Table Of ContentLast Night a DJ Saved My Live
The History of the Disc Jockey
Bill Brewster and Frank Broughton
Copyright © 1999, 2006, 2013 Bill Brewster and Frank Broughton The right of
Bill Brewster and Frank Broughton to be identified as the Authors of the Work
has been asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and
Patents Act 1988.
First published in 1999 by Headline Book Publishing Updated edition published
in paperback in 2006 by Headline Book Publishing This further updated edition
published in 2013
‘Whosoever knoweth the power of the dance, dwelleth in God.’
– Rumi, Persian dervish poet
‘Whosoever danceth not, knoweth not the way of life.’
– Jesus Christ, in a second century gnostic hymn
Custom-made double turntable built in 1955 by Edward P. Casey of the
Bronx, New York.
CONTENTS
ORIGINAL PREFACE
2013 PREFACE
1. INTRODUCTION
2. BEGINNINGS – RADIO
3. BEGINNINGS – CLUBS
4. NORTHERN SOUL
5. REGGAE
6. DISCO ROOTS
7. DISCO
8. HI-ENERGY
9. HIP HOP ROOTS
10. HIP HOP
11. US GARAGE
12. HOUSE
13. TECHNO
14. BALEARIC
15. ACID HOUSE
16. UK SOUNDS
17. ARTIST
18. OUTLAW
19. SUPERSTAR
20. SELL-OUT?
21. CLUB CHARTS
ORIGINAL PREFACE
‘A lot of DJs around now, they need to know about this stuff. Someone should
put a book together of all this and then we can give it to people and say, ‘‘read
this before you go DJing’’.’
– Ashley Beedle, DJ and producer
‘There’s not a problem that I can’t fix – ’cos I can do it in the mix.’
– Indeep, Last Night A DJ Saved my Life
The story of dance music resides in the people who made it. Or at least played it.
And guess what – most of them are alive and well and full of tall tales. We set
out to meet as many as possible and start them talking. Some are extremely
famous, some we didn’t know were still breathing. Some we found in the phone
book. Once we started asking questions, the nuggets came flooding out and we
were soon brimming with details no one else knew; finding connections that no
one had noticed. We were surprised that this story had never been told in full,
and along the way felt a sneaking pride that we would be the ones to do it.
Because, sadly, most writing about dance music just hasn’t stuck. We
keep on reading the same old repeated mistakes, the same well-worn myths, the
same poorly researched articles written completely without context. And we’re
just too thick to deal with the books that have copied all these together and used
them as the basis for a lot of abstract nonsense about postmodern intertextuality
and Hegelian Gesundfarbensextenkugelschreiber.
So being simple folk, we wrote a simple book. There are a few socio-
cultural theories in here, and we like to think we’ve done a pretty good job of
connecting things together and showing where they fit, but what you’re about to
read is mostly just great stories from people with big egos, explaining what they
did to change music.
We aimed to write a biography of dance music’s most important figure –
the disc jockey. Our story is of how the DJ’s job evolved and how the DJ has
been the driving force in popular music. In telling it we’ve concentrated on his
crazier years when he was shaking things up, and given less emphasis to his
recent behaviour now that he’s settled down and become respectable.
Given this emphasis, this is not a history of dance music itself (although it
nearly is). We didn’t have time or space to explore the creation of every last sub-
genre, so as we followed the evolution of dance music we set our limits with the
motto, ‘Remember the DJ’ and concentrated on the impact of his DJing role
rather than the changes he made purely as a producer. And don’t be disappointed
if your favourite jock doesn’t get a whole chapter to himself. We were looking
for whoever got there first, not necessarily the ones who were the best. There are
plenty of DJs who, while being amazing, talented artists that we know and love
and have danced to on many occasions, are only bit players in the big picture.
We had a lot of fun writing this book. If you’ve got this far you’ll
probably enjoy reading it. We’ll bet a dollar to a dime you’ll find things in it
which you didn’t know. And some of them might even make you laugh.
Hopefully, it can also go some way to counter the ignorance and snobbery
which still prevails in grown-up attitudes to dance music. It really is about time.
After all, when it comes to the development of music, the dancefloor has always
had more influence than the printed word.
