DJ PAULETTE’S HOW TO KILL A DJ – CHAPTER 4 – PART TWO

SATURDAY OCTOBER 3RD

TO EXCEL, NOT COMPETE

WORD OF THE DAY (Collins 2008)

pasado

ADJECTIVE

Past, Bad, Overdone, Out of date

NOUN MASCULINE

Past, Atelier

NOUN

A Workshop or studio, especially of an artist, artisan or designer

The opening notes of Otis Redding’s ‘A Change is Gonna Come’ are playing in my head. Since I was small I have always had music playing in my head 24/7 and it always carries a predictive message. At times it feels like I have a  prophetic Wurlitzer – all ‘Simon’ flashing lights and chrome – perched on my shoulders where my head should be.

First phone call of the day involves some ‘misunderstanding’ with work. A voice is shouting at me because I have got the wrong end of the broomstick as I have NEVER been booked for the party that I have had blocked in my diary for three months since it was first discussed.  I have turned down other offers to do this party. ‘That’s stupid’. The Voice says, ‘why would you turn down two paying gigs to do this?’ I reply ‘call me loyal but I’m a first come, first served person and I always keep my word.’ I go into detail about the original booking. The Voice stops shouting. Then there’s silence as the penny drops. Voice rushes off to make some calls and when The Voice calls back the tone is upbeat, enthusiastic and apologetic. There’s no money in it though. Alfredo has taken the budget.

For the record, I have a minor cob on. It’s true that none of this matters in real life but that doesn’t stop me wanting to crawl into a hole or eat chocolate and ice cream until my jeans don’t fit. I dream of kicking back in LA. dressed casually for a date at The Ivy. I’m wearing huge Jackie O shades, sitting in the sunshine and dining with my literary agent.  In the dream we are celebrating signing the rights to this blog on to HBO studios for a pilot series. It’s going to be like Two Broke Girls but with one DJ and based in Ibiza. A dream is a wish your heart makes.

I snap out of the reverie by jousting with the two washing machines outside on the upstairs terrace. There’s CL’s machine that has never worked but is in the way of mine which normally works but is throwing a post electrical storm strop. I hiss ‘if you don’t work I’ll break you down for Robot Wars’. It moves. Then it works. I am in no doubt that it fully understood. I reckon you will never find David Guetta on his hands and knees covered in suds and dirt and terrace guana, brandishing a spanner, a stanley knife and an iphone in full ‘Ask Jeeves’ mode. No I bet you never will but welcome to my single Ibiza life.

I have waited in all day to go to Space Closing with my friend who – at 2pm –  is still on the missing list. He has bleached and rinsed it at Amnesia and Bora Bora and only hits his bed at 3pm for a supposed quick siesta.  So much for the ‘let’s go early to Space Closing and side-step that difficult guest list’ plan. I’m well pissed. Then, out of the side of my eye, I catch a news bulletin about Roseburg, Oregon where people have died in the 45th campus shooting this year. I feel ashamed and petty for being childish and shallow so fill my (now) party-free time by doing something positive and planning my upcoming trip to London instead. It’s booked and confirmed for the beginning of November and I have set up a radio interview and mix with Sophie Callis at Soho Radio, three radio interviews for a DMCWORLD feature with Cocoa Cole, Horsemeat Disco and Josey Rebelle, one gig at Housewife and one lecture at the University of Westminster. No matter what else happens today, I have some interesting work to do this winter. I have achieved in the face of party disappointment.

When I go to meet my friends for the Heart Closing Party everyone – except me – is late. Waiting alone outside Downtown Cipriani’s AT THE AGREED MEET TIME, I see that it is annoyingly already closed for the winter. Whatsapp group alerted, we agree to meet at Prince – but your woman on the ground checks and finds that this is also closed for holidays. More waiting. I walk half the length of the Avinguda d’Ocho Agosto in Rita Ora’s stunning evening dress and gold strappy sandals only to stand out like Wilhelmina No Mates at dressed-down-every-day I-Pizza until they arrive. Four pizzas, a few beers, some w(h)ines and loads of chat later and we’ve frittered away our valuable free entry / no queueing time.

