The fingers did the singing then...

My journey into the abyss started when I was about twenty years old. I term it as abyss for the sole reason that I had no clue as to what was expected or what was my objective even. All I knew was that I wanted to learn. I got introduced to DJ Sara at that time by my former employer at Stage 4. He told me that I can learn a lot from someone like Sara and that I should stick with him and observe how he works. Taking his words like it was from the bible, I engaged in moving closely with Sara.

Before I knew Sara, all I ever knew what to do at the console was to switch from song to song without leaving a moment’s of silence in between. I would track the end time of the last song and play the next one just in time before the previous song ends. Seems a little idiot proof when it is articulated in words but I had to charge a great deal of brain cells to learn that technique, shorting some along the way. I used to head to Club A almost every day at that time. I can’t quite remember if it was before I entered army or after. My memory lets me down on many occasions. But nevertheless, the gist of this is that I was turning up at Club A almost every day of my life. Regardless of whether it was a Monday or a dull Thursday, Club A was my cradle and I had to return to it after work or school. I would observe what he did. I would take mental notes of how he does and how he keeps the crowd going. Notes about how song selections play the most important role in keeping or losing the crowd. I would carve these notes on my brain so that I may never forget his words. He was patient, kind and above all a guru who taught me how to be better. He showed me more than what I asked and he trusted me with knowledge. Soon enough, I grew better at spinning. I would be able to handle mobile disco events confidently and be rewarded with applause from the crowd at the end of the event. A simple guerdon for the silent DJ behind the console. I was made to spin at cruises and places such as the American Club when I was merely twenty or younger. I remember entering the American Club with a flight case filled with CDs and a CD pouch. I felt small in that huge lobby. Someone came up to me, escorted me into the lift, followed me to the console and left me there. I felt like royalty. Did they know that I was shivering under my clothes? I would guess not. Cruises are the best. I have recollection of how even granny’s clad in the traditional Saris were moving to songs like ‘Ride with me’ and ‘Country Grammer’. To think about it, they didn’t have any choice because they were in a ship surrounded by water. Where would they go to? Either they stay and enjoy or start their swim back to the nearest land. I would not forget one of such cruises that I did. But that memory serves for a different purpose.

I remember my first time going solo at Club A. Sara called me up and said he was very sick. I could sense it in his voice that he was down with flu or something. He asked me to take him over at Club A for that night. Goodness, it was a Saturday night. If you remember well, about years ago Saturdays were the hottest nights at Club A. Well, it was the hottest nights for clubbers in any case. I was dumbstruck. Clearly I wasn’t touted a virtuoso in that line of work. I was still learning and I hadn’t built so much of confidence to run the deck on my own. Not given any other option I agreed. Hence I took it on. I was waiting outside the club even before the cleaner was there to open it. The moment he came, I started writing the songs for the night, splitting them up into three sets for the night. I wrote and mixed the songs before hand to make sure I got everything right. The BPM, the tempos, the cue points and everything else that I needed to reaffirm before Showtime. Club opened and sprawled in the crowd bit by bit. The first set is always the easiest. The crowd size would be fairly small and busy kick starting their objective to get high, or drunk for that matter. The second set was when the jitters came in. My fingers were trembling. I couldn’t think. All I could do was to recap what I practiced earlier and execute it. Along the way of the second set, there were songs that did not hit the BPMs. The beats would crash and burn but I somehow managed to get the songs going. To my surprise, the crowd was enjoying the songs. It was almost as if they didn’t know it was someone else at the console. Did someone notice that I screwed the mixes for some songs? I don’t know and it doesn’t matter now. But from way up there where the console was, I could see shadows and throngs of peoples gyrating away. Third set was just as awesome. The mixes went about sequacious and I kept the mood going. That was the time when the song ‘Jenny from the Block’ and ‘I wanna take you home’ were blasting radio waves. Taking the easy way out, I played all those numbers that I know will be loved. Mainstream numbers that gave me some itch of confidence that would not fail me. It wasn’t all that bad after all. I was high on the sense of accomplishment. Not even the bar or the waiters had any complains. Not that I was proud and had my head high above the clouds but I was just glad that I did not let Sara down. My first day spinning solo at the hottest Indian club was when I was an amateur.