Bill and Frank, London 1999
2013 PREFACE
The craft of DJing passed its centenary back in 2006; it’s the same age as
cornflakes. To celebrate this maturity we’ve completely updated our book,
fattened it up, and given it a natty new cover. The initial plan was just to extend
its shelf-life. Once we got started, however, the project grew and grew. It
became a chance, not only to bring things bang up to date, but also to pay more
attention to the European side of the story. In 1999 a few critics (well one,
thanks Dave) asked, ‘Where’s German techno? Where’s Italian disco? Where’s
Ibiza?’ We tried arguing that we’d written the story of the DJ, not the story of
dance music, and that DJing was a fully formed craft as early as the late
seventies. We also pointed to a crop of books about acid house and after, which
had gone into more depth than we’d ever have space for. Now, though, we’ve
filled those gaps, collected more intriguing tales and can present a much more
even-handed and comprehensive volume.
The story has moved on, too. In the USA the ‘EDM’ (Electronic Dance
Music) scene has finally put dance music into the mainstream of US pop culture,
at the same time taking the notion of DJ superstardom to preposterous new
levels. Pre-planned sets and stadium concerts are the norm and the big names
earn $150,000 for a night ‘pressing play’ and waving their arms around.
Thankfully, in the UK almost the opposite is true, and the arc of the DJ’s
biography has curved elegantly back down to earth. DJs are no longer
worshipped quite so unquestioningly, and most people now understand that
DJing is more about collecting great music than doing supernatural things with a
mixer.
When Last Night A DJ Saved My Life first came out many people were
confused by the idea of dance music history. Rock critics are still unlikely to
admit to our central thesis – that DJs are more important than bands when it
comes to radical shifts in music – but they have had to admit that the guy with
the record box has played an important role.
Finally, thanks to all of you who have said such nice things to us about the
book. We’re proud of how well-loved our baby has been. While it won’t exactly
secure us a table at The Ivy, it does give us something to talk drunkenly about at
parties. Here’s to Reginald Fessenden.
parties. Here’s to Reginald Fessenden.
Bill and Frank, London 2013
For more interviews, features, mixes and a lively forum of work-shy
trainspotters
www.djhistory.com
1. THANKS
And this one’s for…
Afshin, Vince Aletti, Julian Alexander, Ross Allen, Imogen Aylen, Pauline
Barlow, Alexia Beard, Rob Bellars, John Bland, Kool Lady Blue, Mr Blue, Paul
Byrne, Bob Casey, Phil Cheeseman, Matthew Collin, Stephanie Collin, Paulette
Constable, Michael Cook, DJ Cosmo, Andy Cowan, Jon Dasilva, Fritz and
Catherine Delsoin, Drew DeNicola, Ian Dewhirst, Job De Wit, Jeff Dexter, Dave
Dorrell, Roger Eagle, Kevin Ebbutt, Mick Eve, Sheryl Garratt, Adam Goldstone,
Malu Halassa, Donna Halper, David Hills, Omaid Hiwaizi, Nick Hornby, Chris
Hunt, Jempi, Danny Krivit, Steve Lau, Dave Lee, John McCready, Jon and
Helena Marsh, Mary Maxwell, Peta Nightingale, Paul Noble, Ella Oates, Sean P,
Elbert Phillips, Dom Phillips, Steve Phillips, Rebecca Prochnik, Sam Pow,
Angus Reid, Richard Reyes, Gonnie Rietveld, Toni Rossano, Kay Rowley,
Giovanni Salti, Alec Samway, Quinton Scott, Ranj Sehambi, Peter Shapiro,
Nicky Siano, Lindsay Symons, Spanky, Dave Swindells, Bruce Tantum, Tracy
Thompson, Koenraad Van Ennerseel, Frie Verhelst, Paul Ward, Emma Warren,
Judy Weinstein, Steve and Sylvia Weir, Lesleigh Woodburn, Carl Woodroffe,
Doug Young, Mike Zwerin And thanks to everyone who helped us set up
interviews
James @ Plan B, Shane O’Neill @ Universal, Greg Belson, Catherine
Mackenzie, DJ Geoffroy, Louise Oldfield and Liam J. Nabb, Matt Trollope, Phli
Mison and Clare Woodcock @ Get Involved, Indy @ Radio One, Barbara Deyo
@ Boldface Media, Corinna @ Soul II Soul, Yoko @ Axis, Jonas @ Electronic
PM, Mavis Price, Tosh @ Tam Tam Books, Lynn Cosgrave, Jonathan Green,
Josie James, Peter Kang, Kay-Gee, Lynn Li, JD Livingstone, Kevin McHugh,
Wayne Pollard, CB Shaw, Justin and Katrina @ 40dB, Vez and Wendy @
Ninjatune, Damian Harris @ Skint, Fran @ Strictly Rhythm UK, Aurelie and
Jody @ Wave Music.
