or “30 Ways To Keep It Real and Minimise Battyfapping”
- This is a DJ booth, not a dancefloor. In here for DJing; out there for dancing.
- This is a DJ booth, not a cloak room. In here for DJing; out there for storing your precious £150 leather jacket that you will inevitably lose and panic about before the night is through.
- This is a DJ booth, not Paris or Milan during Fashion Week. In here for DJing; out there for doing your little turn on the catwalk.
- This is a DJ booth, not DJ Hero on your PlayStation. In here for DJing; out there for terrible mixing of terrible music.
- This is a DJ booth, not YouTube. In here for DJing; out there for being seen and ‘liked’ by millions.
- Again, this is a DJ booth, not YouTube. In here for DJing; out there for snide, cocky comments with no repercussions.
- This is a DJ booth, not a cruise ship. In here for DJing; out there for reclining on a deck.
- This is a DJ booth, not a pub. In here for DJing; out there for spilling drinks and social gatherings.
- This is a DJ booth, not Newsnight or Question Time. I am a lighting jockey, not an MP; and you are a clubber, not Jeremy Paxman or David Dimbleby. Stop grilling me. In here for DJing; out there for topical debate.
- This is a DJ booth, not a confessional booth. In here for DJing; out there for divulging your - decidedly First World - problems to somebody who might care and have some useful advice for you beyond “Man up.”
- This is a DJ booth, not a farmyard. In here for DJing; out there for acting the goat.
- This is a DJ booth, not Kingston, Jamaica. In here for DJing; out there for your rich-boy faux-Patois accent, Mr Banana Klan.
- This is a DJ booth, not a juke joint, not a request line and not your iTunes library. In here for DJing; out there for selecting Beyoncé / Rihanna / Darude / Swedish House Mafia / “some dubstep, bro”/ “that sick track that goes like…” / the latest ‘disco’ hit everyone is battyfapping to / anything you want to listen to.
- This is a DJ booth, not the New York Stock Exchange. In here for DJing; out there for yelling orders at people and betrayal of trust.
- This is a DJ booth, not mixcloud.com. In here for DJing; out there for “track ID, bro!?”
- This is a DJ booth, not Tony Montana’s mansion. In here for DJing; out there for treating the equipment like you’re not actually living off your student loan.
- This is a DJ booth, not after-school detention. In here for DJing; out there for doing your ‘lines’.
- This is a DJ booth, not Wigan Pier. In here for DJing; out there for your shit ‘MCing’.
- This is a DJ booth, not a dogging site. In here for DJing; out there for battyfapping.
- This is a DJ booth, not a young offenders’ institute. In here for DJing; out there for your stroppy, mardy, chardy attitude.
- This is a modern day nightclub, not civil rights era America. In here for electronic music; out there for stereotyping me based on the colour of my skin.
- This is a nightclub, not Muscle Beach, California. In here for music; out there for string vests, fake tan and shades.
- This is a nightclub, not a year 8 drama class. In here for music; out there for toting finger-pistols at each other.
- This is a nightclub, not the mean streets of Los Angeles, California. In here for music; out there for your crooked cap, sagging pants and Crip-walk.
- This is a nightclub, not a year 2 art class. In here for music; out there for your ubiquitous childish scribbling.
- This is a nightclub, not a photo booth. In here for music; out there for “Ere, mert, tek me pictyuh!” (One for the togs.)
- This is a nightclub, not a scene ‘hardcore’ gig. In here for actual music; out there for Skrillex, unfinished chest pieces, skinny jeans and slam-dancing.
- This is a dancefloor, not Knowsley Safari Park. Over here for dancing; over there for reaching over the glass and touching things that do not need or wish to be touched.
- This is a bar, not the Algerian Black Market. Over here for buying drinks; over there for haggling prices on poison.
- This is a bar, not a Jagermeister convention. Over here for a polite exchange with bar staff; over there for shouting “JAGERBOMB!”
When I, or any of the other staff, convey any of the aforementioned, do not:
- stand there making sad puppy eyes at us
- get angry at us
- attempt to persuade us to change our minds
- continue to talk rubbish
- continue to stand there, staring
- try to undermine our authority in any way
- accuse us of being terrible human beings
Because you don’t know anything about us as people, and, believe it or not, I am actually at work and need to carry on working.
Staring at a screen and pressing buttons for money is infinitely more pleasurable than having to deal with people like you.
After all is said and done, this is a nightclub. A place where the use of your ears is valued a lot more highly than the use of any other organ,
SO SHUT UP, SOAK IN THE SOUNDS AND DANCE.
:)

