclusion. My last night working behind the desk was one of the worst shifts I worked as I engaged in a bitter war between audience and performers siding with the crowd in front of me. Trying to entertain the punters as they demanded (literally, they were coming up to the DJ box complaining about the music and demanded that I changed it), I ended up in a confrontation with some of the dancers who let it be known to me in a, um, forceful manner they didn't appreciate my input or suggestions. I had pre-packed my things and made a firm decision to walk out right then if I could somehow manage to escape without being detected. When the only option is the front door in front of bouncers and owners of the club, it makes the art of making a stand a bit hard to perform. I was really in no mood for a Hindley Street brawl centred around myself.
But... I kind of wished I had now, to make a statement and bask in it's notoriety. "You know that DJ Dazz just fucking walked out in the middle of the show? Can you believe that? What a (insert choice of crass noun here)!". To say to everyone in the aftermath that I raised my middle finger to the whole club and industry and make sure I was never going to work in Hindley Street ever again due to my impertinence. What a fitting conclusion to the realm of DJ Dazz! What bragging rights!
Alas, history shows that I was told I was no longer required to work at the club. Those last eighteen years ended with not a bang or statement of some sort but the empty fizzing sound of a fire cracker extinguished before it had chance to take flight.
Do I miss the job? Not so much performing the task at hand of introducing the ladies onto the stage or wondering what song to play next, usually with a maximum of 90 seconds to decide. Too much pressure and stress to get it absolutely right and God forbid my state of mind if I got it ever so slightly wrong. Looking back with hindsight, I wasn't that a good DJ; I just got very lucky sometimes. As for my MC skills, that was just an imitation of the countless radio DJs I grew up listening to, back when disc jockeys were fully qualified music nerds who had an inner longing to share with everybody their first love: music. Today's radio seems to be full of comedians and sport celebrities, none which have the passion for what they play (well that's my opinion and sharing opinions is what blogs are for). I could mix sometimes but the modern DJ art of key changes, dropping in samples etc... that didn't interest me (but I will say I was impressed with some of the new DJs on the Adelaide scene, they were less impressed with my age and that I was doing it at all).
I do miss the people, terribly. Well some of the people, there are a few I have no wish to ever be in contact with ever again. I take comfort in the fact that those people will never go out of their way to give me a passing thought anyway. That's life.
As for the people I don't see now on a weekly basis and whose company I enjoyed and treasured, they are continuing with their professional lives, still being involved in the bohemian nightlife that the seedy underbelly of Adelaide offers (actually it's not that seedy, only to people who never go out and indulge in it; for those working within, it's just a job). Every now and then I try to summon up the nerve to get in some sort of contact with them, ask how everything is going and ask the self-indulgent question of whether they miss me or not. However realising their waking hours are now the opposite of mine and they still have to deal with the day-to-day running of lives, I resist that temptation and let Facebook due it's daily duty of status updates to make sure I keep in some sort of touch.
I guess all this sprung to mind when I saw the Facebook updates about the new rooftop bar at The Crazy Horse. It unsettled me, like seeing a picture of an ex who is now happily married with children as you are sitting on the couch in faded t-shirt and track pants with the stinging sound of an empty house in your ears. I'll admit that some of my days are like that, sometimes by choice. That's the reason I started blog writing again, to have a conversation about myself with the screen hoping the screen will allow some self feedback.
Anyway there was lots more I wanted to write about but those thoughts can be saved for another blog another time. It's now lunchtime on this cold cold day and I need to eat and hear some good uplifting/interesting music.
Oh that's one thing I don't miss at all from the club days: some of those bloody God awful tunes I had to play! See? You can find a positive in everything