In the approach to Heart, the empty doorway that sported a clutch of golden egg, queue-jump ticket holders when I first passed by at 10pm now looks like the Stock Exchange trading floor. My heart sinks like a stone. Everyone is waving something, trying to catch the eye of someone important who knows someone who works there who knows someone they might know who runs or owns it but that someone is doing their damnedest to avoid all eye contact. It takes a good half an hour to get to the front of this queue only to find that only one of us is on the list and that’s the late-comer who was responsible for sorting out the guest list for all of us. Awkward. She goes in to find someone to help us get to the front of the paying queue. No pressure for her then. And more waiting for us. Damian Lazarus arrives – I try ‘the friendly chat’ ruse but he is rolling with a sizeable entourage. His ‘plus-sized’ guest list forcefield is fully engaged. Happily our friend succeeds. We smile as we are each charged 25 euros entry. It is a nicer club, with a stylish older crowd and great music. We stay, we pay, we play.  At least we get in. Many don’t.

It’s kicking inside as Damian Lazarus is in back-to-back flow with Acid Pauli.  Theirs is a strong sound full of dark techno shadows and the dancefloor is heaving and kinetic. Heart clubbing is a world away from the k-hole walking, shuffling zombies or cake throwing and stage diving (into the crowd in an inflatable raft) antics of Ibiza. It’s a great closing party.

 

Facebook Inbox

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Chat conversation start You’re friends on Facebook Boss at Mehdi Dressy Lives in Balham, London, England 8 minutes ago https://www.facebook.com/mehdi.elhabchi Hi Paulette, hope you’re doing well today! I take the liberty of sending you this email as I really want you to know this. My name is Mehdi Dressy, DJ/Producer/Composer signed on Avant Garde & Space Invader Music (Joachim Garraud’s imprint label) & Warner U.S (for my producer part) to name a few, and I’m really glad you’ve accepted my friend request. The reason why I’m sending you this email, is to thank you. Simply, and here’s the reason why. I discovered a genre of music that moved me some years ago, which is house music, throughout many sources on internet, including during a special radioshow on Radio FG, which was yours. I was downloading a copy of your set every week on some forums and was blasting it in my student’s room back in time. With the time it became such an obsession for me, that I started by playing others music, then creating mine and come play it as well. I am thankful to be able to live from my passion, to get recognition for my work from the simple listener to world class dj’s playing my music during festivals, and for that I want to thank you for your contribution to my musical education and self development. With much respect, Mehdi Dressy

My soul has been lifted.

 

WEDNESDAY OCTOBER 7TH

SELF ESTEEM, NOT SELF PITY

 

WORD OF THE DAY

alexithimia

Psychiatry

Difficulty in experiencing, expressing and describing emotional responses.

 

Started the day with yoga but cried throughout the session. Asanas can sometimes release energy in unusual ways. Just roll with it and roll the mat up.

I’d feel much better if I could swim in the sea but I recently weaned myself off Talamanca beaches when I missed a red flag, swam for an hour then read about the ruptured sewage pipe in Diario d’Ibiza that afternoon over brunch. I thought I was going to die from toxocariasis and felt like I should be chanting ‘unclean, unclean’ for weeks after. They say it could take years to clean the part of the coastline.

Another amazing email arrived encouraging me to value my past much more than I currently do.

From : ANDY H

TO :  Paulette

Subject : How’s It Going DJ Paulette ?

Hey Paulette,

In my seemingly old age, I have been going through all my old musical tastes and stumbled across loads of tracks that reminded me of when you used to DJ at the Zap in Brighton.

