Thursday, December 30, 2004
THEY SHOOT DJs, DON'T THEY?
So if you never hear from me again, here's why:
On New Year's Eve the People's Republic Of Disco is hosting its first New Years Eve Party at the Windmill (as ever...). We're going to run it from about 8pm till 4am unless the landlord's attempts to squeeze 250 people into a 100-capacity venue doesn't result in death, injury or a riot in the meantime..
Once THAT'S over, our hero (me, you doofus) will be heading - sober and steady without a doubt - down to Bar Lorca for the Unsound NYE Party to attempt to play an hour or so's jump up reggae to a room full of mashed up junglists. This finishes at 10am.
THEN - and Lord alone knows how i got talked into this - on the evening of New Year's Day, it's BACK to the Windmill for the pertinently named Too Late To Stop Now, the club i'm hosting with Ian Watson of How Does It Feel To Be Loved. A club that came into being about 10 minutes ago when the Windmill realised they had nothing booked for January 1st. This will doubtless run from 8pm till 1 or 2am. Should be good - just lots of vintage dancefloor stuff of the sort I don't often get to play out (i've been dusting off my copy of Rex Garvin's version of Peanut Duck especially)...
Since it's a safe bet that I won't get any sleeping done between Unsound and the latter, and since i'll have been at work on the day of New Year's Eve itself, this means I'll be up for about 44 hours, of which something like 16 hours or so will be spent either actually DJ-ing or engaged in some other club-running activity... Now I'm not looking for any medals, but for an old'un like myself I think that's pretty fucking impressive. Or scary. Or just dumb...
See you on the other side, folks, and Happy New Year...
posted by dubversion at 10:30 am