It is our pleasure to introduce you to DJ Wiggles, renowned for his classic house music. Take a journey through the history of electronic music through his eyes, and see what all the rave is about.
DJ Wiggles love of electronic music began when he was 14 years old. It’s 1995, and for the first time, his big brother lets him tag along to an underground rave. There are no online tickets to purchase, no apps or GPS to give them directions. The only information they have to go on is a small printed flier for a show that is happening tonight in Portland.
They go on a scavenger hunt, from one map point to the next. At each place, they pass a test with the gatekeeper, their baby faces proof that they aren’t police. At last, at the final check point, they purchase tickets, and get directions to an abandoned warehouse.
When they show up, the place is anything but abandoned. Several hundred people dance side by side, in a place where the cool kids in school don’t go. The outcasts, goths, homeless kids, punks, and gay kids all together. Unified. A family of sorts.
After that first event, Wiggles was hooked. He loved house music, the modern electronic sounds mixed with old Chicago gospel vocals. The freedom of the dance. The motto the raver’s upheld, PLUR. Peace, love, unity and respect. Later, his best friend bought him a set of vinyl records and he began to mix tracks on his buddy’s turntables, until he could afford to buy his own.
It’s 2001, and a 20-year-old DJ Wiggles anxiety soars as he stands toe to toe with a crowd of people in a warehouse. Together with his partner and 30 friends, he promoted and orchestrated this rave. Not only is this his premier show, but his friends strong armed him into DJ’ing for the first time outside the comfort of his bedroom. Six weeks before the event, they collectively told him, “Either you perform, or we won’t help you. No set-up, no take-down, no running around picking up performers.”
“Shit.” He thought, “I am not worthy to play an event for hundreds of people.” But then he hatched a plan. He knew from helping run various other events that no show ever opened on time. So, he put himself down for the first slot, knowing he would only have to play for ten minutes. Tops.
The scheme probably would have worked, if he hadn’t shared it with a close confidant, who then shared it with the whole group. Together, the volunteers rallied, and much to his dread, they made damn sure those doors opened on time.
That night, he lets the sweat drip and pushes self-doubt to the side as he places records on the turntables and gets to work. He plays a set of classic house music, which starts off slow and crescendos, per the vibe of the night. The flashing lights zoom through and around the people, in perfect time to the music. The party goer’s dance to the rhythm of the beats, moving from a place of joy and connection.
After playing for an hour, his body hums with the natural high of performing. He smiles in disbelief at how much time has passed and turns the tables over to the next artist. As he steps to the side, people come at him from all angles. They want to know, “who are you? What’s your name? That was amazing!”
Six months since his debut as a DJ, things have snowballed. He has a regular 21 and over club he plays at every Sunday night, even though he is only 20 years old. One night, he is approached by a large promoter.
“Hey, we’re going to book the worlds biggest and best DJ’s and throw one of the craziest shows we think has ever come to Portland. Do you want to play the supporting slot for the headliners?”
Still feeling inadequate, but not wanting to let the opportunity pass, he agrees. For this show, multiple performers will be playing all at once, in different sections of a large warehouse. He will close the show for the night, after a big act, performed by one of his idols, Bad Boy Bill.
He spends months putting together a track to play for the night, ignoring all the voices in his head and from others. “You aren’t good enough, the show will be a flop, you are selling out. The show is going to be the biggest thing ever…” he cocoons himself, sleeping until 2:30am, an hour and a half before he is set to go on.
When he arrives, he cannot find a parking spot within a mile radius of the warehouse. He follows the sound of the music blaring, runs past parked cars, past the police barricade and fire trucks. When he at last gets to the gates, he is sent to the back room to wait his turn.
He peaks up from the go-go dancer’s stage and is floored. A sea of people is all he can see. He stands up taller, looking for the back of the room, but all he sees are heads and bodies. Some people recognize his angora kangol hat, “Hey, it’s DJ Wiggles!” they call out over the music.
He is sweating now, in a way that the run to this place didn’t induce. His stomach feels like lava, and he wonders if he can do this. As he listens to his idol play, those voices of doubt return, how could he ever follow this act?
Finally, it is time. He tries to enter the DJ area, but a tall, jeering security guard bars his way. “Where do you think you are going?” he asks, his tone, together with the expression on his face quite clearly saying, you do not belong here.
