THE man looks angry. Super pissed. He stinks of nicotine and bad life choices and his spittle is spraying my face with the off-caramel smell of Woodstock Bourbon and Coke.
He’s right in my face, grey-flecked stubble rubbing against my headphones.
“What kind of DJ doesn’t have the Macarena?” he interrobangs in my ear, eyes wild, tie at half-mast.
“Sorry mate. Didn’t bring it.”
“Seriously,” he says, shoving his mate next to him as if he’s me. He walks off in a huff, throwing daggers at me for the next hour. As if this guy would even do the Macarena.
I’m at Luna Park. It’s a wedding for a friend of a friend. It’s 11pm and the dancefloor is lively. The interloper is a mosquito to swat away. It happens a lot and I mostly don’t let it affect me.
Why? Because I moonlight as a wedding DJ. You have to have thick skin.
CAHILL GRILL: CHARLES RUSHFORTH
It’s a nice side-hustle. I’ve been lucky enough to do plenty of incredible gigs over the past 18 years, including a bucket list moment as the Interstitial DJ at Meredith Music Festival 2015. It ranks as the best thing that’s happened to me, outside of procreation with my life partner.
But weddings are the ker-ching moment, they’re lovely and that’s what we’ll focus on today, class. It’s either the most overpaid or underpaid job, depending on the venue, the crowd and myriad other factors we’ll discuss as I take you into the (dramatic drumroll, dry ice, airhorns) confessions of a wedding DJ.
WHERE IT ALL BEGAN
I WAS a crap DJ for a long time. I didn’t attend a college of knowledge, I learnt the ropes by spinning badly at mates’ houses on Technics 1200 turntables, usually cross-fading two vinyl records with little panache. A cacophony.
The result is known in the industry as a “car-crash mix”. I prefer “helicopters landing”.
I stuck at it, watched how the pros do it and bought CD turntables that tell you the tempo of each song: the bpm (beats per minute).
The key to keeping any dancefloor moving is one thing: momentum. And, OK, one more: make sure girls are dancing. That’s a generalisation because generalisations are generally spot on.
It doesn’t hurt for the DJ to break the fourth wall and jump in front of the decks and do some Russian Cossack dancing, maybe give the groom a shoulder ride or pick up the bride and spin her around.
LET’S GET IT STARTED
OVER the years, I’ve accumulated all the gear necessary to play a party: three speakers, a mixer, two CDJs, a microphone, a vintage car horn, inflatable instruments (guitar, saxophone, giant microphone) and a wedding DJ’s best friend: a Spotify premium account. This is about $5000 all up. I charge between $1000 (mate’s rates) and $2200 for a wedding, depending how far I have to travel, how much work I anticipate the wedding will be and whether I think they’ll have head-caving guests who’ll insist on aggressive requests all night.
The best retort to someone who keeps hassling for songs is always, “Do you wanna have a go?” They’ll look cocky, then flustered, then (hopefully) leave me alone.
Not even a year ago I had the crowd from hell. They were shockers. Ninety per cent of them were plastered by 5.30pm. They asked for, no joke, more than 100 songs, often getting their requested jam, not dancing to it, instead badgering me for the next song while I was trying to mix. My spirit was broken by the end.
Perhaps I had it coming. My amp overheated halfway through the gig, killing the music for half an hour until a heroic guest drove to his house and brought back his fresh amp. The only thing keeping me warm on the way home was the wad of pineapples in my back pocket.
The other pay-off for DJing is increased interest from girls. I’ve been fortunate once or twice and that is all I will say. A gentlemen never tells.
Another perk? Tips. A drunk bloke gave me three crisp $100 notes and kept repeating one title “Bamboleo”. I complied. It was very well received. Thanks Gypsy Kings.
PLANNING PREVENTS …
I USUALLY meet up with the bride and groom a month out from the big day to go over the big moments: the entrance song, first dance, bouquet tossing, the grand exit song.
Recently, I was asked by a hip-hop-loving bride to play Move B---- Get Out Da Way by Ludacris for the bouquet toss. Usually it’s Beyonce’s Single Ladies. At least once per wedding a punter will approach the decks with a request so random I simply have to play it (if it fits), such as the viral Trololo Song by Russian singer Eduard Khil. Classic.
I always ask if there any no-go songs. Recently I was poached by an Egyptian pal to DJ his post-nuptials. I queried him on tunes he didn’t want to hear, say Gangnam Style by PSY?
“Are you kidding? My wife is South Korean, we wanna hear Gangnam Style at least three times.” For the record, I complied with their North Korean-like demands.
At a Greek wedding six months ago, I was told, “We need to do the Zorba dance.”
I found a good version on Spotify, cued it up and a bridesmaid led the room in opposite circles, built to a cheering peak, then I slammed in Pump Up The Jam by Technotronic. Basically, a 4/4 beat is needed any time after 10.30pm — it’s easy to dance to as it mimics the heartbeat. Remember that if you’re a budding wedding DJ. If you’re struggling, play any up-tempo Michael Jackson hit or New Order’s Blue Monday or Pharrell Williams’ Happy.
ALL TOGETHER NOW
SPEAKING of group participation, every wedding must be treated differently. Several couples stipulated certain songs were banned, such as The Chicken Dance by Werner Thomas.
One couple insisted The Chicken Dance be played for a late grandmother who would cut a rug when it came on and do all the daggy moves. Winner winner chicken spinner.
