Week in Review

I can't say that I "hate" parties that involve "young people." Young people i.e. - 15 and younger.

I just strongly dislike them.

The future of our nation ladies and gentlemen. Scruffy hair, baggy clothes, crunk rap music and hard rock.

What... the... HELL happened? Am I getting old? Only 10 years have gone by since I was that age and man I feel like it's all gone to shit.

Music is by no means the same anymore. If it wasn't for Justin Timberlake - I would think all vocal creativity has gone down the drain. I understand in listening to the likes of "Louie, Louie" from the 1950's that vocal talent does not have to be #1 in every band... but when did it become acceptable to put every bad artist on a label to make a buck? For instance - for an old fogey like myself - I enjoy the occasional song from Fall Out Boy. Kids... LOVE these fuckers - you ever hear them live? They can't even sing the songs they wrote for themselves. Or my new favorite - the R&B singer that doesn't really sing - that digitized, then synthesized voice sings for him instead. Marvin Gaye was an R&B singer, no help needed.

I guess what I'm getting at is the real talent has got to be out there - but they just aren't marketable. Shiny things or messed up lives are marketable, drug problems or anti-war songs are marketable.

Prime example - Clay Aiken. Call me a fag all you want - that kid had more talent in his crappy hairdo then the entire current punk rock community had all together. He could sing so well chills would go down your spine. Did you know he sold over a million records? No... you wouldn't because he wasn't marketable - luckily people recognized the talent and bought is album.

Now its not all bad - TV networks these days are trying to interact with kids a lot more - getting them to express themselves and create their own style... some of it turns out pretty scruffy but still its their own - shows like Hanna Montana or High School Musical seem to be teaching decent lessons and integrating music... although not great music, better than the current pop craze...

But is it always a constant battle between cultures here in the USA? What a great nation that we have a melting pot of different races and cultures but yet one government made up of primarily of white males that are supposed to make decisions for us all. Does that then require an often rebellious air in the music business or the pop culture attitudes? I for one may or may not like "The System" or "The Man" and I have my own opinions about lifestyle and how the government should act... but rebellion is the norm in music... their subtle way of saying - I am no longer part of the system, I AM the man.

The kids love it. Excuse my tangent, but I don't remember listening to the rebellious music as a youngin. I loved the real stuff - The Beatles to Van Morrison, to Billy Joel to MJ's Billie Jean. The 80's crap I didn't get into until the 2000's... the 90's I never got into, except for maybe Dave Matthews Band, which I essentially played non-stop in my car my Junior and Senior year of High School - which, heh, ended in 2001.

So there ya go - Thanks Mom and Dad, I actually appreciate the music of your time and your parents time.

If it wasn't for Swing music and the Jitterbug - I wouldn't have gotten a girlfriend I sought after in high school. If it weren't for musicals of the 40's, 50's and 60's, I would have never found my small amount of singing and acting talent.

So am I to assume that now, if I grow out my hair - grow out my beard... where crappy clothing, paint my nails black and get a couple tattoo's and piercings that I'll be popular and sell records?

I never said anything about sounding good.

And that's the world we live in - Our dictator is "Indecency" and "Popular Media," the two pieces of the puzzle that have made our culture a nightmare.

We live in a world that if one person complains - the rest of the world has to comply. If it offends ONE person, we all have to suffer...

There's only one other place I remember that happening - the High School Football field. If one person screwed up, we all had to do laps - remember that shit? Is that what happened? We got some out of work high school football coach running the FCC?

You know in other countries they have topless women on regular broadcast TV? No one gives a rats ass. People - in some cultures its perfectly acceptable to walk around topless.. in broad daylight - without getting in trouble! Without getting paid for it either!

What I'm saying is that, the language, the accidental "wardrobe malfunctions," - are they really so bad? Seriously you think your perfect angel child doesn't know what a tit looks like? They were sucking on one the whole first couple months of their lives - they should be able to appreciate a good pair. You don't like it? Don't watch it! Don't allow your kids to watch it! Perhaps I never got into classic hip hop until recently because my parents wouldn't let me listen to it! But I'm fine with that! I like it now - but by no means did my parents complain to the FCC about it - people can do what they want!

Maybe that's my point. So these kids perhaps are telling us something. They're getting older at such a young age these days folks... developing and learning a lot quicker. This IS the future of our world - maybe it'll change - maybe they'll thank us for finally revolting against this restrictive - "republican dictatorship" that has caused such an uproar. Maybe their rebellion will make things better - more public.. open. Reality TV at its finest. God I hate some of these reality TV shows. And the worse - anything on MTV or VH1 - TRAIN WRECKS!! Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me? MTV used to be edgy, hip, beyond its time. Now it's My sweet 16 and Laguna Beach... I love too how they say that Laguna Beach is "real" - yeah... we'll believe that when my shit turns purple and smells like rainbow sherbet.

Enough rambling - to sum up this monologue, Kids these days are listening to absolute crap. Such crap that it might actually make a difference in this world - people may wake up and realize that we can't be run by the government - we should have been running ourselves the whole time. The government is there to guide us, and protect us, but stay out of the way. Jump in when there's a problem, but otherwise let the players play.

Saturday I had an amazing event - coulda asked for some more dancing but the crowd was a lot of fun regardless.

And that brings me to my next issue - Time.

I'm out of it.

I've been trying for a year now to publish a new Mix - now 2 new mixes... have not found the time at all. It's been a mess. I need to update my website, myspace, this blog... update all my links and accomplishments, update my pictures and all that stuff - somehow I've not found the time.

