Two hundred and one people on this dance floor and they‘re here only because I’m here. I select the music, the arrangement, and when to transition. The rhythm at which they dance. They listen to me. Well. you could argue it’s those artists they listen to, but it’s me who they do it through. Good music comes and goes — it's part of my responsibility to decide. I’m the DJ. I’ll admit it. I’m a narcissist.
But that isn’t why I get to play at the best events. It’s because I’m great at what I do. My taste is impeccable. How else can you explain how I got to play at my first event when I was just 16? even though the minimum age is 18? Egbon has good taste and Game recognizes Game.
At one of the clubs where I DJ, a rich politician once offered to buy me my first Turntable, in return, I’d have to make a mixtape for his party’s campaign. But he got upsold by a rich businessman from Aba who said the last song I played reminded him of when he was a youth. You see, my selections are far from random, I always know what the people want to hear. Since then I have only DJed at important events. I’ve met with several big artists— ones worthy of being featured on a playlist like mine.
I know my role and I excel at it. I control the spotlight. Occasionally, I indulge myself, because, why not? I’ve earned it. More often than not, I bestow the favor upon the most deserving couples. Their skills, their passion, they catch my eye.
But sometimes, I choose to be benevolent, I shine it on the least suspecting ones. I watch them, analyze them, and see their potential, their unexplored talents. I select the perfect track. Something that makes their bodies move in ways that please the crowd. They become the stars, their performance so unexpected, that it shocks themselves even. I’m not just a DJ, I’m a god.
Inevitably, the music stops. The dawn is for recovery. I sleep for a few hours then the hunt for new tracks begins. I sift through the garbage, judge. Only the exceptional ones make it to my collection. Then get ready for another night. Rinse and repeat. It’s a beautiful cycle.
But nothing good lasts forever, because, when the music stops, so does my dominion. The people don’t remember me. The DJ! All that applause, the adoration — gone! And I’m a mere mortal again. It’s my insatiable love for attention that drove me to acquire a manager. He’s working on some collaboration deals with some artists. He wants me to put my playlists on these music streaming apps — that the internet has a lot to offer. Maybe there’s more to this game than just the booth.
