Rhythm and Ray: A DJ’s Journey

[Chapter 33: Silly Song]

New York, Queens, JFK Airport.

As evening approached, Deadmau5 and his group had waited for three hours at the designated meeting spot when they finally spotted the late arrivals, Ryan and Joel. The two looked entirely disheveled. Ryan's hair was a mess, his forehead beaded with sweat, as he struggled with two duffel bags in his left hand and a suitcase in his right. Joel, missing his glasses and with his shirt sleeve inexplicably torn off, was panting heavily.

"The subway in New York is like a maze. We got on the wrong train and ran into a crazy person in the car..." Ryan gulped down an entire bottle of water.

"I told you never to enter an empty subway car in New York," Joel said, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe his brow.

"And then this kid stole Joel's phone," Ryan added.

"I just bought that iPhone! I could send LOLcats pictures on it. Well, let's not dwell on that. Luckily, Ryan ran fast enough," Joel patted Ryan on the shoulder.

"He ran for his life while I chased him down, and in the end, even the kid couldn't keep up and handed the phone back," Ryan nodded.

"Then we rushed over here," Joel said, checking his watch.

"We shouldn't be too late... right?" Ryan chuckled awkwardly. Joel had chosen Southwest Airlines to save on baggage fees, but the cramped seats were the least of their worries. The flight didn't land at JFK but at LaGuardia Airport, so they had been scrambling ever since, only to end up going the wrong way, which triggered a series of unfortunate events. Thankfully, Ryan had lived in the city for a bit over a year.

Marvin, Deadmau5's manager, wiped his face with his hand, looking as if he'd just swallowed a fly.

"Are these two reliable?" he turned and leaned closer to Deadmau5, whispering.

Deadmau5 also looked a bit awkward, noting their mountain of luggage. "So, are you two moving to New York?"

Joel noticed that Deadmau5's group hardly had any gear and quickly spun a tale. "You know, to ensure the best performance, we usually bring our own equipment."

It was clear that the two didn't have much experience performing. Deadmau5 facepalmed.

"We still have an hour to reach the club in Harlem. If there's no traffic on the RFK Bridge, we can still make it on time," Marvin said with a smile, but suddenly his expression changed, and he roared, "That is, if you two can get this junk loaded onto the van in one minute, now hurry!"

...

Fortunately, the RFK Bridge wasn't jammed, and the driver was decent, giving Ryan and Joel just fifteen minutes to prepare. But it still wasn't enough time to change their setup.

"Ryan, did you notice something strange around here?" Joel, fiddling with the cables, looked up.

"Yeah, there are quite a few Black people at this club," Ryan said, nodding.

Inside the club, a large crowd had gathered, predominantly Black, which was unusual. At the Ultra Music Festival, the number of Black attendees had been quite small.

That didn't mean Black people lacked talent in electronic music; in fact, the genre had strong ties to Black culture, and American music was largely influenced by it. Genres like house and techno were pioneered by Black artists, including veterans like Carl Cox and Dr. Dre, who made their first DJ performances in front of audiences. But overall, Black folks generally didn't gravitate toward electronic music.

"It's pretty normal; Black parties usually blast hip-hop. It's like a new form of segregation in the 21st century. You can break down a physical wall with a hammer, but tearing down the walls in people's minds is a different story. There are more Black people here because we're in Harlem, a hub for the Black community in Manhattan," Joel explained quietly.

"Is this what they mean by 'Black cultural renaissance'?" Ryan recalled discussions he'd had with Abigail.

"Exactly! During the Great Depression, seventy percent of the people here were Black, leading to a wave of Black writers, poets, and theaters. This place is a cultural origin point for America. Street culture evolved much later; hip-hop didn't emerge until after that," Joel continued.

"So, here's the question: if Black people don't like electronic music and we have so many of them here..." Ryan felt an ominous premonition.