The problem is - after work and a weekend like the one I just had - I like to just sit there, and do nothing. Play video games, watch TV, kick my shoes off and just kiss on my girl a little bit. I don't want to think about future clients or tomorrow's lunch or this weekend's events. I don't want to think about my new mix or my new song. I want to relax.

And that's exactly my problem. I started realizing that I am going to be a modern day "Mr. Holland." Doing something I HAVE to do because I need to provide - never doing what I really WANT to do because what I HAVE to do takes up all my time. Unfortunately - I will have no where near the same impact that the character Mr. Holland had on his kids.

But I've been saying for months and years - you have to take a risk. Should I just quit this cushy job? Do some odd jobs for SKM and really focus on the stuff I want to do? To the stuff that makes me truly happy? One would think that if it makes me so happy that I would do it every chance I get. I try to, but man I'm tired. I couldn't focus, get things straight. And there'd be always something on my mind. It sucks.

I want to produce a new song - I have the tools to do it. I want to make that mix - put the new song in it - but I don't have the time. The new website design would encompass the new song and mix and everything that I've been about these days... but nah... no it's just not there yet.

Its tragic.

My mom wants me to build a website for her - I've dabbled around with that a little while - never finished that. And while I enjoy doing it - I just want to SLEEP!

I enjoy Weddings. They suck in that its my Saturday night and setup and strike sucks, and the nerves never seem to go away. But I like them. I love them - I'm around love every week, to never happier people and a proud family dances the night away. What's not to like?

I don't want to do them forever though, I want to get out, go on tour, be a humble rock star. Stay out of the Lime Light but still make the cash and live the good life.

Big Dreams

First, I just have to get my ass in gear.

That's all for today. Thanks for reading, have a day.

Collect

I call it "inspired fiction"...

And how does that make you feel? Standing there all high and dry as another person gets knocked down into the dark water... How do you think it makes us feel as you continue to throw us under the bus, being splashed by the mud for your personal gain?

And what about you? The show-off, the kiss up, the suck-ass... working for the man, no thoughts of your own just, "Yes, Ma'am," as you take another order. Wearing your trendy, expensive suits with the pink silk tie, the gold and onyx cufflinks, the brown slip-ons that you got on sale at Nordstrom Rack. As you hold your latte and the double cafe mocha hot no-whip for your boss, how does it feel that no matter how high up you get, no matter how much an image of mass-acception you are, that you will never be good enough? That you will never have your own life and make your own decisions?

Look at you, you're not out of this one - this is my time. MY TIME. You aren't fooling anyone. Can your smirk get any more annoying? As you pretend to be perfect, you still are governed by the sheep that are the majority. The ninty-nine percent. The fast paced, airplane neck pillow wearing, battery-free watch generation. Sky Mall at its best. The world is so small to you, so manageable, you're beginning to look for office space on the moon. Good riddence. The world is too small for you - more room for me to spread out and enjoy what it really has to offer. As you drive your fuel-cell hybrid, thinking that makes any difference - oil still sells my friend... you aren't changing anything, certainly not with all the flights your taking - you know how much JP8 that jet pumps out?

No, you all better just listen up. LISTEN! Not to me - who ever cared about me? Listen to the leaves... listen to the laughter - where does it come from? Where did the collection of beautiful noise come from? Where did it go? Was it replaced by engines and horns? Construction and news choppers?

The phone rings - you don't need to even look because your earpiece tells you who's calling - you say "answer" and it answers. You talk to yourself. The supermarket, the bookstore, the car - talking to yourself, and whoever sits in your ear. The world isn't too fast for you, is it? Nothing stops for you. Your enjoyment is getting the massage at the hotel spa, while talking to yourself. It's sitting at the park during your lunch hour, talking to yourself.

The world is not small. It's huge. Right now, somewhere, someone is crying. Crying because years ago they had a problem, and it has never been solved. Crying because someone died. Crying because he left. Crying because you're broke. But that someone manages. Those tears are reality - those tears are fears, hopes, pain... it's not the hotel gym or a deadline, this is real. That someone is living. Living the dream they think is a nightmare but no - I think it's a fantasy. Pain is a fantasy as that person, that one person is not the ninety-nine percent. They are the one percent. They are the ones that live outside from the trouble free easier life. They never hit in the fairway, they don't have the advantage. They are the underdogs, the ones that stand up for their rights, their dreams - even if that means they are broke, or tired. Even if it takes tears. Even if it takes pain. They can make it. When you die - will you say "Well done?"

Even when the bill collectors call are they backing down? Are they stopping? No, they are strong. They are the one percent.

It's the "B" people that do it.

The "B" people. The ones that shop at Target or Walmart. When they get coffee its a tall, not a venti - or its from the office pot o' shit. And they're happy to have it. They don't take advantage of it.

The "B" people are the artists. The artists that the "A" people look at, listen to, steal from. The "B" people are the blue collars. The dirty jobs. The leaders of themselves. The "B" people help the "A" people have a better life.

But they don't say "Yes Ma'am" because they want to kiss ass, they say it because they have bills to pay. They say it because they don't care about the man, they care about getting theirs and helping others like them getting theirs, who in turn help their kids get theirs. They won't be appreciated, they won't be recognized on the news. They'll be looked at as weird, as geeks, dorks, crazies. I see them as geniuses. I see them as the people that think "outside the box."

Outside the box... fuck you.

That phrase was created by the "A" people's bosses because no one has a brain anymore. No one knows how to think for themselves and say "Wait, this doesn't fucking work."

