| "Income the DJ Vibe" | ||
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Club Rossya May 3rd, 2008, 2132 hours He arrived at the club with more than a little trepidation, unsure of how the night would play out. The last time he had played out had been the fateful event that had played a major part in his decision to leave England, over two years ago. When he thought of it like that it seemed like it had all happened in another lifetime, one that he had left behind him to embark on what was now his life, working in Russia against those who wished to harm Her. Back when he'd been brought in he'd stipulated that he would not work against the UK, and that had been honoured by the powers that be, and so in return he had completed his tasks with the minimum of fuss. That was what he would do now. Complete the mission. He'd spent much of the afternoon spinning the wheels of steel, much to the annoyance of Yelena. Garage music was not her preference, so she had gone out shopping with her mother, leaving Nikolai all alone with his beloved vinyl. Though he had managed to build up quite a collection over the years, and had had a little mix every now and then, he still felt like he needed to practise. After several hours of joyous mixing he felt great. His skills had not faded and the records brought back a wealth of memories, many of them good, a few of the bad, but overall the experience left him both exhausted and satisfied. The rest of the day was spent resting and regaining his energy before heading over to Kirill's house to finalise the game plan. Olesya had arrived to help pick out clothing for them, and after an hour or so they all left dressed to impress. The club was alive with people, and to begin with he just mingled with the crowd to get a feel for them. The music being played was Trance, and that immediately set alarms ringing in his mind; he hated Trance and would not be mixing any of it. How would the crowd react to his change in music style? He didn't know, but decided that that piece of information would be critical to the success of the mission, and so he resolved to find out. He moved further into the crowd, absently nodding his head to blend in with the dancing masses, being careful to avoid injury from the swinging arms and legs which seemed to appear unexpectedly in front of him. Once he had managed to get to what was roughly the centre of the crowd he turned and headed towards the bar. The bar was set along one of the walls; the long counter stretched from end to end. He walked over to where two girls were standing and took a place near to them. He then waited for the girl behind the bar to notice him and take his order. The bar girl was harassed, valiantly attempting to keep up with the string of requests from the various drunken revellers who were lined up all along the counter. After a few minutes of waiting he could tell that his drink wasn't going to come fast, so he turned his attention to the dance floor. "Hi," said a voice beside him. He turned back to see it originated from one of the girls who were standing near him at the bar. "Hello," he replied. "I'm Tamara," she said, "and this is Dariya." Tamara pointed to her brunette friend. "I am Yevgeniy," he replied, unaware of what was happening. Being blissfully happy with Yelena had caused him to forget what it was like for single people in public places, and it took him a few seconds to realise what was happening. Then it clicked: She's chatting me up. He decided to use this to his advantage. "So, what are you here for? Certainly it can't be for the music." She giggled, then responded, "No, this isn't really my type of music." She paused for a second, then asked, "So what are you here for then?" "I'm meeting a friend in here," he informed her, and he caught the look she gave her friend: There's one for you as well. He tried to hide the smile that was forming but failed. The play worked, and Tamara smiled warmly at him before taking his hand and pulling him towards the dance floor. He stood his ground and was rewarded with a quizzical look on her face. "What's wrong?" "I can't dance to this. Anyway, I better go look for my friend. I said I'd meet him upstairs, and, well� I better get upstairs if I'm gonna meet him." "That's ok, we'll come with you." Tamara and Dariya took up their positions beside him as he made his way up the stairs to the second floor. As he ascended the staircase he caught a brief glimpse of Olesya standing by the bar. There was a man standing next to her, and Nikolai realised that the man was one of the DJ's minders. He continued on up the stairs knowing that things would kick off in less than ten minutes. The second floor immediately caught his interest; a central dance floor with small alcoves dotted around the periphery, giving an air of relaxation which the soft jazz music only served to heighten. He led them over to one of the alcoves and sat down. They spoke for a few minutes about the music downstairs before he offered to buy them a drink. Upon his return he was aware of a slight change in the atmosphere. It took him a second before he realised it was because the music downstairs had stopped. Several people came onto the second floor complaining; when Tamara asked one of them what had happened he told her that the DJ had thrown up, and there wasn't any replacement.Any time now, Nikolai thought. Another minute of small talk passed, then he saw Kirill's head rising above a couple that were dancing on the dance floor. Nikolai raised his hand and beckoned him over to their table. He hurried, and Nikolai/Yevgeniy stood to greet him. "Ruslan!" "Zhenya!" Kirill/Ruslan exclaimed as they embraced. "They need you," Bogdanov said. "What? Who?" "The DJ has just been sick, and there is no-one to replace him. I was asked to take over because I was carrying your record case. I told them you could do it." Nikolai/Yevgeniy feigned shock, then said, "Ok, I'll do it." He turned to the girls. "I'm sorry, but I have to go." "Wow, this is so cool. Come on Dariya, lets go watch!" Tamara exclaimed. Outside the DJ Booth May 3rd, 2008, 2247 hours "I'm sorry," he found himself saying to the suited man in front of him, "but I don't play Trance, I play Garage. If you want me to play, then that's what I'll play, nothing else." The Suited Man thought about that for a few seconds, then finally agreed. "Ok." It wasn't as if he had a choice, and Nikolai knew that.Stepping into the DJ booth he felt a second of uneasiness sweep over him, but ignored it. Kirill passed the record box over and Nikolai took it, placing it down by his feet. He knelt down and undid the clasps, opening the box and revealing his precious vinyl. He was aware that all eyes were on the DJ booth; the