I would love to be a DJ – but in a parallel universe, where the rules and environment are completely different from what we have to endure in this universe.
Let me explain further.
It is possible to become a DJ in this universe and you can do so in the following easy steps:
(1) Learn to love the sound of your own voice. It’s bad enough having to listen to commercials on the radio, but it might be better if at the end of yet another dreadful advert, another song was played. Instead, all you get is what sounds like a buffoon talking utter crap for about ten minutes. I didn’t think it was possible to talk nonsense every day for a few hours – but it is. Here’s an example:
(2) Fake enthusiasm. DJ’s sound like the happiest people on the planet laughing raucously at even the most mundane garbage.
(3) Acquire a massive ego. A lot of DJ’s consider themselves to be the best of the best:
“Listen to me – I’m great! I may really be a fat offensive egomaniac but nobody loves me as much as I do – and since I’m great that’s all that counts. Now give me lots of money while I offend everybody.”
(4) Invent stupid phone-ins. I have never understood why people phone in to give their opinions on mundane subjects spouted forth from the mouths of DJ’s. Even DJ’s on rock radio stations do this. For example:
“We asked you to give us names of songs that sound like bodily functions. Here’s Frank Plank from Stockport. Hi Frank – what have you got for us?”
“Hi Dave – I’ve got three.”
“Three? This should be good. Come on Frank.”
“First – WEE are the Champions by Queen”.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! Nice one Frank! And the next?”
“Next – Fart for Fart’s Sake by 10cc”
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! Even better Frank – he said FART! Did you hear that listeners? You are so funny, Frank.”
“Last – Poo are you? by (wait for it)
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! Frank – I think you are the funniest man I’ve ever spoken too.”
(5) Sell your soul to the music industry. Most people have a broad spectrum when it comes to musical taste but radio stations tend not to allow us to explore available music. A DJ in this country is restricted by the playlist – a list of songs and artists that are acceptable to invisible music moguls and the radio station. How else do you explain this load of old crap?
Both the song and the video are just WRONG!
You can practice becoming a DJ by getting a job as a presenter on a shopping channel. That will give you excellent preparation for talking about nothing for hours and hours:
“This biro is fantastic. Look at the sleek shape? You can even write letters with it. Can you believe that? Here – let me show you. See how the ink comes out smoothly as I write my name? You don’t have to write MY name – you can write YOUR OWN name. That’s how versatile it is. You can write any words in the Oxford English Dictionary with this biro. And even make up YOUR OWN words – like BOGGLEDYFART! See what I did there? And look at the colour of the ink. Blue. Really useful. And how much does this biro cost? £4.32. And we are GIVING it away for that price; GIVING IT AWAY. You should phone now – we only have a few left. Demand is high. And I will spend the next hour talking about how fantastic this biro is – and then I will sell more of them tomorrow. Because demand will be so high that they will go. Get this bargain now – while limited stocks last. Phone the number on the bottom of your screen to get this excellent bargain. For those of you who can’t read – the number is 12124322322383726274646. And the price? £4.32 – you are robbing me. Come on – while I’m in this mad generous mood. You know it makes sense …”
And on and on and on and on and on it goes.
Even my local rock radio station winds me up. When it started, the claim was “No boy bands on our radio station.” Which may be a great claim – but once you have listened to the shows for a few weeks, you end up hearing:
The same adverts played over and over again ad nauseam.
The same inane banter between “the team” repeated over and over ad nauseam.
The same crazy phone-ins repeated over and over again ad nauseam.
When they get round to playing songs (around once every half an hour), it is the same songs I heard yesterday – and the day before – and the day before – and the month before.
I’ve decided that if I can find a way to open up a portal into an alternate universe, I will become a DJ and guarantee that I expose as much music as possible to my listeners.
Adverts will be banned.
I will not have a single phone-in.
I will minimise talking.
And I definitely will NOT play Macarena.