Along the way I gained more insights to the art and I slowly got the hang of speaking over the microphone. Till date I never cultivated the habit of speaking over the microphone. I only speak when necessary and that was an attribute handed down by Sara. I learnt how to be aggressive with my song choice and mixes rather than using my vocals much. But every DJ has to be able to work a microphone. Hence I picked it up. I remember how my boss at Stage 4 used to praise me and would give me the look of appreciation when I used to do mobile events after that. He noticed a vast change in the way I played my music and he was clearly happy if not impressed with the accomplishment. My friends noticed, people noticed and I was glad. But don’t get me wrong here because I am not blowing my trumpet but merely sharing my personal experiences in the art of Disc Jockeying. It was great fun working with Vishnu as well. A friend, and a colleague after some point. He would give me such pressure with his introductions upon the opening of the dance floor. Dharmesh would be around handling the lights and smoking up the place. Soon enough you’d barely be able to see past a metre with the amount of fog he releases. He had such fascination over the smoke machine and the lights. The fun we three used to have at these events was amazing. Not many are gifted to see that many weddings and birthdays within the span of the eight decades they live. But we had that honour and privilege.

I used to spin solo on more occasions at Club A after that. Strangely, I could never spin proper with Sara next to me. It is almost like writing an exam with your teacher watching you. I would fumble and stumble with him around but when he isn’t, I’d be prancing like a puppy on a grill. We used to have small competitions such that he will start with a song and I’m supposed to mix another then he goes then I go. Obviously he was better at it. But I tried keeping up. Failed miserably on many occasions but he, I tried. In my defence, he was GOOD! I would have people telling me that I did an awesome job for the night when I would go down to get a drink. My friends would pop by and listen and would tell me where I went wrong and help me make it better. It was one part of my life that holds very fond memories still. I remember that my last event spinning was at Orchid Country Club. A friend’s family’s wedding reception. After that day, I left the trade of spinning entirely.

For those of you reading this please understand a DJ’s dilemma. You can ask for any song under the stars and there are high chances that the DJ would play it. But if its an old number or one that does not go along with the mood that was set, then high chances that a DJ would not play that number. Because people sometimes fail to understand that they aren’t the only ones in the club. There are so many others who are enjoying the music and atmosphere. One song could lose the crowd and getting them back on the dance floor will be a challenge from then on. But if you find a dance floor totally empty and NO ONE is dancing, well then that is your cue to speak to the DJ to change the songs. Else, let the rest of them enjoy the music even if you aren’t. A humble request to all you nocturnal dance critters.

I remember that my last event spinning was at Orchid Country Club. A friend’s family’s wedding reception. After that day, I left the trade of spinning entirely. Dharmesh and myself were there. As usual he was lights and I was sound. I had loads of fun with that event and I do not have any regrets to how it went. The crowd enjoyed and so did I. An event apt to bow out with. The fortissimo hitting the right notes. But a huge part of misses the music, the lights and the excitement.

I cannot sum up 7 years of learning in one blog. But for all that I learnt was one man’s willingness to impart. Impart without reason, without question or doubt. He would be firm, but patient. Sara will always be a great DJ by his own rights. To have been under those wings I’ve been gifted. But now when there are more things to look forward to, I have put that part behind and moved on forth. Perhaps one day, I’ll have another opportunity to clear off the dust from my CD cases. Perhaps...

Regards,

Mugi K

The Stage set for 4. ST4

I remember I was seventeen when I first started my term in Stage 4. Back then we were known as Stage 4 Productions. We were a group of twenty or so year olds struggling to make our mark in society. When I first joined, we were housed at Jalan Pemimpin along with a friendly catering company. They graciously rented part of their space to us. Very humble it was. A small warehouse area and an office space that, when put together, was probably the size of a HDB flat’s bedroom. Back then we were dealing with brands such as Outline and Martin. These brands were like the Levis and Luis Vuitton respectively during that time. I was so new then and I was still studying at Ngee Ann. I needed cash and Stage 4 allowed for the flexibility and income. I still remember how Dharmesh (D) taught me how to set up the sound system at a void deck birthday party. He would run the cables and patch them talking me through it step by step. He was one month my senior, up till date he lays claim to that honour. Nothing registered during the first set up. All I knew was that I wanted to learn. Hungry I was without a doubt.

