Delivering sonic therapy
Joseph Mangga, Contributor, Jakarta
Master DJ Dave Seaman administered a nearly four-hour emotion- packed mosaic of sonic samplings that absolutely mesmerized the overcapacity crowd of enthusiastic clubbers at Musro in Hotel Borobudur, Central Jakarta.
The diminutive and chrome-domed Yorkshireman quietly crept up to the stage without anyone noticing, gently skimmed his hand across the mixer and immediately the sound system's right-channel fell silent throughout the club last week.
Seaman glanced about quizzically, as if something was very, very wrong, and this certainly got everyone's attention. I'm still puzzling over whether this was an accident or else a clever ruse to boldly announce that the mixing booth was now occupied by unquestionably the most distinguished DJ ever to play that club.
This was the fourth occasion since the millenium that Jakarta has been fortunate enough to host a Global Underground DJ artist, but the very first time one of the label's long-established megastars has been featured.
The other three -- Danny Howells (at Stadium), Sander Kleinenberg (Manhattan) and Anthony Pappa (Planet/Club 1001) -- were all relatively fresh international DJs featured on Global's Nubreed label, a label specially created to showcase new up-and- coming turntable mix-masters. Let us be thankful that promoters such as DJ Agoose and 91.45 Indika FM are bringing these people to Indonesia.
Though only rated #17 in the current DJ Magazine reader's poll, Dave Seaman has a DJ pedigree that reaches back far further than the tenure of most of those above him (not to mention that half of the top 16 are also Global Underground artists). This is a lad who waited until the ripe old age of 11 before deciding he was destined to be nothing other than a DJ.
Besides being instrumental in the formative days of the UK- Ibiza dance culture scene, he was also the first editor for Mixmag magazine, the founder of DMC/Stress records, and the producer for many famous artists such as Kyle Minogue, Take That and the Pet Shop Boys.
He has also released the Buenos Aries and Capetown Global Underground remix collections, no less than three Renaissance collections, as well as inspired remixes from his production team -- Brothers In Rhythm -- for Placebo, Garbage, Sting, Seal, Blur, Michael and Janet Jackson, Bruce Hornsby and the Eurythmics.
What Dave Seaman may be lacking in hair, he certainly made up for in sheer balls-out showmanship and DJing virtuosity that night. One almost had to hang onto something throughout the roller-coaster ride of diverse musical moods he unleashed, ranging from short bellows of wicked dark trance, occasional dollops of pulsing tribal, and even a minor pinch of some good- old-plain fun and funky R&B.
But more often than not we were treated to euphoric blasts of some of the most ultra-positive, progressive house and trance known to man or beast.
And a very happy beast he was at times, wildly pounding his chest behind the mixer, like some crazed musically-gifted gorilla. No one thre
Regularly overlapping up to 3 separate tracks at a time, virtually all the music was new to my ear, with the exception of Xpress-2's Slot Machine, Superchumbo's Revolution, and the closer, Chase The Sun by Planet Funk. But alas, there was to be no interview, for he was whisked-off at 4am to immediately fly to Hong Kong for a gig the following evening.
What impressed me most was the almost supernatural power that Mr. Seaman seem to exercise over the audience, carefully orchestrating every mood and action, including a "breathy- sounding" mix-effect where everyone stopped to catch their breath midstream. Save for 3 quick piss-stops, Dave himself slaved-away the entire performance like a musical Svengal with a mission.
The other feature of the evening I found most intriguing was the curious visuals provided by L&M cigarettes -- one of the event's major sponsors -- that were projected onto the massive wall behind Mr. Seaman.
Juxtaposed were two ying-and-yang-like rotating circles, one portraying a series of devilishly seductive and subliminal images -- flashing names of jet-set destinations; frolicking dreadlocked Rastamen, adventurers and female lovelies; all passing a forbidden-fruit-like red L&M apple around the world from one exotic location to another.
The other circle, a fuzzy list of warnings (in Indonesian) of all the many medical ailments that can accompany cigarette smoking (lung cancer, heart disease, impotence, etc.). These images continually swirled and danced to the music, as if engaged in some sort of bizarre cosmic power struggle or balancing act. A powerful vice, with it's obvious pleasures, that can never be totally eliminated; versus the potential price one has to pay for it's indulgence; both clearly posted for all of free will to inspect and to choose.
This odd display was somewhat reminiscent of the many tough choices now confronting Indonesia, as to what path it should now take in this new and uncharted age. Just as Mr. Seaman's music covered a whole range of musical possibilities --the dark and the light, the hard house and the soft trance -- the answer seems to be not to one extreme or the other, but a direction lying somewhere within the middle.
And just one final note to the organizers. Dance parties were meant for dancing, which is somewhat hard to do when the clubbers are packed in tighter than a flotilla of canned sardines in overheated chili sauce. A firm policy on maximum venue capacity, including pre-sale of tickets, would both be most welcomed improvements in the future. 'nuff said!