(Have you ever been to Africa?)
Did you know the Wombury was a DJ at two different periods in his life? It's true. In college he trained to be a Wedding DJ for three months, which is 2 months and 2 weeks too long, before finally having the reins turned over to him in April of 1999. His first and only gig was held on the outskirts of Madison in the basement of a small Catholic church. The results were disastrous from the standpoint of everyone involved. The bride was in tears, which made the father of the bride furious, and the groom wouldn't look the Wombury in the face. For nearly 5 years the memory of the Wedding DJ Disaster haunted the Wombury, post-traumatic images of angry wedding guests seared on his mind's eye. His friends tried to placate him, even going so far as to hire Robin Williams to recreate his role as Dr. Sean for one personal therapy session. "It's not your fault, it's not your fault, it's not your fault."
It wasn't until the summer of 2004, the Wombury's first summer at a school called Bread Loaf, that he dared to touch the mixing board once more. Once more to the lighthouse, I say. What? Whatever, no one likes you. See, Bread Loaf is like a mating camp for English teachers, mostly from boarding school. As a teacher, you spend nine months working with children of various ages and rarely see other adults. Relationships are difficult. Enter the 'Loaf. 6 weeks in the verdant pastures of Vermont, stuck on a mountainside, and plenty of free alcohol. Every Saturday night there is a barn dance held, literally, in a fuckin' barn, complete with two kegs of Otter's Creek beer. It was customary to ask a student to DJ at least three of the six dances. So they asked the Wombury. He was a presence okay? Someone to reckon with in those days, okay? Lay off, you don't know me. I'm taking boxing lessons; I'll punch you in the neck.
So I DJ-ed. It was a success. Here's what I learned. To entertain people, to get them to dance, you have to suspend judgment and personal preference. Put the crowd first. I understood the crowd because I went to school with them, was familiar with their backgrounds. That's the Wombury's thing you know? He generalizes what people like to listen to based on who they are, and generalizes who people are based on what they like to listen to. I knew the formula. Input: Northeastern Boarding School English Teachers. Output: My Sharona, Like a Virgin, It's the End of the World, Bust a Groove, Baby Got Back, Hey Ya', and finish the night with Sweet Child of Mine and everyone goes away with a smile on their face, a buzz in their ears, and sweet lovin' on their mind.
Did I like the music I played? No. But is the Wombury about to play Wilco and John Coltrane at the Barn Dance? No, he is not. In fact, when another student DJ insisted on imposing his love of early 70s funk on the hapless crowd of Boarding School Teachers it truly pissed off the Wombury. What are you doin', dude? No one's dancing for a reason. Give the people what they want.
Okay, so what's the moral of the story? Well, some readers have asked me not to write about things like Resistance, the Underground, or Consumption. The posts aren't interesting, he's told. They have a point. No denying it. The Wombury sees merit in the complaint that he's alienating his reader base. It was all fun and games and laughter and now he's talking about the Buddha and the economy. Nobody wants to read about about Buddha and the economy, and what's the point of the blog if one reads it, right?
I think it comes back to DJ-ing, but instead of playing songs, I'm telling stories. The Wombury doesn't have the option of dishing up the obviously big tasty servings of Madonna and REM and Billy Joel and AC/DC so everyone will go on having a good time. He's got to go further. Now it's time to explain why the less obviously tasty bands like Wilco are delicious too, even if they're not so popular and why Wilco is worth listening to even if takes patience to realize that.
Is that a confusing and lazy analogy? Maybe. I like Wilco, though, so I really don't care if the message is lost. Is it lost? Please no. Mommy.
Until then,
The Wombury
5 comments:
I really enjoyed your analogy. Although, I like Sweet Child of Mine AND Wilco and if that isn't confusing... maybe it's lazy. So give the people what they want...a little Handshake Drugs followed by some Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. Just a thought.
PS I am addicted to your blog Must see what Wombury is up to today
-Sarah U.
Hello, Sarah U.
Addicted to the blog, huh? That's about the sweetest thing coming the Wombury's way in a while. I mean Elizabeth would tell me my ego shouldn't depend on such things, but the Wombury is only too human and his ego has been dragged through the mire lately. So here's a big mushy thank you.
Also, if this is the Sarah U. I think it is, your husband has instructed me to give you a shout out from him on the blog. So here's a shout-out.
One other thing Sarah U.:
I too love Sweet Child O' Mine (it is O', right? that's a little queer in a sort of Irish sense isn't?) and Wilco. The thing is, the Wombury is both self-conscious and judgmental, which is a winning combination. The effect is that he assumes most people won't like or "get" Wilco, while also fret about the conclusions these very same non-fans of Wilco will think about him for liking them, especially if they hear a song from Ghost or Yankee. Makes sense right?
Finally, Handshake Drugs: Third best song on the album.
My grammar not good so much.
Perhaps I should start a blog that is written solely in the comment boxes.
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