Over time, D and I became the tag team partners. Henry, the only full-time staff at that time, would be the logistics and brains behind the operations. Everything from what to purchase, what was needed, what to service, what to pack was in his charge. Slowly but surely D and I picked up the skills and took on bigger responsibilities. We had the privilege of working with some of the best individuals that I know of till date. We had muscle men like David who could execute a set up all by himself without whining or shying. There were many who were pivotal to the growth of the company but I shall not name them for fear of missing out anyone along the way. For those who have been, their memories will tell them who they are. Continuing, D and I picked up valuable skills along the way. He became inclined towards lighting while I took a great deal of interest in audio. We were doing very simple events back then. Our core business came from mobile discos for birthdays and weddings. We had events for puberty ceremonies, naming ceremonies and even sixty year old birthdays. It was a norm that if we did the birthday of one person, we would naturally be the AV support for his wedding, his children’s birthday and so forth. Along the way I got fascinated by audio and its wonders. I revelled in the fact that audio posed so many challenges. That was one reason why my thirst for knowledge never died. I was always experimenting and looking out for more things to learn and I started learning audio through simple DJ mixers. The weekends were packed with events. With David and Henry running from place to place for set ups while D and myself would be sound guys or DJs at the events. Well, being a DJ has had its perks, its ups and downs. But I will blog about that on another occasion. It was a party every weekend. Of course, all those were followed by back aches and scratches on the hands and body here and there. The annoying part is that you only discover where you were injured when you’re in the shower. The touch of mere H2O irritating the affected areas. I still remember once how David and myself were placing a speaker onto a stand when the speaker dropped. Since we were setting up near a stage, the speaker dropped on the stage. Being the proactive individual I was my instant reaction was to protect the speaker and hence I went for it. Well, bad call. The speaker hit my fingers and crushed it on the stage. I ended up having a large blood clot that lasted for weeks. Consolation was that my boss allowed me to sit in front of the van for the rest of the day because I had an injury.

We started growing rapidly. Our inventory doubled and we started investing in more intelligent lights, speakers and equipment. We set our foot into road shows with companies such as SingTel. These were events that were contracted to us by event companies. Slowly we started digressing to the non-Indian market. Of course, we were still very much dependant on the Indian industry and we have never forgotten that till date. We were still doing private events but only, not as much. Our marketing for such events dropped and I was asked to handle the mobile disco aspect of the company. I would handle quotations, meetings and programme line-ups for any mobile disco event that came along. We never went in search of the mobile disco events but only executed those which came our way. Along the way I became more confident at spinning. I was under the tutelage of the resident DJ at Asoka. After I became more confident at the console my boss would make me spin at every event he hosted. Without fail, I will be next to him when he is hosting. Believe me when I say that for an unknown host, my boss was a staple for any events. Most customers would request for him to be the MC for their events. He was funny, witty, and knew how best to entertain the guests. We had this simple concept to every event that there should not be any fast numbers during dinner or pre-dinner. Upbeat numbers were always reserved for the dance floor. Pre-dinner was only instrumentals while dinner was accompanied by slow ballads or anything melodious and popular. This was how my boss liked it, and this was how I liked it. It seems too weird to me, to have fast moving songs playing in the background while dinner was going on. There was opposition to this by guests, without a doubt. Some of them wanted fast numbers right from the start. Well, it seemed to me then that if he or she had such a clue as to how music should flow in a party, then they should’ve have just told us the order of songs to be played right from the start. I remember how also, that my boss would ‘deliver’ me to the venue and I would set up the system myself while he heads back home to change for hosting. So there I would be setting up the console, speakers and lights myself. During these periods, D was in the army, hence I was handicapped. When D was around we used to have so much fun setting up. We would do everything right. I mean EVERYTHING right. But yet, there will not be any sound in the speakers. We sit and scratch out heads to such a point that we exhaust all other alternatives. We call Henry and we will get screwed. We call boss, well, we still get screwed. Most of the time they are busy with other events and do not like to be disturbed. So we would keep trying everything else and finally realise that somewhere along the way some equipment would be fooling with us, either the mixer or in most cases the compressor. Honestly a headache when you know your event is starting in about thirty minutes.