You may remember me, I used to carry your records now and again from the car to the club and vice versa, however, I was rarely in a fit state to do so!!!! (I think you even left me a nice birthday message on the answerphone at me and my mates flat, which I was well happy about!).

Anyways, can you remember the sets you used to play?!?! I remember them and still make me smile. Been catching up with them all over again! Here’s a few classics that I can remember (it was over 20 years ago after all!)

Bobby Brown – 2 can play that game – k-klass mix THE BEST SONG DROPPED!

Nutropic – I see only you

Solitaire Gee – Slumberland

Ina Kamoze – Here comes the hotstepper

Skee-lo – I wish I was a little bit taller

I can remember you used to rock the Zap!!!

There was another track you used to play and I can’t for the life of me remember what it was called, may have been something like the penguin orchestra or something but it had the massive drum and bass break in the middle?!?! Any memory of it? I’d love to find this one….

Glad to see your DJing is going so well too….

Might try and catch one of your sets if I go to Ibiza again.

Best

Andy

Sent from Gmail Mobile

 

Hi Andy,

Thank you so much for this mail!  It really touched me.

Send me a picture please?  I can vaguely remember someone sweeping me into the club like a star, but I can’t put a face to you!  I should be thanking you for that actually.

Records – funnily enough I have been playing a few of those out again this summer as I have been doing pool parties for Ibiza Rocks and Hotel Es Vive – Ini Kamoze and Skee-Lo have pride of place early doors in the sunshine.  I still love those records – timeless party jams.  I always used to play the Skee-Lo in the Size 9 I Am Ready breakdown 6 minutes in.

Solitaire Gee – also amazing. I hammered that record everywhere. I must fish that one out again.

I wish I could find my Bobby Brown as that is a timeless classic…

 

THURSDAY OCTOBER 8TH

 

WORD OF THE DAY (Dictionary.com)

parvenu

Noun

A person who has recently or suddenly acquired wealth, but has not yet developed the conventionally appropriate manners.

 

I receive an email from I-Safe advising that the insurance claim against the Municipale is unresolved and ongoing following the flood at the storage unit. I’m not totally au fait with road names so when the freak storm hit last August it didn’t register that my storage unit was located on the flood ravaged Avenida de St Joan de Labritja. Nor did I connect that it was the FITA / Eroski road that was closed to traffic due to water running like a fast moving two feet deep ravine. It’s only a bit of rain the residents said. The storage unit stayed closed and did not answer calls for two weeks. When eventually they allowed people entry we were told that the sewage pipe under the street had ruptured and that some of the units had been affected.  One of the worst affected units was mine. Oh yes, That insurance claim.

My unit was waterlogged. Around 2,500 units of vinyl had been ruined and all the sleeves water damaged. Everything in the unit was covered in mud and silt, disgusting and slimy to handle and heartbreaking to hold. The management of I-Safe were unsympathetic. ‘Can’t you just stack them in boxes’ said Kathy. She has no concept of what water, silt, glue and sand actually does to vinyl when it dries or what it does with friction when stacked sleeveless, loose and dirty in a box. No concept of what it means to leave them in this state until the loss adjusters can be bothered to come and view the damage (three months later). And no concept of the emotional and financial value of the original sleeves to a collector. To I-Safe they are just records that are a bit wet that can be dried out with a heater. Yes really.

In other better news, Barclaycard have credited my card with what is now a handsome sum after the ongoing non delivery and general jiggery pokery of my Visa card. It’s hard getting a simple letter delivered because my landlady has lost the key to the vandalised letter box, the entryphone doorbell doesn’t work and lots of businesses (especially banks) will not deliver to a PO Box. To sidestep this, Barclaycard are finally going to deliver my new card to my UK address on Friday October 9th. Yes. My mum will be at home to take the delivery.

To be continued…

 

Find more stories from HOW TO KILL A DJ (plus lots of other stuff) on Paulette’s blog… https://realpaulette.wordpress.com