They just say "Yes, Ma'am."

There should have never BEEN a BOX.

But its all good. The "B" people know how to handle it. They will speak but will never be heard. They will warn but they will never be taken seriously. They will hope, and that's all they'll ever have... hopes.

Time to collect on those hopes. Dreams. Ever wonder why you have to pay more when your credit sucks? Yeah cause that's helpful. If you couldn't afford to pay it now, you're going to make it harder? Neat.

Hope your pink tie chokes you just enough to make you appreciate the day you almost died.

Hope your lips get off the ass long enough to taste some pain.

Hope the bus you threw him under splashes mud in your face.

Because it's kind of like kharma for the masses. Here's your first warning.

Ode to Blue

Change happens. It happens to the best of us, the worst of us. Fact is, no one really likes change - comfort is part security - knowing it will never change always gives us that security.

But change... it happens. All the time - each of us everyday - change for the better or worse. It happens.

About 5 years ago... a lot of change happened. Me and my friends had been frequenting this place called King Tut's in Tempe... a hookah bar with good hummus and comfy places to sit. We went there all the time. I had a crush on the girl, Caitlin - everyone knew that. But we all we friends and it was no biggy.

Anyway, so about 5 years ago - I was introduced to this place, Jamaican Blue Coffee House. I decided to invite my crush to go check it out.

That was it. We sat in the corner at the comfy couches and we talked for hours. About anything... everything - a triple white mocha iced in her hands - I think me with a frozen mocha... it took a couple months before I converted to straight coffee.

After that more friends joined, Bill, Kaisa (sp?) - even David every now and then would join in and hang with us... the idea still the same... conversation. Some of the best thoughts and ideas came out of that place... some of the best talking.

But then it changed. Serena joined the group, Kaisa left... Bill and I were no longer in good terms... I moved on from Caitlin. The paint changed from classic murals on the wall to a contemporary blue and white. When we met - the ideas were still the same though... that didn't change... conversation, talking.

Then it changed again. The walls repainted a flat color now and art hung on the walls. We stopped coming as groups and I just came and sat with my laptop by myself, working on my website and my blogs, typing to friends on the East Coast and sometimes people right down the street. I would see the same people every time... the tall guy with long hair, the chick with glasses that was friends with that one guys girlfriend, that dude that sat in the corner with his laptop with all kinds of stickers on it.... Paulie, Ben... that other guy, Pete? Was it? Every time the same people. That guy with the awesome bike with the spikes all over it... the chick in the really nice car. I wonder if they ever said to themselves... I always see that guy in here with his laptop and his way-to-big headphones... I never knew any of them even though I've probably seen them a hundred times and walked past them a hundred times or even bumped into them once or twice, a polite "Hello..." Hello familiar face...

I would love to look up from my laptop after two large coffees and a dozen cigarettes... I see the people just like I was... talking, conversing. About anything, everything.

It changed again... this time a patio added to aid the smokers, a new bar counter top... nothing is blue at all anymore but art still hangs on the walls. It started looking more like a trendy, contemporary wine and beer bar than the artsy, counter-culture coffee shop it once was. But the people... the people were still there - and they never stopped talking. Now sitting outside at the picnic tables they sat in large groups, talking, smoking - drinking beer or coffee. I would watch from a distance when I looked up from my laptop.

I wonder if anyone asked - I wonder what that guy is listening too as he bobs his head to a mysterious beat.

Groove Salad Ambient Radio from Soma.fm - Winamp Radio. Now you know.

And I was working on my website - 4 different times. Graphics, Flash animation, page design... in case you ever wondered about that too.

Because now - we reflect on the places that defined us. The places that made us human, that made us relax. The place we would go to sit alone in the corner and collect thoughts. The place we would go before hitting the clubs or come to after just leaving the clubs. A place to go show off all dressed to the nine before a birthday celebration. A place for the first beer or a wake up coffee. A place for hot mocha's on the go for a quiet art walk. A place to watch the Suns take it to the playoffs, or watch the captions of the "adult swim" on cartoon network. The place were the lights dimmed at 8, when Paul or Ben or whoever else walked in, the rock music got a little bit louder, the regulars shuffling in. The place where the tip jar always had a different funny saying like "Support starving college students."

Now we reflect on the place where you would go to make up a friendship after a couple weeks or months of not talking, or to rekindle new hopes or new ideas. To take a first date - or a tenth date. We reflect on the many times the face of the place changed - but the faces within it never did.

We were comfortable. We were secure. No matter how many changes the place they call Jamaican Blue Coffee House had... we, the people within it, would never change.

Now The Blue is closing. As of October 8th the place I have been going, we have been going for the past however many years, will be closing. The regulars can't keep it alive single handily - what it needed was new people like me, craving a new place to sit down and just... talk. Friends, family... people that love you, people you love.

Do you know what therapists were back in the day? Friends, Family... people that love you, people you love.

So, here's to the people I know but have never met. Here's to the large black house coffee or the occasional Bud Light. Here's to the friends that have joined me in my conversations over the years. Here's to the one place in a world of detachment that helped us remember the once forgotten art... of talking.

Here's to Jamaican Blue Coffee House, the Blue Bar, JBlue... it's been a good run.

Rebirth

I can't believe almost an entire year has gone by - and so many months have passed that I have not written... "what happened to the 4-5 posts a month?" You may say...

Well I felt bad...

