I have an addiction. A proper addiction. It’s untreatable. There is no cure. I am a junkie. I hang around in darkened alleys, change jingling in my pocket, waiting for the dealer’s shop to open. I rush in and start filtering through the shelves. I am a vinyl junkie and record stores are where I score my fix. It’s a strange addiction, I know. People laugh and don’t recognise the condition. But it exists, I swear. Black plastic gives me a buzz. Has done since I was ten years old. All of my spare money goes on this disgusting habit. But it’s beautiful. I love needles in the groove and the sound of dustmites crackling in the speakers. Vinyl is not just a habit, it is a passion. People think that DJing is all about glamour. They read in their glossy clubbing magazines about Paul Oakenfold, Sasha and John Digweed, touring the world, hanging out in swanky nightclubs and getting paid a small fortune for doing so. I tell you – they suffer the same craving as any other proper DJ. They like nothing more than getting their hands dirty, flicking through record racks, in search of that ultimate rarity. The picture disc, the deleted album, the white label. DJing isn’t just a technical ability. As a technical skill it’s actually quite easy. If you can count you can beatmatch. Simple as. Anyone can flick a crossfader. The art of DJing is to inject passion into your skill. Selecting tunes for the audience, to educate and entertain is the artform. Danny Tengalia wrote quite a few years ago about ‘finding the groove’. He performed marathon ten hour DJ sets and therefore should truly understand a dancefloor. It’s all about seaming tunes together in a constant groove. To do that, you need to know your music inside out. A DJ I once worked with, Anthony Pappa, impressed me a lot. He had risen to stardom by winning the DMC Mix championship. I warmed up for him and was pleased to do the honour. He arrived, same as any other professional DJ, courteous, nice greeting, appreciative nod to the sounds you were spinning. He then cast open his box, to prepare his set. DJs are nosy animals and I couldn’t help looking at his tunes. They were all marked up with stickers. I’d seen BPM labelling previously, but Pappa’s was different. They…
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