And we your humble acolytes are honoured that you should bestow this honour upon us. Truly, we are not worthy.
BTW, you should have been at my gig last night. Never mind six bottles of Moretti, we had two barrels!
My gig? A curate's Egg.
One that fell into my lap as a result of a chance meeting. I went to a client meeting at a venue, and met another DJ setting up early for a wedding. It became obvious that our working practices and customer service models did not diverge much. Thus, when he got an enquiry he couldn't fill, he passed it on to me. Sod's law dictates that having agreed this booking, a quote for a very nice gig was accepted, and I couldn't take that. It was ever thus.
Anyway, to the gig I took. Housewarming and birthday in a Tipi in a back garden, in a very salubrious area near Hull. Very salubrious. How salubrious was evident when I saw what was laid on for this one. Sadly, due to the Tipi only going up Friday afternoon, I couldn't do a site visit first. Working on the principle, " be prepared ", I turned up mid afternoon with over two full rigs in the van.
Shame about the site visit, I didn't even need a whole rig. One Maui, Micron booth ( I'm growing to love that booth. Carried over the shoulder, including overhead. ) and three lights. Sorted.
Well the kit was easy, but access wasn't. All carried by hand a long way, with steps. All bags and cases had to be returned to the van, cos there was nowhere to hide them, so loaded both ways of the journey. The power socket I tried initially was useless, so I was shown one which had more that a couple of milliamps of current available. ( When one DMX controller, and two Hadrons make the power indicator light go out, you know you have problems )
I got all set up, and went into a nearby shopping centre for supplies, to return early for the music. Blimey, when I got back, the Tipi was ram full! Guests had started arriving before I left, and were wall to wall when I got back. Kicked off with some background music, and ramped it up gradually. Midnight was the theoretical finish time, and by ten, we were well into party zone. The copious of free alcohol they'd been necking since four that afternoon, may have had an effect.
Thing was, we had folk my age asking for Abba and 60's, client's mates thirties to forties wanting eighties and chart ( beware asking me randomly for "chart music ", Baby Shark and This is Me are currently in the charts, so be careful what you wish for, guests. ) and some surprisingly well behaved and pleasant young lads mainly wanting Indie Anthems. It was a case of playing three or four from each group on rotation, and I'm ashamed to say, when their music wasn't on, the oldest folk were the least receptive and amenable. The lads were Golden, no trouble. Just goes to show.
We roared past midnight, and the overtime clause came into play. Looks like I'll have meat in my sandwiches this week. I packed up at 1am, having been paid well for my efforts, fed and watered, in beautiful surroundings. ( Biggest mirrorball I've ever seen in the Tipi! )
The Curate's Egg. For those of you who aren't familar, or didn't Google it: " Parts of it are not at all bad ".
Good bits: Surroundings, small kit, ( fairly ) appreciative crowd, good pay.
Bad bits: Being undervalued by guests and clients. I'm a Professional, supplying a professional product. I do have music more recent than the 70's, and I do have Rock Around The Clock. I do lay chart music, and if you'd been listening earlier, I already played half of the Top 40 before you decided that I was playing my favourite songs, rather than requests from the other guests.
I'm not just doing this for fun, I supply a professional service, with reliable, professional kit, and yes, even though I'll never see twenty one again, cough, cough, I possess lots of modern and chart music, and if you request it, or it seems to be the most appropriate thing to play, I'll happily play it. That's what professionals do.
Sounds like I really had a grim night, but in fact, it really was good overall. Just a lot of folk who really managed to grind my gears.