Ultimately its because I really have to publicly eat my words from my last post. Let's just say - I was down on my self, I had to justify an awful lot, and... well I take it back. I love her, what can I say? I've been obsessed with her since first kissing her pretzel-crammed mouth at a Dave Matthews Band concert last August. I guess I wasn't ready for the land of compromise.

Well with that out of the way, let's move on.

Alternate Titles for Today are: "What House Means," "No I'm not Busy," "Viva Las Moving Van," and my favorite... "Grower, not a Show-er."

******************

So it was short-lived. My single opportunity to spin my house records to a public audience has gone back to zero. Kind of shitty too how they went about it. They didn't. I had to ask three times and the night of, they said "oh yeah, no we went back to Hip Hop... thanks for playing."

Hip Hop. My love/hate. It's not what I DJ. I CAN DJ Hip Hop, I just choose NOT to. I'm not saying I can DJ it well, but I can DJ it - it does have a beat after all.

I chose a genre that isn't Bling Bling, that isn't Fer Shizzle, that isn't over-commercialized, and in the middle of a inner-genre wargame. Its always about the big money and the cars or the women that they treat like shit or how great they are at basketball. Do I sound like an old white boy? Even the respectful artists, that write deep-poetic lyrics in their music, usually end up gunned down, or in trouble with the law... or they sell out to make the records sell.

But I love it, because for some reason, Hip Hop's broken - over popular and culturally rebellious - beats make 99% of all dancefloors move.

So it's my Love/Hate. I hate it because it's what I would HAVE to play if I ever wanted a top-flight DJ job here in the US. I hate it because as much as I try to convince people, it is the most popular thing out there. I love it, because it gets me dancing, too. It's as catchy as a jingle.

But I didn't CHOOSE Hip Hop because there's something about EM that Hip Hop will never have - the power to take people somewhere.

When I DJ - I like to take people to a place - start them out slow and work them into a groove, give them changes and broken beats, give them something to think about. I throw in songs they may know, songs they may have heard before - then I take them higher... I push the beat harder and harder - that powerful four on the floor that the typical club goers all think of as "annoying"

But spend an hour or two with me, and I'll take you somewhere. Call me the bus driver.

House is not over commercialized. It's not bling bling - but flashy - the lights and colors... the feel of the strobes... the heat of the speakers. House is sweat. House is the deep, dark dancehalls, that's not about flossin' - it's about... joy, sex, life.

With that I would like to introduce TWO new mixes, together they will be called:

Joy. Sex. Life. - Volumes 1 and 2

Look for them next week on www.djjphoenix.com - and maybe I'll get back into a club sometime soon to play for everyone live.

*****************

Some more things going on this week, an update for my website is long overdue. So I will also be spending long hours at the Blue getting that changed with the times.

What if I didn't live in Phoenix? Would I still call myself J* Phoenix? Or would I become J*Long Beach? Or J* Columbus?

No.

Phoenix is not a place, it's a mythological bird. It just so happens that I also LIVE... in Phoenix.

So I'm going to gear the new site to helping people understand what I mean by that - why I picked the Phoenix to represent what I stand for, where I came from. I think it's important to know that - religion has always been a tabled issue for me. While the Phoenix bird is religious in nature - I am not pressing religion on to anyone. I myself, am a little "anti-religion" in many ways. I was taught at a young age that I am allowed to have my own beliefs - and while I went through the Sunday Schools and the first communions and so on, I've always questioned even my own beliefs. So don't worry - I won't force my lack of religion on you if you don't on me.

Besides - I believe that everyone is allowed to believe whatever the hell they want. And we can argue all day about it if you want to... I can go all day!

I made myself a promise at the beginning of the year - a New Year's Resolution... to create at least one song by the end of the year, and produce it to the public. One song is a start - and it's the bar that I set to allow me to raise as I go along. Next year I hope to make a whole album, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. =)

So I got myself some production software, hooked up a MIDI keyboard, and started banging out some notes. Am I sure I know what I want? No... all I know is that everyday at least once a song pops in my head as if I'm listening to the radio, and I've never heard the song before. My goal is to take that and put it down onto a real track.

So you'll be able to get a taste of my efforts - just a taste - next week when I update my website.

***************

Been doing a little bit of travelling, which is nice because I've been wanting to take some vacation - and if I have to work to get my vacation, I will! Call me "Odd Job" or "Random Task" depending on what movie reference you prefer, September was my month to lend a helping hand. And I must say - I've been thanked immensely by the two people that I've helped.

First it was off to Chicago - only for a couple hours - so I could scoop up my pal Jessica and help her move back home to Phoenix. I say "home" because most of her family is here - I'm sorry - that's always home. A three day trip across the length of the USA proved to be quite fun, me driving a big truck and Jessica with her two cats trailing behind with only walkie-talkies. She thanked me by buying - almost everything except for my general snacks and expenses. Food, Lodging, gas... I still wish somehow I could do more for her. We had a ton of fun though.

Then it was off to Las Vegas, this time I was the one trailing the truck as my brother started off a new endeavor and a new job in the Sin-City. Temptation is high but the benefits are sweet, we found that out after a decent hour of Blackjack - Brian winning a nice hunk of dough to basically pay for the night out. I finally got my Vegas weekend with my bro... I had to work a little for it - but it was more than worth it, my brother definitely hooked me up!

Now it's back to life - and damn its been a tough couple days. Work has been stressful - but not stressful because I'm busy - actually its stressful for just the opposite. I'm slow. And being slow - I lose focus - so I make mistakes. Not good, I hate making mistakes. I always feel so bad when I screw up and my team is not very forgiving. I'm the lowest of the totem pole so hey - they can always blame ol' J when they want to make themselves look better.

