Loose Lips

An Open Letter / Love Letter / Soul Rant to the DJs that hover in the distance

Editorial

An Open Letter / Love Letter / Soul Rant to the DJs that hover in the distance

[the banner art above is a 1989 drawing of the Silver Surfer by the French artist Moebius, viewable in full here. the images interspersed with this article come from the amazing @DeejayAffirmations instagram account]



This letter is addressed to all of the DJs, all of you who plan to play music to us in the immediate future, at some point after Monday the 19th of July. In a sense, I’m really just talking to a group of unseen, unannounced DJs who will be playing music at an 8 stage complex in Tottenham called the Cause, on Sunday the 25th of July, the last day of that week when the temporary laws governing touch and prohibiting dancing, when those temporary laws crumple inwards. I say they will crumple, because they will not simply be gone; when we step back onto the dancefloor, as we walk around the complex for the first time without rules and masks and rusted structures of movement, as we find our space and find our pace of movement and find out how to interact with eachother again, we will not be rid of those rules, they will sit in our minds.



Your job used to be that of a conjurer, an architect, a great powerful arm that tugs us into a nether-realm of darkness, a place with its own pulsating rhythms of movement, as thick and reliable as a heart-beat. That’s not what I want from you now. I want you to fantasize, to write, to look us in the eye and show us how you feel, how you want to feel, where you want to go. Let’s go swimming, surfing, snowboarding, let’s be hit by thick jets of sound and streaks of ultraviolet colour.



I want you to have compiled your crates for these first nights with painstaking precision, to have gone through the same thought process I keep on going through as I think about DJing to a small group of my close friends with the possibility of new crewmembers. To have gone through those circular thoughts about what you like, what they like, what’s really good, what music reminds you of the human experience of connection, of empathy, of feelings offered so clearly and openly that they glitter in the darkness. That circle of thought so slippery that it leaves you tired of music, leaving you in such a state then when you land on a track that still makes you excited, you know this belongs on that playlist.



I want to talk with you about your set afterwards, I want you to record these moments of genuine human history, I want to listen back to them decades from now and to feel the reverberations of a great emotional plague that shook us for years and years until it climaxed with 16 months of isolation. I want you to empathise with us, to level with us, to clear all the bullshit and dishonesty out of the room and set us on an exploratory path.



I want this summer to be a summer of love that is as aesthetically distinct from 1989-1992 as 1989-1992 was from 1969, I want you to expand progressive horizons of sound and blow our fricken minds dude. Take us on a journey, and more importantly inspire us to take hold of our own journeys in life, to have faith in our ability to find collaborators who will take our dreams seriously, to look through peakholes of light that expose our privileged freedom.


Most of all, I want you to play tracks that are fucking amazing for you, to get in touch with that primal excitement, I want you to get in the zone and have a great time there.