Dancing DJs
Let’s do a mad lib, shall we:
A DJ is a _______________(Role)
A DJ performs for ________________(Whom)
A DJ creates music that _________________ (Outcome)
I’ve only known two DJs; the guy that played CDs at our wedding and a guy from college that ripped music off the internet before they shut down Napster. Also, I don’t ‘club’ in either it’s noun or verb forms. The only ‘clubs’ I know involve t-shirts and fundraisers. Sorry. Admittedly, my sample size is small, so my responses to the mad lib may be limited, but here’s what I thought: (1) performer (2) parties (3) makes people want to dance.
Then I went to a conference. This was not a professional conference with booths and plenary sessions, but a gathering of a few hundred like-minded people to learn from one another.
I arrived to the morning session early one day. I misread the start time and wasn’t feeling social enough to ’network’, so I took a seat and let the coffee do its magic. There was music in the background and I realized that the selections were not simply someone’s Spotify account on autopilot. Instead, a DJ stood stage right, head cocked at 45 degrees, precariously holding his ear to his headphones in that way that only DJs do. I thought this might be a soundcheck or something because volunteers were still straightening rows of chairs, then I saw the DJ bounce. And then he bobbed. Then there was a juke and a jive. He was dancing. Certain I’d missed an introduction I looked around to see if the balloons had dropped from the ceiling yet and I realized I was the only one in the ballroom.
Then I felt awkward. Was I supposed to dance like DJ Toe Tappa? Was this performance for me? How should I respond in a concert for one?
Then I realized it didn’t matter because DJ Graphic Tee wasn’t playing for me. I’m not even sure he knew I was there. Rather, he played for himself.
This DJ was a musician that plays for himself who creates music that makes him want to dance. As the songs passed, others trickled in and he became increasingly aware that his audience was growing. Yet nothing changed: he still bobbed and bounced until some guy with a sign told him it was time to fade into the background.
DJ Necko Roboto played for himself. Onlookers were the reward, but the music was for him. Short of additional speakers and a fog machine, I’d bet his performance on this particular Friday morning closely resembled his performance the following Saturday night.
As the day went on, I learned more about the man behind the trucker hat and tattoos. His is a reputation of integrity: audience or no, he’s a musician and a husband and dances because it’s what makes him alive.
If dancing DJs perform for themselves (or their God as was the case with DJ ICTHUS), then to whom am I ‘performing' when I lead meetings or give performance reviews. DJ No Belt was not performing, he was living. While the project status report won’t exactly cause an outbreak of the Boot Scootin’ Boogie, I do think I can serve well, as if to my audience of One.