That's not fair - but it brings a point to mind - where are they when I do anything good? When I jump in and help them out when they need it the most? Where are they when I make them look good by covering their tails? When they make mistakes and I'm the one to catch it - where's the "J - thanks for whatever...?"

So maybe its not fair to say that they are just trying to find someone to blame and that's me - but maybe it is fair that they're being awfully nit-picky to someone who is always there to help. Sure I make mistakes... it is so much to perhaps giving me a break and saying - "hey - you've bailed me out X times - as long as you fix it I'll scratch your back for you."

Come to think of it - even if I ran the place I probably wouldn't get the respect I feel I deserve.

So how do I get it? I don't ask for it - I don't ask for recognition or show off or tell people how great I am - I just DO stuff. I just do it. Sure I make the occasional mistake but ultimately - I work my tail off and by the end of the day my eyes hurt, my ass hurts, my legs hurt - my brain hurts... is there anyone that says - hey, thanks for sticking your neck out there and taking that shitty phone call. Or - Hey, I appreciate you rushing to get that done by the end of the day - we'll just let that other thing slide... thanks for doing me a solid.

Nothing.

I get - Justin didn't note this or Justin didn't follow up with that. Justin didn't mark this off on the form and Justin didn't do that fast enough.

Thanks folks - I love ya'll too.

***********

I think that's it for me - enough complaining and such - just wanted to say Hi and let you know what was coming up.

Until next time...

Have a day.

Immortality

Hello, my dearest friends. It's been a couple months, and I have a lot to talk about.

In the past few months I have taken my career another step, I took a step back with Internet radio. I took a step in finding out what I really want, and a step back in relationships... breaking someones heart in the process.

For the record, heart breaking is not a 'rubber stamp on the wall' for me. I don't set up relationships just to shut them down. Breaking up is in fact, failure, for me; unfortunately I can see the apparent failure coming long before it ever happens. It's a vicious cycle for me.

But I'm real. Some think of it as a fault but realism to me is how I was raised. As a kid I looked at the world through rose colored glasses, my head always in the clouds as I scurried about my life wasting away... and look what happened. I joined the army, had to leave the army. I never made it to college. I'm fighting for survival, paycheck to paycheck, with only a couple close friends... most that don't even live here... and my future is cloudy.

So I became real - seeing things as they are, as they will be because in life we only get one shot. Realizing that life goes on and I can either stress over it or just run with it.

And this is my story... as real as it gets....

****************
The Big Show

I hadn't bought a vinyl record in almost a year. My house music collection was out of date, out of style. I once was a bedroom DJ, throwing my hands in the air for no one in a room full of records and speakers. I used to be so passionate, when I didn't have room for a table, I put the decks right on the floor. My speaker was my karaoke machine and I would sit there on my hands and knees DJing away. I taught myself how to DJ. I took a class, but the class taught me my history, where the DJ came from and what he means to us now. That just gave me some inspiration. I did a couple mixes, and made a sweet website - all by myself - to promote me to... no one.

I DJed weddings.

Been DJing weddings and corporate parties for 5 seasons now... 2 1/2 years. I've probably done over 100 events by now, and in that time the house music went away.

I was a wedding DJ.

You could safely say, that I was no longer a bedroom DJ. I was playing out, in public, in front of crowds. People loved it, dancing their hearts out to the hits I played old and new. But this wasn't what I wanted... this wasn't my calling. No, I was still a bedroom DJ, to the clubs.

But a couple weeks ago I saw a bulletin... my girl DJ Lysa D. She had been promoting all kinds of things in the past couple years since she parted ways with Energy 92.7, clothing lines, remix services... random stuff. To me, she's a local superstar... I'm sure I'm not the only one that thinks that.

She posted a bulletin on MySpace saying that she was looking for interested house DJ's to do a guest set at a sports bar/club in Surprise, AZ. OH of course I was interested! I responded right away... really I was thinking 'what the hell' cause I didn't think she would respond...

But she did. "Cool, the 14th ok?"

That was just about the time when reality struck. Oh shit... I have a gig. I don't have 2 hours of music, I don't even have relevant music! I haven't practiced in MONTHS! I haven't done a mix or anything and now in less than two weeks I have a two hour set?

I didn't care how small it was, how few people would be there - this set is my first and maybe only opportunity to do anything with myself... so it was going to be the best set of my life thus far.

I practiced... every day mixing an hour, two hours, four hours... I listened to hundreds of songs in 7 different websites. I went to the record store where I haven't been in years... spent hours there searching through crates and having the guys pull me stuff. I needed house and trance. I went home and listened, recorded, listened, downloaded... my roommate and my neighbors angry from the constant beat coming from the DJ studio. Sweat beaded from my forehead on a daily basis... I always sweat way too much. The room felt at least 10 degrees hotter than the rest of the house. Visions of greatness passed through my head as I honed in each track... my beatmatching skills coming back to me little by little, like riding a bike.

Then came the Sunday prior to the gig. I had bummed around the house all day, doing just little somethings. My roommate... God bless him for dealing with me... understanding that I don't clean that often. Luckily when I do it's scrubbing with elbow grease and making the place spotless. Sunday I watched a movie... an independent film called "It's All Gone Pete Tong." It's about a DJ who was on top of the world. The exciting summer party island of Ibiza, Spain, the massive clubs holding some 3-5 thousand patrons... he was the best of them all. Then he goes deaf. His career is, for all intents and purposes... over. But, after about a year he learns how to read lips... and he discovers that by feeling vibrations and looking at raw wave patterns that he can still DJ... and produce. The show ends with him coming back for one last big gig in front of a record crowd... and he nails it.

