DJ on board: Sound check
By Rex Catubig
IN days primeval, man was without the concept of sound.
Because he had to deal with wildlife most of the time, as he listened to them, he began to imitate the sounds they made to one another. And doing so, he uttered his first words, and speech was born.
As he heard the chirping of the birds, he tried to copy the melodic regurgitation, and he started to sing.
Surprised, he beat his chest and clapped his hands. And thus, began rhythm.
Delighted at what his body can do, he stomped his feet and jumped up and down. And dance became the expression of his being.
Man then developed these faculties to the fullest and became second nature to him.
Song, dance, music thus evolved with him.
In the Bangus Fest Araw ng Kabataan May 1st Music Fest, modern DJ’s lorded the stage. More than Ben and Ben, or JK, it was an act close to my heart that I easily related to as it catapulted me to the music scene I was a part of.
DJ is actually an old fashion concept, coined around 1935 meaning disc jockey—one who spins and plays vinyl records in radio stations as opposed to the radio announcer.
In the 70’s discotheques began replacing live bands called combo, with the playing of mostly 33rpm LP records by an unseen technician. They were the DJ’s reborn—behind the scene at first then crossed over to the limelight.
Discotheque was rebranded as disco in the middle 70’s and became a worldwide phenomenon owing to the movie Saturday Night Live that featured the sexy gyration of John Travolta on a checkered lighted acrylic dance floor. This reached fever pitch in the 80’s with the seductive music of Madonna and company.
Disco, as the dance clubs were called, was the hall of worship in my youth. You go there to shake your body, flail your arms up in the air, and whirl like dervish dancers. It’s like in the religious service of what are called “holy rollers”, where the emotive power of songs is translated into dynamic body movements.
Disco music is cathartic. It exorcises you of toxic thoughts and feelings. Dancing to the riveting, throbbing, pulsating sounds obliterates bad vibes. While yoga frees you in silence, disco dunks you in deafening decibel.
It also unifies. In a disco, whoever you are, wherever you are from, whatever your biases and prejudices are, all these are blasted away under the glare of dancing lights and you are fused with generic humanity. Lost in eruptive big-bang sound, you become one in body, one in motion. For the duration of the sound blast, you share the same existential spirit. You are jettisoned from the shackles of convention and plunged into strange modes of self -expression. You are energized, yet remain cool.
The disco in my time, transported us into flower-power high, and psychedelic nonchalance. We were set ablaze as Led Zeppelin rallied us to: “Come on, baby, light my fire!”. And there ensued the lightness of our being
It’s probably the same with the Gen Z as they yell their lungs out into a state of existential orgasm.
They are reborn, they are reinvented, they enter into a covenant of life eternal. Because youth lasts only as long as the fire in your groin rages, and for as long as the DJ spins your music.
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