Wiggles looks up at the man who is confirming what he already knows to be true. “Well sir…I’m uhh…I’m supposed to ummm…play next.”
The security guard laughs at him. “Yeah, right.”
“No, really.” Wiggles flashes his badge. The badge which says believe it or not, you are worthy, and you shall play. The guard glances at it but doesn’t budge.
The event manager finds his way over. “What is going on here? You are supposed to go on!” he ushers Wiggles past an astonished security guard and thrusts him out into the front of the crowd.
Bad Boy Bill is just finishing up. “You’re on!” he says to DJ Wiggles as he unplugs his headphones.
“Back then, there was no large stage the DJ’s played on, you were on the ground level with all the other people. I seriously thought I was going to shit myself those first 5 minutes.” recalls Wiggles, with a laugh. “But then, I saw all the happy faces, dancing, sweating, totally into the music. I began to relax, to interact with the crowd.”
As the morning wears on, and 6am approaches, the crowd seems to grow bigger, as opposed to smaller. A frantic promoter, hands waving, runs up to Wiggles. “Shut it down, shut it down!” Together with security, a bewildered Wiggles is rushed from the mob of people, into a back room.
Later, he learned that the managers decided to shut the other rooms down early, so they wouldn’t seem deserted as people started to go home and to bed. What they hadn’t anticipated was that not a single person would leave. All 3,000 plus bodies had pushed their way past security and packed into the room where DJ Wiggles was playing, leading the fire marshal and the police into a state of panic.
Since then, he has garnered fame locally and across the US, playing in several different states. He married his best friend, Patti, who went to most every show with him, always at the very front dancing, until the latest craze, electro, swept him up.
Red, yellow and blue laser lights zoom in time to the sound of the electro beat blaring from the huge speakers. Their flashes briefly illuminate the crowd of dancing teens and young adults, who scream, “Wiggles!!!!” as the 30-year-old DJ feeds them the music they crave.
The tempo is fast, jarring. For Wiggles, anxiety inducing. The raves are mainstream, no longer underground, the vibe more that of a rock concert, where all the cool kids go. It’s 2011, and Wiggles is ten years into his career. He looks around him, absorbing the affluent young faces, the cool kids of today, and feels the music he doesn’t enjoy, pulsing through his veins.
He glances to the bottom of the stage, out front, at the 19-year-old stranger smiling up at him and feels hollow. He misses his biggest fan, his lover, his wife. It would be her up front if she could stand the new music he played, the music that’s had him booked every weekend for the last two years.
“Almost overnight, house music was too boring, and everyone wanted to hear electro and dubstep”, Wiggles says. “Some of the DJ’s, myself included, got lost trying to stay relevant. We all kind of road this wave, not realizing that we were losing site of the most important thing, which was to provide a haven for the geeks and freaks of the 80’s and 90’s to congregate somewhere, to be free.
“I was able to come off the wave and look back at the damage we had done.” Says Wiggles. “The lack of PLUR in the events, the respect that even I didn’t give to the music…I didn’t give the younger generations the opportunity to hear something different than the mainstream.”
For a while, he was so discouraged with the state of his music, he didn’t know if he would ever DJ again. But clue by clue, over the course of the next few years, he followed a new scavenger hunt. This time, in search of his lost art. He found it first through his relationships. Through new hobbies like rafting. Eventually, he started perfecting his craft again, learning new skills, and going back to his roots.
The hunt ended in the Groove Suite, a little 21 and older club in downtown Portland. A place where there was always a diverse collection of colors and genders. Of beliefs. where the PLUR mentality was alive and dancing. Where women could hang out without the worry of being harassed.
One of the owners remembered him from back in the day, before the electro music took over the scene, and invited him to play. There, in the dimly lit club, he again played the music of his heart, the soulful electronic sounds which launched his career.
Home again with his music, he plays in small clubs and venues, to a mostly mature crowd of 30’s and over. The vibe is relaxed, people can talk, dance, not be crushed against one other. Slowly, the younger generations are finding their way to the classic electronic music which started it all.
And Patti is right there again, at every show, dancing, even if she is the last one standing.
Written by: Katie-Rose
You can learn more about him at: http://artistecard.com/djwiggles