I watched the movie and became... excited. It's like a football movie - the struggling team comes back and wins it all - overcoming adversity... its like the underdog films that always seem to have a good effect on me. Only this - this was DJing. I saw the clubs... the crowds.. the appreciation for the finest form of entertainer... the DJ.

Here in the USA... DJing, and more importantly Electronic Music, is a lot like Soccer. It's HUGE everywhere in the world... but the USA. The DJ is like a rock star there. There's not many Justin Timberlakes, or Jamie Foxx's, or Paris Hiltons. There's Paul Van Dyk and Oakenfold, Tiesto and Armin Van Buuren. They are DJs. They are the party.

This all ran through my head in a matter of minutes... my adrenalin kicked in and I clapped my hands together several times and yelled out "LET'S FUCKIN ROCK!"

I walked upstairs. Slowly, as if I was back stage climbing stairs to the booth in front of thousands. There was a pulsating roar... sounded a lot like thunder to a beat for a while but as I got closer to the top of the steps it became more clear... "J....J.....J.....J" the crowd was chanting for me. On the way I shook hands with imaginary promoters and an imaginary manager. I hugged my brother who wasn't really there. I grabbed two waters that were cracked open already for me so I don't have to waste time. The crowd was thunderous now... as I approached the decks. It was dark, I could only see the work lights coming from the booth. The crowd knew it was time as the intro music began to blast. Lights flashed over the crowd and I caught my first glimpse at its massiveness. The stage was still dark as the announcer began rolling through my awards and recognitions... That was my cue to start the first track... I pushed play and the beat began to soar over the speakers... the crowd went bonkers. The stage still is dark but the break is coming... "Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome... J.... PHOENIIIIIIIIIX!" With my hands in the air the lights come on full - so bright you have to squint... then the beat drops... we're on our way. One mix, two mixes... one hour goes by my hands manhandling the vinyl and CDs, each mix tight and clean. I would pump my arm and the crowd would too, I would jump up and down... the crowd would too. The mix went so well it seemed as if the songs were born to be with each other. Two hours... power down, my hands in the air... good night.

I was just imagining the crowd... but the mix was still great. Sunday night I was on a high. I was ready... I was BACK. Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday I simply fuddled around, just focusing on a few details... there was no stopping me now.

Then Thursday came.

I was nervous... just because I want to do well... I want to be successful. I had gotten a few "good lucks" from some important individuals in my life... and I was on my way.

Only there were no crowds. There's no back stage... no managers, no people to hug. I got my own water, my own towel... and my one fan was there for support. But believe me - that didn't make the night any less important. The moment came for me to begin and there was no announcer, no dark stage... no chanting. I just mixed in like I should have. But that was all I needed. From that point on I was in control of my destiny. I was in control of my fate. I mixed my ass off. It was nearly... perfection, in my mind. Sure I made a couple mistakes... but perfection, to me... is occasional imperfection.

I'll have my crowds one day. Until then, I was asked to come back next month - I graciously accepted, because it's a start in the right direction. And hey... it's a really nice club!

*********************
Don't Cry Over Me

About the same time I was locking in my first gig... I was also having personal problems. I tend to handle problems poorly, in that if I can't solve the problem I choose to just end the cause of the problem. Time for all of you to meet my newest ex-girlfriend. Since I'd say October last year I had been on and off dating her, I liked her a lot and she was one of the greatest people here in AZ I had ever met. What made her more attractive was the fact that she actually lived here, as opposed to Egle, who lives on the East Coast. But I still had a thing for Egle... so committing to the boyfriend title was not in question at that point. But come January... Egle and I fell apart. Ultimately, she said some things she didn't mean... I reacted in a bad way... yada yada. I'm over that. But with Egle gone I gave myself the green light to try things with Alex. We became 'officially' dating somewhere towards the end of January.

Alex was amazing. I had been convinced for quite some time that she could have the potential for a long running. I'm a realist, though... so I never think TOO far in advance. In fact - one of my problems is that I always feel like it won't work out.

But she was different. We laughed a lot, we loved to spend time with each other. We went out and partied or watched movies and did stuff. We were a great pair. She's beautiful, caring, all of that good stuff that I want... sounds perfect right?

Only after a while it wasn't perfect. It's my fault, I'm sure... but we began fighting a lot. It was always something, a little this, a little that. Some battles we picked some we didn't - but everything started to bug me. Things bugged her too... she wanted me around all the time, which is great but... well anyway - I'm not going to bore you with the details of all that....

It came time that I realized that it wasn't going to work out. Perhaps yes... we could have worked the final issue out and made up and been fine - but what if there was another? And another, and another? Each time we had a fight I would get more and more discouraged. To the point that my love for her became frankly... work.

Love.... it's not supposed to be WORK. It comes naturally, it's easy! Sure every relationship has problems or fights but... this wasn't working for me. I'm 24 years old! I'm not thinking about settling down or starting a family... so if I'm with someone who in the back of her mind is... well then I wasn't being fair to her. I had lost that feeling for her. I had lost hope. Sure we all HOPE things work out with significant others... but they don't sometimes and it hurts but we can move on... I'm young! I can go out and do whatever, and I'm just BEGINNING my life... I guess I wasn't ready to be tied down like I thought.

So I broke a heart. Again.

