October 29. 2024
The Initial Setup to Becoming a DJ
Becoming a Dj Should Be Treated as a Business- You Are a Sole Proprietor
» by Danni Miller
Sometime during my university years, back when cassette tapes still clung to the edges of obsolescence, I found myself in the middle of a dingy garage with a turntable I'd overpaid for. No manual, wires everywhere, and there I was—hoping to weave melody out of chaos. You see, I decided to become a DJ (checkout my guide on how to do it) which I have done a couple of times but with little seriousness and I might add success until later, which, as life hilariously unfolds, was akin to becoming a sole proprietor. It was a humble business venture. I just didn't know it yet.
The first revelation - understanding the market and your target audience isn't something you figure out between beats overnight. It's like learning to read the room, and the room changes every Saturday. Back in those days, before algorithms decided half our music choices, socializing was the art of understanding which genre would draw out the shoe-tappers and the dancers from their corners. I'd scour forums, mix tapes, attend underground gigs; all these, plus a little ear-to-the-ground chatter. That's market research, folks, wrapped up in rhythm and melody, seeking that magic frequency people want but don't yet know they need.
Then, of course, there’s the equipment. Oh, the joy! The logistical spirals of tech treasure hunting. That is, turntables that sparkle (or at least don't sputter!), sleek mixers, and speakers ready to vibrate every brick of that aging venue. Acquiring the gear was a journey in itself, comparable to collecting keys to the hidden realms of sound. It meant navigating unending lists, comparing specs with a curious mix of wonder and confusion and all on a budget tighter than a setlist at closing hour. I even earned a few gray hairs haggling over wax with a record store owner who resembled a kindly wizard, in retrospect. Investing, borrowing, begging—a rite of becoming.
Business plan, you might say, is this the corporatization of art? Please, more like a maturity rite. Like a musical blueprint, creating a business plan solidified intention. Breaking down ambitions into brass tacks: gigs per month hopes versus realistic bookings, potential revenues, and—yes—lifelong indebtedness of fulfilling one's passions. Standing amidst tattered notebook pages, it gradually hit me. This wasn’t just spinning records; it was orchestrating an enterprise.
From basics to flourish, the brand identity crafted. When the era of MySpace, flyers, and a business card required memorable silhouettes, it was about more than just slapping a catchy name on a gig listing; it was a declaration. Sketching logos on diner napkins or toying with stage names that rolled off the tongue—not too sugary, with a touch of mystery (DJ Danni M anyone?). Style speaks before the beat drops. It echoes through colors, attire, vibes, vibes less tangible, more unforgettable.
Yes, the regulatory gravity rests with permits and licenses. You dance daringly and think licenses later, but the seasoned performer knows better. Registering the business turned into more than a formality; it was legitimacy stapled, stamped locked in a drawer somewhere. Permits became my guarantee that music filled the night, legally sanctioned. No clashes of cymbals at the door when paperwork wasn't frontline-ready—an authentic smash of plans against unaccommodating bureaucracy—less a small business lesson, more of a universal one.
Becoming a DJ? An elegant masquerade of sole proprietorship. A dance between creativity and commerce, entirely unique, terrifyingly exhilarating. Every bass drop, every skyline lit by set-openers played reverence to that entrepreneur pulse. As I look back, pushed forward by dreams tempered through soft glows of midnight neon, I relished each echoed track. Each silent step towards something heart-led, build-forged to echo far beyond the breathable beats.