These are just some of the memories that I keep with me. During this phase we had already moved into Mactech Building and were doing events with MediaCorp production houses. There came about one big break after another. We did Lock Up concerts, Dark Keys, Oli 96.8 etc. One special event for me was Oli’s ‘Inimai 24’. It was a 24 hour concert and live programme held at Sentosa to commemorate Oli’s first year anniversary since being converted into a 24 hour channel. I was spinning that night. The console was high above and gave me a nice top view of the crowd dancing on the field below. Barely with experience, I had over a thousand crowd gyrating to the Indian music that I was laying out. It seems pleasant right now but the shivers I felt back then could have spiked on the Richter scale. Those were some breaks that Stage 4 had, propelling us to doing bigger events. We kept expanding into the non-Indian market while still trapping waters in the Indian arena. I tell you now that it was a whole lot of work. It was amazing how we were gifted with some of the finest individuals that I have ever come across thus far. They can work tirelessly for 36 hours and still continue going strong. At this juncture I have to express my greatest respect for the fellas who I have worked with.

I worked full-time with Stage 4 at one point. We had already moved into our next premise at Jalan Tenterram by then. I remember how I got my first off after fourteen days of non-stop working. By non-stop I mean late nights with a few hours of rest in between and then back to event. I would go home at about 3 am after an event and will have to report back to work at 9 am the same day. Mind you as well, I was not doing some office job and working late. I was out carrying equipment and getting myself mentally and physically drained. This was life at that time. My second off came after thirteen consecutive days of non-stop working. Non-stop working in the same fashion as dictated earlier. The third off day, came after another thirteen days of arduous work as well. I was exhausted, aching and cursing at my plight. I was probably about 21 or 22 years old then. This was also the period when Stage 4 started moving into trussing and video equipment. So now, we not only do Audio and Lights but also Trussing and Video. Our crew size became bigger and we were handling more than we could. But every show was executed with finesse. We knew that we had each other’s back and that we would get the event done well and good. Along this way, I became more proficient in DJing and Audio engineering. I would spin part-time at Asoka and was getting audio advice from the one person I know who is good at it, Lava. DJ Sara became mentor for Disc Jockeying while Lava became the sound guru. I had the best to work under and I have been blessed. It was during this time also, we executed Stage 4 Counts Down. The first Indian new year countdown party in Singapore. It was held at Fort Canning and produced by D and Vishnu. Boss was the executive producer, naturally, and Sam and Lava were in an advisory position. It was months of hard work and preparations for the guys. Lucky me I was serving the nation wearing green. But of course, having been around with Stage 4 for so long, how could I miss our own event? I was spinning at the party. I cannot find the mot juste for what I experienced that evening.

After all this came about Boom Box AV, a subsidiary of Stage 4 AV (S) Pte Ltd. There was a name change for Stage 4 and Boom Box was a company incepted to cater to the mobile industry. Again, I was allowed the opportunity of handling that company. The experience managing that company was tremendous. However, due to certain academic ambitions of mine, we had to drop it soon after. By this time, Stage 4 had moved into its current place at Toh Guan. We are now at a point where mobile disco events are the last thing on our minds. We have treaded into equipment such as concert series speakers and LED walls. We are engaged by top brands and large organisations to be the contractors. We built a strong client base that gives us a bulk of our events while adhoc events take up the remainder of our time. A highlight for me, personally, during our tenure at the current premises was ‘Vidiya Vidiya Deepavali 2007’. The Deepavali countdown show at Race Course road that happened three days after ‘Utsav’. Three days of set up for that event with about two hours of sleep in between. The incessant rain and winds spoiled every aspect of our set up. The desperation and exhaustion that came along running around and climbing the truss again and again. At one point I was asked a favour by one of the organisers to hang a picture at the top of the truss. It was one of those pictures that Indian homes have outside their doors to ward off evil. So there I went climbing up the truss to hang that little picture so that we may be released from the torment of the tumultuous rains. Problems were there but the relentless spirit of the crew held everything together. That event showcased over forty intelligent lightings, a benchmark that has not yet been reached by another local Indian event. Not even by the countdown event in 2008.