It was handled so terribly too... over email. Not even over dinner or a clawing and screaming fight. Not an endless phone call... it was an email that didn't even have closure. It was left wide open to whatever interpretation she wanted and no matter who it is - it's always taken wrong.

I'm a realist.

When things aren't working... they aren't working. It's not a bad thing - at least we could realize it before we continue to progress down this path of despair! I failed... I failed again.

But it's not failing at life! I'm 24 years old. I'm an adult but I'm still a young adult.

I've been pretty bummed out about it over the past couple weeks, tried befriending some people I haven't spoken to in months or even years. Another reason I wanted out... I had lost all my friends, the close ones and the far ones. My freedom was lost...

It never ends well. Break ups don't ever end well.

The issue is, I just wanted my freedom back. I wanted the fights to end and the freedom to return. So, yeah we should have broken up - but that never meant that I don't like her anymore. I really care about her, genuinely care, about her, her life. But she ignored me for two weeks... got a couple one liners from her in myspace... one I responded to - didn't seem to spark any conversation... am I the problem?

Maybe. But it seems like it's too late, now, to figure that out. So much for "can we still be friends?"

So its over... such is life I guess. The cycle continues.

I've decided that the only way to be fair to women is not to commit to being a boyfriend until I'm really, seriously, ready. In life, in status, in whatever capacity. I'm not ready yet. So to be someones boyfriend and be constantly holding back would just be a waste of time to the girl that generally wants to always progress. I've decided that relationships are not my thing, they aren't for me. Not until I've gotten in the shape I want to be in, have the money I want to have earned, and I'm living in the place I want to be living. It's not fair to women to provide them with this false sense of hope. Sure I hope for the same things - but the cycle always comes back and bites me... the longing for freedom, the need to grow on my own... and the feelings always change. So I become what I never wanted to be - the asshole. I've become what I felt gives us guys a bad name. So I've become that... maybe that's all I deserve - the asshole treatment.

Regardless of that. When I'm ready, I'll know it. I'll long for it. Then... who knows - maybe it'll be too late.

****************
Dead Legends

Johann Sebastian Bach
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Albert Einstein
Edger Allen Poe
Babe Ruth
Elvis Presley
John Lennon
George Washington
Jesus Christ

What do these people have in common? They are all dead... for one - but yet their legends and stories and history lessons live on. All things aside... these are immortals. An immortal is someone that never dies... but what if we were to extend that... and say that an immortal is someone that lives within us. The stories... the history books... the legends.

As a closing note today, let's think about immortality. Have you found what will make you immortal?

It's good to be back.

There's a new mix coming soon, as well as more on the gig coming up - I'll be at the Brookside Sports Bar and Grille July 12th.

Love and Be Loved. We'll talk soon.

Doing Things Right

All my life I have started things. I have started things and never finished them, just started them, loved the idea, worked at it, faught for it, defended it, and then dropped it.

Never have I finished something, accomplished something.

It starts with the small things. Never have I tackled my finances so I'm the one in control, not the bill collectors. I started writing a book, never finished. I started writing a movie - two, in fact - never finished. I started plotting a video game, never finished. I started writing music, never finished.

More recently I started writing an essay... never finished. I started building a library, never finished. I started working on my body, never finished - now like 100 times. Smoked on and off for almost 10 years now. Radio show is not back on the air, still broke, my new mix is still in pre-production.

Never finished. . .

I looked at some old pictures yesterday with Alex. I was going to create photo albums of all of them too, never finished that. Never finished the big ass box of photos my parents have either, they wanted the same thing. Never finished.

That reminds me I need to make them a DVD of all the digital photos they have. Never finished that either.

So many things left open.

Still have a lot to do with my website, this blog, my DJing career, education - never finished any of that either.

So at this point some might think of my life so far as a failure. A half-assed attempt at stardom and success with a side order of "I'll do it tomorrow" attitude.

I think of it as a lot of open doors to still walk through.

I have to do things right. They have to be perfect for them to be acceptable to me. If things aren't going like I had hoped I get discouraged and give up. Say fuck it I'll just live paycheck to paycheck and I'll just be single forever and I'll just work at this office job for the rest of my life. Some have said that I've already done that. Some have said that I'm just staring over the cliff... ready to finally jump.

When I hit bottom... will I die? Or will I hit water? When I jump... will I regret the jump? There's no parachute its just me and the ground 1,000 feet below and I hope... I pray that the ground is soft down there.

Because the only way to make it is to jump.

So I'm jumping. I'm taking the leap and soaking in that split second of zero gravity and then absorbing the rush of blood away from organs and the vertigo of gravitational acceleration, as I reach terminal velocity as the ground grows below me. I see a river...

But right now I'm falling. I'm falling and falling and falling.

I think... was this a wise choice? I was perfectly fine with my 40K a year and my roommate, my ameture radio station, and my wedding DJ job... why did I have to jump?

I have to jump. It's the only way to make it. I have to jump.

But I have to do everything the right way. It has to be perfect, otherwise I get discouraged and say fuck it.

There's the rub.

Stay tuned for more...

What I Wanted to Learn in High School

Just a quick announcement:

I found a subject I am interested in, so I am going to study it. Over the next few days I'm going to study Music, and Politics(more importantly, war), and how they relate. This has been researched before by others, but... I don't care. I will complete my studies with an essay that will compare and contrast the revolution of music in the 20th century, and how it interacts and does or does not relate to conflict and wars in the same era. This may bore you, but I don't care about that either.

