Over the weekend the words posted on social media accounts by Canadian artist Tiga had a lot of people talking.
In a post that appeared on his Facebook, Twitter and Instagram, Tiga opened up and discussed a subject rarely tackled in the world of electronic music: it’s simply impossible for a DJ to have a perfect set every single time. Peers and music fans alike weighed in, and how could they not after reading such a singular perspective from an artist as recognized as him.
Ultimately, Tiga shined a light on a side of electronic music culture that is sometimes easy to lose track of but that remains essential for the true artistry of the genre we love to flourish and prosper: the human element.
Yet, this business side shouldn’t obfuscate the human aspect that has always been and needs to always be at the root of the music that drives this entire operation. On one side we have the artist, the producer, the DJ, the remixer, the VJ, the vocalist and even the promoter, all of whom are directly responsible for keeping electronic music human through their unique artistry, vision and creations. On the other, we have the “operators” of this industry whose business acumen we hope is polished, refined and constantly tested. There is a need for cynicism and somewhat of a cold-blooded mentality on behalf of thelatter, which include nightclub and venue owners, festival organizers, talent-buyers, promoters, etc, for without it we would never have successful festivals, club nights and all the other business platforms and ventures that keep this industry moving forward.
But there is one element in this complex equation that we haven’t examined yet: YOU. The avid music aficionado. The club-goer. The festival wristband collector. The fan that travels to other continents to explore new music cultures and to catch acts that are so elusive back home. When it is all said and done and we look past the artists and the business guys involved with this machine, we find that one irreplaceable cog that is so fundamentally vital for all of this to exist in the first place. You are the reason all of this exists. You fill up the dance floors. You set your alarm clock and ready up five browsers in order to snatch festival tickets before they sell out. You pay that $20 cover to get in at the warehouse party at 2am. You follow your favorite artist’s releases. You support your local scene and DJs before they blow up. You keep up with news relating to this industry. You contribute to the advancement of our culture by fostering dialogue and being actively and constructively involved.
Without you we wouldn’t be here. Without you there wouldn’t be nightclubs. There would be no festivals. There would be no afterhours and warehouse parties. And without you there would ultimately be no need for DJs and little by little it can be argued that even producers would lose the desire to translate all their passions and emotions into new music if there were no ears to listen to the finished product.
You are the first human element of this complex machine we call electronic music culture, and as such you have a big responsibility in keeping the human factor alive. The replies to Tiga’s post were varied in nature, but included several along the lines of, “Tiga you’re amazing. Rome sucks, it’s not your fault.” Those who commented in this fashion totally missed the point of Tiga’s post and were de facto disagreeing with the very message he was trying to get across. As the person paying to be on the dance floor you’re the first one with a vested interest in being real and putting aside the “fanboy” mentality that is often so pervasive in our world. Tiga admitted he failed to do his job properly, and was the first to put his hands forward and offer the kind of mea culpa we never get to witness from artists of his caliber. He didn’t want to be defended. He didn’t want others to forward justifications on his behalf and he surely did not want his “reputation” to be used as a way to rationalize why he under-performed that night in Rome.
Tiga wanted to be real. He wanted to be honest, and in doing so he introduced all of us to a side of international touring DJs we seldom get a peek of. He wanted to break the routine that sees our social media timelines often filled with “OMG _______ killed it last night!!!!” posts the morning after any given club night. The truth is that not every single set is a success. Not every single club night is a blast. Not every festival is a perfect execution and blend of organization and top-notch musical performances. There’s club nights that go horribly wrong. Nights where we witness half-empty dance floors. Nights where DJs struggle to get a groove going and walk away from the booth disappointed. It happens. It’s part of the human aspect that drives the music and, ultimately, this entire industry.
As music fans we must learn that it is perfectly okay to pass negative judgement on a performance, without having to label it as a death sentence and without sweeping it under the rug as “hate” either. You, the paying music fan, have purchased your right to be on that dance floor and as a fan are the first with the right to state when a DJ did not kill it or under-performed. While we realize that music is ultimately always subjective it is also true that bad sets happen to every single DJ. No one can be perfect and we know full well that it would be statistically impossible for artists who play up to 200 times in a year to constantly produce 100% perfect sets. We must learn to not let the artist’s reputation overshadow the actual performance before our eyes, as Tiga himself points out.
Similarly, artists must learn to objectively read negative tweets or other social media comments and to do a little introspection before bashing their very own fans on social media for “hating” or “being negative.” What if you simply didn’t kill it the night before? What if your track-selection was off? Is it possible that your programming wasn’t up to the standards you’ve been holding yourself up to for the last few years? Could it be that your set didn’t flow with the overall music direction of the night? Is it entirely possible that your arduous touring schedule took a little out of you resulting in a sub-par performance? It’s ok to err. It’s ok to be human. And it’s also ok to admit it. And it’s infinitely better to hear and read honest feedback from fans that truly follow your music and care, than to just focus on the blind fanboy adoration posts that constantly claim “your set was lit last night” when it wasn’t the case. It goes without saying that DJs will always encounter the bellend of the night who simply enjoys social media trolling, but it’s important to learn how to discern such “criticism” from that borne out of real love and passion for the music the DJ produces and/or plays.
The music listener and ticket-buyer who has decided to spend their hard-earned money and time to go out and listen to a DJ perform has every right to give their honest opinion on that performance. Learning to be human means breaking these mental mechanisms. Being human means accepting we all make mistakes, even when we are considered to be one of the best in our league. Part of being human is being able to listen to criticism with an open-mind and to take away key lessons from it to constantly better yourself as an artist. Failure to admit your mistakes or that you’re capable of an off-night only leads to lack of personal progress, and, eventually, will damage your career and the future of this industry.
A friend of mine recently told me, “If I wasn’t doing my job well I would want for someone to tell me!” The same should be for every single producer and DJ out there. Constructive criticism is not only good, but it’s vital for progress and improvement. This is especially so when it’s honest and it comes from the very people who have put their own money and time on the line to support your career.
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