quasify

There are certain expectations a crowd places on the wedding DJ, based on the familiarity of past experience and an underlying genetic need to sing along with Jon Bon Jovi. I was DJ’ing a wedding in Portland Saturday and have been sorting my enjoyable yet acrimonious experience into a generalizable classification structure.

1) The Organizers. In this case, bride, groom and respective immediate families. They’re happiest when the alterna-playlist is adhered to (Morissey, The Smiths, Death Cab for Cutie).

2) The Drunk 78 year olds. They really, really want to hear Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra. And turn the bass down.

3) The Drunk 58 year olds. They really, really want to hear Mony Mony (the Tommy James & the Shondells version, not Billy Idol), some GD Motown and Bruce Springsteen would be ok too. And turn the friggin’ bass up.

4) The Drunk 38 year olds. They really, really want to hear some Sir Mix A Lot. Their friend is finally getting married and it’s time for a cacophonous call-response about their love of big butts.

Unfortunately my study is incomplete as sample size and demographic inevitability didn’t allow for the inclusion of drunk 18 year olds. One could presume this group would have had the most interesting and foreign perspective on the current ass-shaking sonic landscape.