And translations and interpreting
Louise Oldfield and Liam J. Nabb, David Colkett, Peter Hoste.
And all at Headline, especially
Emma Tait, Juliana Foster, Lucy Ramsey
Special thanks
Liz, Lola, Ferdie, Imogen and Honey
1. INTRODUCTION
You Should Be Dancing
‘You may shake your head, smile, mock, or turn away, but this dance madness
proves nonetheless that the man of the machine age with his necessary wrist
watch and his brain in a constant ferment of work, worry and calculation has just
as much need of the dance as the primitive. For him too the dance is life on
another plane.’
– Curt Sachs, World History of the Dance, 1937 – writing about the
tango
‘Music lives in time, unfolds in time. So does ritual.’
– Evan Eisenberg, The Recording Angel
Back when man was stumbling around the dusty savannahs figuring out the best
way to surprise a woolly mammoth, he found his experience divided sharply
between night and day. In the light he was a naked animal, prey to those greater
than him; but once darkness fell he joined the gods. Under the star-pierced sky,
with flaming torches smearing his vision and armies of drummers hammering
out a relentless beat, he ate some sacred roots and berries, abandoned the taboos
of waking life, welcomed the spirits to his table, and joined his sisters and
brothers in the dance.
More often than not, there was somebody at the centre of all this.
Somebody who handed out the party plants, somebody who started the action,
somebody who controlled the music. This figure – the witchdoctor, the shaman,
the priest – was a little bit special, he had a certain power. The next day, as you
nursed your hangover, he probably went back to being just your next door
neighbour – that guy two huts down who wears a few too many feathers – but
when the lights were off and you were heading out into a drum-and-peyote-
fuelled trance, he was the don.
Today (no offence to priests and vicars, who try their best) it is the DJ
who fills this role. It is the DJ who presides at our festivals of transcendence.
Like the witchdoctor, we know he’s just a normal guy really – I mean look at
him – but when he wipes away our everyday lives with holy drums and
sanctified basslines, we are quite prepared to think of him as a god, or at the very
least a sacred intermediary, the man who can get the great one to return our calls.
In a good club, and even in most bad ones, the dancers are celebrating
their youth, their energy, their sexuality. They are worshipping life through
dance and music. Some worship with the heightened levels of perception that
drugs bring; but most are carried away merely by the music and the people
around them. The DJ is the key to all this. By playing records in the right way
the average DJ has a tremendous power to affect people’s states of mind. A truly
great DJ, just for a moment, can make a whole room fall in love.
Because you see, DJing is not just about choosing a few tunes. It is about
generating shared moods; it’s about understanding the feelings of a group of
people and directing them to a better place. In the hands of a master, records
create rituals of spiritual communion that can be the most powerful events in
people’s lives.
This idea of communion is what drives the best musical happenings. It’s
about breaking the audience/artist boundary, about being an event, not just
watching one. The hippies in San Francisco knew this when they made the early
psychedelic rock shows places to dance. Sid Vicious knew it when he jumped
off the stage to pogo in the audience and watch the Sex Pistols. It’s the answer to
the Happy Mondays’ question, ‘What’s Bez for?’ And it’s why the twist caused
such a dancing revolution: without the worry of having a partner, you were free
to be part of the whole room.
The DJ stands at the apex of this idea. If he does his job right, he’s down
there jumping around in the middle of the dancefloor, even when he’s actually
locked away behind a lot of electronics in a gloomy glass box.
The lord of the dance
The disc jockey is simply the latest incarnation of an ancient role. As party-
starter par excellence, he has many illustrious forebears. The shamans were his
most resonant ancestors (as no end of misty mystical ravers will tell you); pagan
high priests who directed their people by dance to the spirit world and drank
drug-filled reindeer piss in order to see god. Since then he has taken many names
in many places. He was the music hall’s loquacious Master of Ceremonies, he
was the jazz age’s zoot-suited bandleader, the wrinkled Blue Mountain square