music had been stopped for long enough to make sure that everyone was both annoyed and curious about what was going on. Flipping through the records in the case, searching for his trademark dubplate, he found himself feeling a sense of d�j� vu. He tried to shake it, but it wouldn't go away. Only when he managed to locate the dubplate did the feeling subside, and as he stood back up he felt a great number of eyes focusing on his form. He turned his attention to the equipment he would be using. The decks were Technic 1210 Mk III's, the same ones he used whenever he could. As far as he was concerned they were the best in the business. The mixer was typical for a large club: a huge board dominated by many buttons and dials which gave the sense of great complexity. He couldn't see a brand name, and it wasn't a mixer he had ever seen before. He absently touched the crossfader and found his eyes drawn to a familiar logo, and in that instant he realised that the mixer was custom built. You got cash, he told Alexeii in his mind. The record spun in front of him on the left turntable, rotating at thirty-three RPM, the grooves in the vinyl illuminated by the little pop-up light on the deck. He checked that the crossfader was pushed over to the other channel, which it was, then he moved the needle over the outside of the record and let it fall into the grooves. Immediately his headphones were filled with sound, warm and rich, transporting him back to old days back in England. He shook the feeling and concentrated on the task in hand. He wanted to play this record from the top, so he placed his index finger on the record label and began rewinding the song, spinning the vinyl in the opposite direction until the sound ceased in his ear, announcing that he had found the beginning. He cued it up, checking to make sure that all of the levels were correct on the mixer before moving the crossfader back over to channel one. As soon as he let go of the record it would play over the speakers. Here goes nothing, he thought to himself, and released the record. The crowd didn't know what to expect, and when the piano started playing they were more than a little confused. The saxophone came in and the crowd didn't know what to do. Some of them sensed that this was going to be different and started to get their groove on. When the beat began to subtly present itself the ones not dancing took note, and as the treble and bass began to entwine they began to move their feet in time with the beat. They muttered to themselves that this was definitely something different, something they hadn't heard before. A few hardcore Trance fans looked on with contempt at those who had converted to whatever it was that was now playing. They listened as the sounds built up steadily until they reached a head, and at this point the bass dropped out leaving just the sound of the instruments. A female voice began to sing; "You are the one who gets me in the groove, who makes me jump and sway and sing. You are the one, I'd give my heart to you, lets just keep this feeling." A series of rises and falls took the song up to a height, and then a male voice announced "Income the DJ Vibe" just as the break came in, surging as it dropped the bass back in, and suddenly the female vocalist was singing further verses, her voice perfectly complemented by the sweet beat. Nikolai smiled as he saw more and more people getting on the dance floor. This was something that he missed, being able to entertain people in such a way. He'd judged the audience correctly, and it was time to take them on a journey. He decided that he would bring in some US Garage first, allowing them to get into the groove before he dropped some of the harder stuff from the UK. Out of the record case he brought Johnny Corporate's `Groove Me' and placed it on the right-hand turntable. He pressed the `33' button to set the platter to thirty-three RPM and brought the needle over, placing it at the start of the song. After adjusting the sound level in his headphones he rewound the record to the start and then cued it up. He scratched the first beat while he waited for the intro song's beat to come full circle, and when it did he released the second record and listened in the headphones. The beats began to clash. He determined that the second record was playing too slow, so he placed his right hand on the pitch slider and began pulling it towards him, increasing the pitch of the record. At +4 he stopped and listened again. The beats were still not in synch, so he placed his index finger on the rim of the platter and pressed lightly, slowing down the record until it was in time with the beat of the first record. He then adjusted the pitch again until he was sure that the two records were beat matched. After rewinding the second record and cueing it up he was ready to bring it in. By flicking the crossfader into the centre on alternate beats of the second record and then straight back out he `punched' the record in, a technique which gave the crowd a taste of what was to come. After a few `punches' he slowly moved the crossfader into the centre, and as it moved the second record became gradually more audible until the songs were both playing at the same time. The crowd reacted favourably at the smooth mix, and Nikolai grinned as he selected his next track. Outside the DJ Booth May 3rd, 2008, 0014 hours "We were very impressed," the Suited Man said as he shook Nikolai's hand. Nikolai didn't say anything, just smiled slightly. Suited Man continued, "I have spoken with my associates and we would like to offer you a job here. We feel that the club would benefit from having different musical styles played, and you would gain valuable experience from working here." He's really trying to sell it, Nikolai thought. "I would love to," he replied, "but I can't." The Suited Man looked disappointed. "I'm going to America in two days to try and get work over there. I have a friend over there," he explained, "and he said that Garage is going to be getting a lot more exposure over the next year, so I should be able to get work in a club." The Suited Man appeared to think that over for a second, then asked, "Do you have a number I could reach you on?" Nikolai froze. He hadn't thought of that, so he was forced to give out his mobile number. He would have to tell Sergei and get it changed fast, lest he become compromised. He shook the man's hand again and turned to Bogdanov, who was holding the record case, and signalled for them to leave, which they did after locating Olesya. A new DJ had stepped up onto the decks, and the sound of Trance began to seep from the speakers as the trio left the club. Return |
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