Written by Owen Elis

"Got any New Order?" "No, sorry." "OK, what about Tiger & Woods?" "Ahh, I forgot that one." "OK, what have you got?" "Well, stuff like what I'm playing…" "Oh, right."

A well-timed or nicely thought-out request can elicit a positive, even enthusiastic response from the DJ, but the reality is that most of the time, it involves the person wanting to impose his drunken choice on a room full of people and asking again and again to try to get his request reconsidered. Then, after ten requests of totally unconnected music, he asks, "Well, can I have a look what have you've got?" which I often respond to by getting out my dick and putting it on the turntable. OK, I don't really. But sometimes I wish I did.

Requests, however, are part and parcel of being a DJ, and in an overcrowded Mecca like Berlin, you take the opportunities given you. Until I have become a super producer, label mogul, or Rinse FM presenter, inane requests by people who seem to hate music are the kind of thing you just have to deal with — like the time I was asked by a girl for some "black music" whilst laying down what I thought was a pretty slick selection of dub, reggae, and African rhythms. When I mentioned that as far as I knew Jimmy Cliff was pretty black she just rolled her eyes as if she was speaking to the village idiot. "I meant like Justin Timberlake," she said, at which point I was literally too shocked to even laugh. And then she just stood there, staring at me evilly as if I was personally responsible for ruining her evening. I wish I had...

But it's not all bad, of course — or I wouldn't keep doing it. For every "Get this fucking weird shit off. Now!", there are the little notes like "Loving the music; don't stop!" or the overheard "…but I don't want to leave! This music is great!" — or just the primal pleasure of seeing a room full of people lose their shit to music you love. That's what makes it worth it. I may not be the best DJ in the world — or Berlin (or Kreuzberg — probably not even Rixdorf), but I can pretty much guarantee if you are paying money to see me play (even if you don't know it's me, and it's just one euro on your drink), I am playing records I have gone without food to buy, missed my girlfriend's birthday to find, and am now thinking about nothing else apart from how to fit them all together in a way that will enhance your evening, maybe by playing you something you haven't heard before or playing a record you have heard but in a context you didn't expect. Either way, I am only trying to make you happy in my own admittedly narcissistic way. Try to remember that the next time you ask for some Nirvana or Dire Straits (I kid you not) at an after-hours party.

Signing off for now. Owen Elis

Taken from SLIM Mag September Issue