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John Digweed- The European DJ Phenomena. Hype or Hip
Christine Allen
Christine Allen
While on vacation in London last month, I picked up a copy of London Time Out and was ecstatic when I read that John Digweed was spinning at Club Fabric that Thursday night. I've dreamt of watching Digweed spin wonders in his homeland and that the price tag was only ?8 (roughly US$12). From clubbing in New York I knew this would be a London night not to miss and that every Digweed fan within 50 miles would be clamouring to get in.
At midnight on a drizzly London street, I arrived at Fabric to a deserted sidewalk and a few skinny bouncers with umbrellas leaning against a brick wall. There was no velvet rope, no Posh Spice look-a-like with a coveted guest list. No one was hovering outside the club. My senses were askew. Did I not read the flyer correctly? Did I get the date wrong? I timidly asked the doorman "Is John Digweed spinning here tonight?" "Who's John Digweed?" he replied. I must have the wrong club. A petite blond in a vintage coat overheard my question and piped, "Yes, John Digweed just came on".
In shock, I entered the half-empty mega-club. People were milling about drinking, chatting and dancing, but no one was particularly fixated on John Digweed. There was no "DJ is a God syndrome" where ravers stand in the center of the dance floor mesmerized by the DJs aura and sway back and forth screaming praises at every mix. It took me a while to comprehend the fact that John Digweed was just another DJ in London.
Fast forward two weeks. A freezing Thursday night in New York City outside of Club Centro-Fly. Everyone in the three hour line waiting to get in has already pre-paid $40 for tickets to see the famous English DJ, John Digweed. If you were not in line at 9pm with ticket in hand, or not on the coveted guest list, you'd get frostbite before you got into Centro Fly that night.
The evening was heavily promoted and the turn out successful: sold out and overcrowded. Inside the heat was unbearable. The floor was thumping. The smoke was thick as fog and it took martial art skills to get a drink at the bar. John Digweed was standing on a pedestal so the minions could collectively stare and sway and scream praises whenever he moved. It was a typical uber-DJ night in the Big Apple.
So, what makes a DJ shoot to stardom in the United States but remain grounded in Europe? Do the Europeans know something that is shaded from our eyes? Has DJ fame gotten out of hand and become absurd in America? That is exactly what I concluded that stormy night in London.
At Fabric, I took an audience poll and asked several clubbers how John Digweed was perceived in relation to other DJs. The response was across the board. "He's a great DJ, one of the best, but there are a lot of great DJs". When I told them how the United States worshipped John Digweed, jaws dropped and heads shook "What, you're insane, he's just a DJ". Then I asked if there was any DJ who would command such respect, not to mention a hefty price tag for a few hours music. "No Way!" Most would pay US$40 to go to Creamfields, or Gatecrasher, but those are carnival events where twenty or thirty top DJs spin over a twelve hour period.
Why do Americans empty their bank account each time a European DJ flies over the Atlantic? The answer may lie in the belief that most innovative music comes from Europe. A DJ is only a trendsetter if he's an import. Think about it. In NYC who packs the house a US$40 a head? Paul van Dyk, Tiesto, Sasha, Digweed and Carl Cox. Name one American DJ who can sell out a 3000 person venue on a Thursday night?
Perhaps people think a DJ must be larger-than-life in Europe to warrant a DJ world tour in high class style. Is it all a marketing myth? Were these European wunder-DJs special or just lucky to have been picked by the big labels to represent the dance music scene, and in return, they have to live up to the rock star image and pocket $15,000 a gig. You decide for yourself.
I felt a bit silly at Fabric and then even sillier at Centro Fly in NY. All the pomp and hype showered on John Digweed in the United States had blinded me into thinking that his popularity was a world shared-view. Deep into his set in London, I finally settled into the evening and accepted that the DJ would get no special treatment tonight. The clubbers were definitely at Fabric to hear John Digweed spin a phat set. He was playing incredibly awesome dark breaks with a twist of ambient and everyone had enough room to move. The crowd was pleased with John Digweed's performance. They should be, because he's just a DJ.
At midnight on a drizzly London street, I arrived at Fabric to a deserted sidewalk and a few skinny bouncers with umbrellas leaning against a brick wall. There was no velvet rope, no Posh Spice look-a-like with a coveted guest list. No one was hovering outside the club. My senses were askew. Did I not read the flyer correctly? Did I get the date wrong? I timidly asked the doorman "Is John Digweed spinning here tonight?" "Who's John Digweed?" he replied. I must have the wrong club. A petite blond in a vintage coat overheard my question and piped, "Yes, John Digweed just came on".
In shock, I entered the half-empty mega-club. People were milling about drinking, chatting and dancing, but no one was particularly fixated on John Digweed. There was no "DJ is a God syndrome" where ravers stand in the center of the dance floor mesmerized by the DJs aura and sway back and forth screaming praises at every mix. It took me a while to comprehend the fact that John Digweed was just another DJ in London.
Fast forward two weeks. A freezing Thursday night in New York City outside of Club Centro-Fly. Everyone in the three hour line waiting to get in has already pre-paid $40 for tickets to see the famous English DJ, John Digweed. If you were not in line at 9pm with ticket in hand, or not on the coveted guest list, you'd get frostbite before you got into Centro Fly that night.
The evening was heavily promoted and the turn out successful: sold out and overcrowded. Inside the heat was unbearable. The floor was thumping. The smoke was thick as fog and it took martial art skills to get a drink at the bar. John Digweed was standing on a pedestal so the minions could collectively stare and sway and scream praises whenever he moved. It was a typical uber-DJ night in the Big Apple.
So, what makes a DJ shoot to stardom in the United States but remain grounded in Europe? Do the Europeans know something that is shaded from our eyes? Has DJ fame gotten out of hand and become absurd in America? That is exactly what I concluded that stormy night in London.
At Fabric, I took an audience poll and asked several clubbers how John Digweed was perceived in relation to other DJs. The response was across the board. "He's a great DJ, one of the best, but there are a lot of great DJs". When I told them how the United States worshipped John Digweed, jaws dropped and heads shook "What, you're insane, he's just a DJ". Then I asked if there was any DJ who would command such respect, not to mention a hefty price tag for a few hours music. "No Way!" Most would pay US$40 to go to Creamfields, or Gatecrasher, but those are carnival events where twenty or thirty top DJs spin over a twelve hour period.
Why do Americans empty their bank account each time a European DJ flies over the Atlantic? The answer may lie in the belief that most innovative music comes from Europe. A DJ is only a trendsetter if he's an import. Think about it. In NYC who packs the house a US$40 a head? Paul van Dyk, Tiesto, Sasha, Digweed and Carl Cox. Name one American DJ who can sell out a 3000 person venue on a Thursday night?
Perhaps people think a DJ must be larger-than-life in Europe to warrant a DJ world tour in high class style. Is it all a marketing myth? Were these European wunder-DJs special or just lucky to have been picked by the big labels to represent the dance music scene, and in return, they have to live up to the rock star image and pocket $15,000 a gig. You decide for yourself.
I felt a bit silly at Fabric and then even sillier at Centro Fly in NY. All the pomp and hype showered on John Digweed in the United States had blinded me into thinking that his popularity was a world shared-view. Deep into his set in London, I finally settled into the evening and accepted that the DJ would get no special treatment tonight. The clubbers were definitely at Fabric to hear John Digweed spin a phat set. He was playing incredibly awesome dark breaks with a twist of ambient and everyone had enough room to move. The crowd was pleased with John Digweed's performance. They should be, because he's just a DJ.
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