"Just play it by ear! We'll switch to hip-hop if they're not into electronic music. They can't kick us out, can they?" Joel said confidently.

Ryan nodded.

...

The initial acts went fairly well, with Joel dropping a classic mix that got the crowd warmed up. Ryan planned to jump in at the key moment with his track, Tremor.

"Put your hands up!" Ryan shouted, bouncing with the rhythm, lifting both hands high.

But nobody responded. The club lights were dim, and Ryan could only make out glimpses of white smiles -- those were the teeth of the Black audience -- which was a sight that could only be described as eerie.

Ryan returned to the DJ booth.

"We've got to change the track," Joel began spinning the turntables, but an overpowering bass line from Tremor boomed abruptly, creating a deafening roar.

"Crap!" In the hurry, Joel adjusted the knob to dial down the volume.

Suddenly, all sounds cut out, leaving the audience in shocked silence as they exchanged glances. "What just happened!" Joel's forehead was slick with sweat, and he moved in a panic.

"I got this," Ryan took over for Joel.

"Then I'll control the field!" Joel took a deep breath and grabbed a nearby microphone.

"Uh, it seems we've run into some equipment issues. We're gearing up to play your favorite hip-hop, bump, bump, bump, tititaka." Joel flailed his arms, trying a bit of beatboxing.

Silence engulfed the crowd.

"How about I tell you a joke, haha?" Joel laughed awkwardly, like an anxious host caught off guard during a live broadcast due to technical difficulties.

"I can prove God is Black!" Joel exclaimed.

"You wanna know why? Because everyone calls him Father, but... no one has ever seen Him!"

"Uh, let's try another! Do you know what Nike and the KKK have in common?"

A wave of boos erupted from the crowd.

"They both can make Black people run faster!"

...

"Misunderstanding, that kid has mental problems! I just got the report! I swear, there is absolutely no offense intended!" Marvin was arguing with the nightclub staff at the entrance.

"Oh no!" Joel wiped his tears with a tissue, accidentally brushing against the bruise on his eye, causing him to wince in pain. Luckily, Ryan had pulled him away just in time, and being in Harlem spared them a trip to a rougher neighborhood like Brooklyn or the Bronx, or Joel would have likely ended up in serious trouble.

Deadmau5 slumped into a couch, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Ryan was on his phone, checking for flights back to Nashville for the next day. Their planned three-day engagement in New York was effectively over.

After a while, Ryan stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him, still hearing Marvin's furious shouting.

"Idiot! You've messed everything up!"

...

Ryan walked down the hallway back to the club's stage area. He needed to find a way to retrieve the electronic gear, which was Joel's most expensive property, more valuable than his car, without inciting the anger of the crowd.

With the electronic performance canceled, the club had transformed into a hip-hop haven. Ryan noticed several Black female dancers on stage busting out dance moves.

The club turned into a dance hall, where he saw people busting a type of swing dance that originated in Harlem. With their legs firmly planted, their upper bodies convulsed as if electric, a style known as the Harlem Shake.

In that moment, Ryan was hit with a sense of deja vu. The deep bass beats reportedly echoed with reverb and delay, making the brass sounds pop.

♫

¡Con los terroristas!

Ta, ta, ta

Ta, ta, ta, ta

Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta

Then do the Harlem Shake

♫

As the melody played, scenes flashed through Ryan's mind -- completely different from the Tremor music video. This time, snippets featuring people engaging in normal activities -- going to class, working, exercising, cooking, eating -- quickly changed to people in bizarre costumes dancing in sync with the Harlem Shake, performing a variety of strange dance moves.

It felt like viral videos on YouTube, but this was different. These videos were getting replicated and shared, spreading like a virus in a continuous cycle of replication.

Ryan thought about the LOLcats memes Joel had been collecting.

Even though it was a silly song, it had the potential to become a cultural internet meme. Ryan considered that picking a silly song was a way to gain quick fame.

*****

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