I will post the essay here when I am done, in a few days, or weeks - and then talk about it on the internet radio show that will eventually begin. I invite those of you that may be interested in this subject to send me your comments or opinions at any time, either during my research or directed towards the final product.

We are a generation of brainiacs in hiding.

Have a day.

Breath of Dirty Air

Welcome to 2007.

That's what I thought waking up Monday morning as my vacations were over, the holidays behind me. By this point, I haven't even started to recap what has happened to me over the past 925,600 minutes... or so. I rushed out the door, back to work - thrown back into the fire being the only person on my team taking all the tasks. Neat.

Welcome to 2007.

In the past year, as you well have read, I have had ups and downs as always. I've had this blog almost 2 years now, and I am soon to commemorate a milestone of 100 posts. 11 posts to go.

But a lot can happen in 11 posts. In 11 posts I could fall in love or become hated again. I could fall out of love. In 11 posts I could finally get the job I want. I doubt it though. Something tells me this year will be like the others. Empty with a side order of heartache. I have big hopes every year - setting my goals high and consistently not obtaining them. I've spelled them out before:
Get in shape, get out of debt, get a fuckin job. I have a job - a day job... I mean THE job.

And yet - this year I feel there needs to be a different approach. Lately I have been distant even from myself - the new year didn't go like I had hoped. I saw dreams of fireworks in the sky, my smile never larger as I celebrated richly with my closest friends, even if they were strangers. I didn't think I would be tired and beaten... I didn't want that.

So here I am, two weeks back into my old self again, ready to go over board as I look at my empty bank account, stare at my full stomach, and look at my deteriorating face. My bones hurt. My muscles hurt. My brain hurts. My heart hurts.

So I have to move on. This is a me effort - not a we effort. Sure - someone can tell me what I need to do, from the outside looking in, it's easy to say. But it's easier said than done. Educated, debt free, in shape - all easier said than done. What's the reward for such accomplishments? Pain? Suffering? Who wants that? Is it worth it? For someone who for a while was actually starting to become quite happy with himself. Sure I have my ailments, my big belly, my fat ass, my high school diploma, my empty bank account... but for once - for once I was OK with all that. I was OK with who I was because the things I have done in my past, and the things I want to do in my future will define me - not by the way I look or the money I have - the THINGS I DO.

I'm a DJ.

DJ's need TALENT - and PRACTICE. Not Education or a toned body. Healthy? Sure. I need to be a little more conscious of my health. But I am by no means ever going to be a stud - nor do I ever want to be.

I was happy with who I was - until someone told me I wasn't good enough. And you know what? I don't care. If I'm not good enough for them then I'm good enough for someone else. I want my life to be defined by what I have done, not by my status or looks. It will never be about my status or looks.

Ever.

Welcome to 2007.

It's not about changing... I should be happy with who and what I am. What the hell do I need to change for? I should be perfectly happy about the road I am on. I am improving as a DJ and MC, I have... HAD a radio show - and will have one again... I'm better than ever behind the decks and I have a bad ass Trance mix in the works. I will find a place where I am good enough.

I will surround myself with people that think I am good enough.

I don't need negative support - especially from people I care about. That will only do negative things to me. I am happy here.

I'm happy in Arizona.

That's where I moved to, Arizona.

I've lived here for almost 6 years and dammit I love it here. There's miles of opportunity here, and when I tackle all of that opportunity I will move on. Only then will I move on.

My New Years Resolution?

Be me, and be god damned happy about it. If someone else doesn't like it - fuck off.

Grow within myself, and practice to hone what I am already good at. Whoever doesn't think that's good enough - fuck off.

Get paid, and excel in the things I'm getting paid for. Even if it is something I may not like, I need the money, and if people think I'm wasting my time - fuck off.

My name is Justin McCall Fuckin Ray Chapin.

Welcome to 2007.

************

So here's the plan. It's gonna start with the basics, shedding a few of the holiday pounds by cutting out things like soda, energy drinks, and fast food. Eating real, home cooked food. It's saving my money by not going out all the time and blowing it on mindless things. My new job is keeping the money I earn, so I can buy the tools that will make me an artist. Then it's going to be about becoming the best in my field... practicing, learning, asking questions, talking to others ahead of me. I have to learn from the ones in the places that I want to be in. I want to take their jobs when they leave... or just take their jobs. Then it's buying a library. Obtaining just about every song ever written and listening and learning about them. Building a thirst that I can never quench. Then its taking yet another step. Theory. Music is about theory and I never made the grade when Dr. Hocking was trying to teach us in high school. So I must learn it. I must learn the technology, I must learn the business... I must create.

I..... LOVE this. I love music. I love the beat... the powerful beat. I understand it. I can feel it shaking me even when it is at a whisper... The beat defines me. I am defined by music. And THAT - THAT is good enough for me. I don't need a degree. I don't need a flat stomach and a perfect body. I need music in my life. I need to be the best at what I want to do. That's all. I don't care about debt. Debt will always be there, I will always be broke - and while I know that's not a desirable trait - I don't give a shit. I am defined my music. I am defined by my ideas and my creativity. I am defined by caring, by loving, by making people laugh and smile. I am defined by bringing people joy. I am defined by my opinions, my knowledge, by my thoughts. I am defined not by my car, or my attractiveness, nor my bank account... those things will never be in my favor.

What will be, is something I have talent in. I have potential in. That will come with practice, learning what I need to know to become the best. Not by a piece of paper.

And I'm staying right here.

Anyone want to come with me? They are welcome to join. Otherwise... have a nice life...

Welcome to 2007.