All along, there was blood, sweat and toil. The toil of polytechnic students like D, myself and many others. If I am who I am today, Stage 4 was one major contributor. The feel of dollar notes in my hand along with the dirt from the equipment taught me the value of hard work and money. The skills acquired has not left me ever since. I still remember how to patch an entire system with little difficulty. Some may perceive this as blowing one’s own trumpet but I see this as my gratitude. A man who doesn’t have gratitude doesn’t have anything at all. This blog hardly captures my nine years of memories with the company but for now, this would do it. Also, of late, I have been asked questions such as, “Is stage 4 still around?” I hope the LED wall at Thaipusam had answered that question.

Regards,

Mugi K

P.S. I left out names for the sole reason that I have not sought permission from the respective individuals for placement of their names on my blog. For those whose names have been mentioned, they have been mentioned in good-faith and in no manner that shall be detrimental to their reputation or whatsoever. I apologise if I may have caused discomfort to anyone along the course of me expressing my opinions and thoughts.

When words just aren't enough.

Walking along the dirty path, crest fallen and jaded with leaves and debris, all he could see was the distant trees and street lamps. However sombre the mood may be at where he was, he knew, that was where he wanted to be. For in your company, he basked in the little things. He could hear your voice chattering away. You are talking about your life and your aspirations. Elaborating on what matters to you most, your ideals and principles. He felt proud that you held on to them with such conviction, that it matched his own thoughts. Now, what matters to you, shall matter to him. But his head is muddled all of a sudden. His mind isn’t registering your words. He seems perturbed, an overwhelming sense of discomposure. Seemingly what distracted him was an odour. No, not an odour, but a scent. Your perfume is intoxicating his mind and confusing his senses. Seems like morning amongst lilies but it’s not. Why the illusion? Now he cannot concentrate on what you’re saying completely. He musters a smile, looking right at you. He knows your cheeks are burning. He knows you can sense his gaze looking right at you. You turn and ask him why he is staring at you. Your voice exuding all the innocence it could muster, eyes sparkling in the moonlight. But how does he say anything? How does he tell you that you fascinate him? How does he ask you if your skin is as soft as it looks? Or is it simply a hallucination. Is his mind betraying him? He wants to touch you, just so he knows he isn’t dreaming. He wants to hold you and know that he is in fact treading in that desolate place next to you and that is not a dream or his mind playing games on him. But he doesn’t want to seem primitive with his behaviour and hence brushes off the thought of saying anything silly or holding you for that matter. His answer to your question came with denial. That he wasn’t staring. “Crap!” he thought. Caught red-handed but yet why was it so difficult for him to tell you that he adores you. That he never wanted the night to end? He noticed you smile, and it only confused him further. “Why did she smile? What was it for? Did she take me seriously when I said no? Please don’t. I lied when I said I wasn’t staring. I really was gazing at you but that is only because I think you’re beautiful. I wasn’t staring, I just can’t take my eyes off you.” You carry on with your girlish chatter, the moon offering minimal yet substantial illumination. All that he needed to look at you, your face. The smiles continue.

As you both walk on he notices a board of some sort. He wonders what it is, momentarily losing his concentration on what you were saying again. He walks on to the structure and realises it was a panel that had the history of the place carved on it. He stops to read. History was always of interest to him. He read how the place was previously used in World War 2 as an operation ground for the allies. Getting lost in his own fantasy, you bring him back to earth by expressing your fear of standing in the darkness for so long. He smiles yet again, cheeks starting to ache, and wonders why you are afraid. It is a silent night but he is there, he knows he will not let you go. That he will keep you safe and out of harm’s way. You matter so much to him. He laughs and tells you how the panel caught his eye and evoked his interest. You jokingly call him bluff, that he did it on purpose just to let you stand in the dark and feel afraid. He knows that wasn’t his intention. He merely wanted to prolong the night for as long as he could just to be in your midst. He laughs along with you. Again, your eyes gaze into each other’s, laughter replaced by silence and the contagious smiles on each of your faces. Eyes filled with adoration, the tacit feeling of comfort and attraction undeniable amongst the sudden silence.