It usually works if the couple request one of the following: Nutbush City Limits, The Time Warp, The Bus Stop, Thriller, Apache (Jump On It) and, for the young ones, Harlem Shake and Watch Me (Whip/Nae Nae).
Fortnite’s popularity has changed wedding dancefloors. Kids do the Floss, Electro Shuffle and Orange Justice. And if you think Carlton’s dance from The Fresh Prince has largely been relegated to 40th birthdays, you’re wrong. It’s simply called Fresh now and has had a resurgence since Fortnite blew up. I can confirm The Worm is still alive and well and most impressive when executed by a female.
FIRST TIME’S A CHARM?
I’M making it sound like I kill it every time, but that’s not the case. The first wedding I DJed, I was greener than Kermit. It was 2006, a mate’s big day and I hired some equipment, burned a bunch of CDs, then headed to the Otway Forest.
The dancefloor took off around 9pm and things got loose. I was into slamming techno and thought after Love Shack by The B-52s it’d be time to play something you’d hear in a dank German nightclub at 128 beats per minute. I lost the dancefloor, then got them back with Girls Just Wanna Have Fun by Cyndi Lauper.
“Thanks a lot for ruining my wedding,” uttered the bride during a terse pub meal three months later. Tensions were high.
She later apologised profusely. They’re now divorced. It’s fine. I’m still close to both of them and they’re happy with new partners (phew).
For the record, my strike rate is 40 weddings, only two divorces.
READING THE ROOM
THERE’S a bunch of variables at play when you’re in charge of the music at a wedding. All eyes are on the couple, all ears on you.
Sometimes everyone needs a breather. I watched a packed dancefloor of 50 turn into tumbleweeds when I dropped Daft Punk’s Around The World. The aircon was on the blink and everyone hit a CBD alleyway for 10 minutes then returned and went straight back into full swing. NB: Around The World has never failed since.
Sometimes I’ll get lucky and a surprise belly dancer will turn up. This happened at the Korean/Egyptian wedding. She danced for 40 minutes and flirted with everyone. I stood back. A guy asked, “Can we have the mic please, the Egyptians want to say, ‘Aiyiyiyiiiiii’?” I complied. Talk like an Egyptian!
Sometimes you get a raw deal from the get-go. I DJed my brother Tom’s wedding in Brighton and the wedding planner didn’t even turn up. It was a shambles. The dancefloor picked up at 10pm and everything was cooking, then as the night was peaking, a staff member hit a kill-switch and the music died in the middle of Amy Winehouse’s Valerie.
Or there was the time I DJed at The Substation in Newport, a former power station, the emphasis on “former”. I started setting up at 4.15pm — cutting it a little fine for the 5pm ceremony, sure, but what could go wrong?
I had everything ready to roll with a Yeah Yeah Yeahs song for the walk down the aisle. There was just one thing missing: electricity. Expectant faces were staring holes in the back of my head for 10 minutes until the yellow lights finally came on and we were away.
It’s a pressure cooker environment, trying to keep a whole room happy with wildly differing ages and tastes. The biggest thing is believing in every song you play.
Now I have earned your trust, I can tell you I did have Los del Rio’s La Macarena that night. The reason I didn’t play it was threefold: 1. The bride didn’t request it; 2. The groom didn’t request it; 3. The guy requesting it was a jerk.
TOP WEDDING DJ WEAPONS
We Are Family — Sister Sledge
Two tribes coming together to be unified under a disco groove. Galvanising.
Let’s Dance — David Bowie
The funk will save any party. Bowie tells people what they should be doing.
Hey Ya! — OutKast
Break in case of emergency. The call and response during the fellas’ and ladies’ bits still sounds as modern as tomorrow.
Uptown Funk feat Bruno Mars — Mark Ronson
A gift from the gods for every wedding DJ.
Groove is in the Heart — Deee-Lite
I got booed by three popped collar douchebags at a rooftop wedding in the CBD for dropping this. It hurt.
Psycho Killer — Talking Heads
It’s all about everyone screaming “AYE YIY YIY!” This resonated with the Egyptians.
Gold Digger — Kanye West
There’s nothing like a heaving wedding reception shouting, “We want prenups, WE WANT PRENUPS.”
I Love It feat Charli XCX — Icona Pop
Mixes well with the equally ferocious Where’s Your Head At by Basement Jaxx.
Love is in the Air — John Paul Young
Kate Ceberano described this song perfectly: “It’s in the key of aspiration.”
The Horses — Daryl Braithwaite
It’s not getting old anytime soon. Peak singalong moment for second last song.
Praise You — Fatboy Slim
The line “We’ve come a long long way together, through the hard times and the good” hits home. And by the end of the song everyone is recreating the film clip. Bonkers.
AVOID AT ALL COSTS — UNLESS the BRIDE OR GROOM GIVE
THE GREEN LIGHT
Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go — Wham!
I had a bloke arrogantly request this at a party recently. “It’s too cheesy, it’ll cheapen the vibe,” I said, holding my ground. His wife spilt her red wine on his chinos and they left.
Barbie Girl — Aqua
Just no.
Angel is a Centrefold — J. Geils Band
The mere thought of this song is like nails on a blackboard. I had to play it for the crowd from hell.
Why — Carly Simon
This is the greatest electronic reggae song ever recorded and Nile Rodgers’ mitts are all over it, but the chorus is a bad omen for matrimony: “Why does your love hurt so much?”
You Oughta Know — Alanis Morissette
It’s a banger but it’s bitter. Banned.
Tweet your wedding hits here: @joeylightbulb
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