October 29. 2024

DJing - A Meassure of Melody

Learn How Count Meassure as a DJ

» by Danni Miller

I often find myself reflecting on a poignant moment when I realized I wanted to become a DJ. If you can, try and picture me in my friend's attic. It was cluttered, a sanctuary of forgotten vinyl and makeshift turntables. Man I love old vinyl. We breathed in dust and nostalgia, busying ourselves with the tinkering and troubleshooting that came naturally to us wannabe disc jockeys. There, surrounded by the echoes of someone else's past, I had my epiphany.

In those early days, music was more magic than mechanics; measures, BPMs, mixes—they were foreign concepts tangling like yarn in my mind. A mess, truly. Not unlike how I felt about bubblegum pop at age thirteen.

But learning—you see, learning is the key. An endless melody to master.

Let’s start with something deceptively simple: measures. They frame the music, the beats within, a scaffolding atop which rhythms lay. I picture measures as chapters in a paperback novel, guiding the narrative from beginning to end with beats filling pages by the second. For a DJ, understanding measures isn't just about feeling the music, but anticipating it. It's that secret handshake between you and the crowd, a wink as you guide them to the next crescendo.

Learning to count measures, I must confess, took me back to childhood piano lessons. My teacher used to rap the metronome against the piano top when I'd lose my timing. I might have bruised my pride a bit back then, but it was essential training I didn't appreciate enough at the time.

Then there’s BPM—beats per minute—that hypnotic pulse that defines the pace of your mix. The heart of it all, quite literally. Music, after all, dances in our hearts first before it ever reaches our feet. Imagine you're in that bustling square of Rome, where time sweetly meanders like a lazy river. The cafe's ambience mingles with street musicians playing to the tune of their life's stories—each instrument marching to its own BPM. That's the beauty of mixing: knowing how to weave those stories together.

Mastering these fundamental elements requires an intricate blend of skill and intuition. You must become fluent in the language of music, sensitive to shifts in energy and key signatures. Imagine attempting to write a haiku without understanding syllable counts—music without mastering these basic mechanics is no different.

For the dexterous DJ, turntables become an extension of oneself, akin to an artist wielding brushes or a poet his pen. It's in blending those disparate beats and melodies together that you're not just playing tracks—you're painting emotion, telling unspoken tales through soundwaves.

Perhaps the greatest skill—a lesson learned after many scratched records and misfires—is listening. Really listening.

In workshops, often amid laughter and gentle ribbing, mentors stressed the importance of not just hearing but listening. Listen to those who inspire you but linger too on the whispers of unexpected sounds. Souls of forgotten vinyl echo tales with surprising clarity when given the chance.

And therein lies the secret that took me across threshold after threshold: Let every session be both a carefully crafted journey for your listeners, and a story unto itself for you. The mastery of music, the craft of DJing, lies in eternal discovery and the conversations between measures, beats, and soul.

Isn’t it fascinating how it all circles back to learning—not only about techniques or compositions, but of oneself as you enjoy the ride? So the needle drops and the journey begins anew. With open ears and a creative heart, sky’s the limit.

You've got this. Let's listen. Let's learn. Together.