Walking along, you stumble into a poorly lit path. The only path that leads to the destination desired. Entering the darkness he could feel you getting closer. You body inching towards his as you both walk. There isn’t much chatter now. You’re not as excited and enthusiastic as before. Instead, you seem bothered about the darkness. He notices the change. Slowly he feels you move your hand under his arm and hook him close to you. He is lost for words. He can feel you. He can feel the heat from your body. Yes it is true. Your skin IS as soft as it looks. He wishes he could hold you closer. But how much closer? Your body was already pressing against his and your arm was already weaved with his and resting on his forearm. He had a beatific look washed across his face not concealing any ounce of ecstasy and would have stayed that way even if he was condemned a reprobate at that time. He asks you if you were fine. You tell him that you are afraid of the dark. Your cheek is pressing against his arm while his arm is entwined with yours. He likes you. He likes that childlike voice. He likes the fact that you are afraid of the dark. Because then he can be there for you whenever and wherever it is dark. He likes how your cheeks feel against his arm, your scent now overwhelming him, intoxicating him further. He likes how you cuddle up close to him and find that comfortable place in his arms. He holds his ground knowing that he cannot allow his primordial instincts get the better of him. He assures you that it’s going to be alright, that the path will soon come to an end. He assures you that there will be light very soon. That she will no longer need to feel afraid. He was right, as soon as he had said it, there was light at the end of the path. You slip your arm out of his. He tries to stop you from retreating. He wants to keep your hands locked with his. He feels as though someone ripped his clothes off. A sense of nudity, now that your body is no longer sheltering him. He felt cold, the chills of the night piercing through his skin. Where was the warmth he felt awhile ago? Where was the thump of the heart that was beating so close to his? The heart that beat as though it was his. He sees you walk next to him, apologising for the “irrational” act of holding him. He thinks in his head, ”Silly of you to apologise. Hold me again. Hold me close. Please don’t let go and neither will I.” You profusely apologise for your behaviour while he tells you that it was alright. That there is nothing to be apologetic about and that he did not mind. He wants you to be safe. He wants you to feel comforted. At that moment he felt like he could give you anything you wanted. He smiles at you yet again, looking into your eyes. And he knows you’re smiling as well, gazing into his. The question as to why the both of you cannot stop the smiles however, lingers for the remainder of the evening. It is evident though; that it is an intimation for what shall be beautiful and special henceforth.

Truth, the antonym of the word ‘Lie’. A simple word that holds great value. One that billions of people journey in search of, no matter how arduous it may be. Although the journey in search of truth may be similar, the destination is varied. People live each day in search of simple truths that could, presumably, lift their spirits. Remember the adage, “Truth hurts”? For when that great man or woman who had said that, must have succumbed to such an ordeal that it has been etched in the hearts and minds of every living being born with a sixth sense ever since. Does truth really hurt?

It is innate, or human, to lie. A defence mechanism to shield one’s self from the possible turmoil the truth could bring. When a husband or wife cheats they lie, in the hope that that lie shall stand against the test of time and never allow the truth to surface. One lie will always yield another and yet another. The argument is that people cannot be faulted for the lies they paint. The wall they build shielding the truth from revealing it’s ugly self. Truly enough, if truth had a face it would be hideous. It would be grotesquely deformed and be surrounded by mephitic odours that shall induce vomit from the guts of people. Bloodshot eyes that pierce through the heart and leave you feeling so cold that you would wish that death would relief the pain. Savage and macabre it would be. Lies however, are beautiful. They have the most demure face, the softest of skins and the most angelic of voices. They are curved like Pandora who was, in greek mythology, the first woman and the most beautiful to have ever been made by the gods. They have sparkling eyes that arouse a sense of warmth and comfort. Such is the face of Truth, and Lies. Should there be a question then as to why people still prefer the comfort of living amongst lies?

If life has taught us anything, it is that every great man, every great soul, country, empire, king, queen to even the smallest of man will have to face the truth someday. Because truth has the power to bring about peace. This of course merely the sunshine after the storm. Similar to the common believe that to overcome fear, one must first face his fear. Running away or shying from it never helped anybody. It is funny however to note that people know firsthand that the truth hurts. That it may, as in most situations, break them and make them yield to such pain that shall remain in their memories for as long as they may walk the face of the earth. Yet we go in search. Stupidity or not, its not within my judgement. For I myself, am treading a path toward realisation. To know that what the mirror holds is no lie, but instead, a vivid and crisp image that holds truths until such time they be masked by yet another lie.