Nice Fade #1: Heinz means beats; Barry competes

These days everyone's writing gig reviews. But the young chancers rushing home from the concert with a Spirax jammed into their jeans are only telling part of the story. What about the rest of the night? Our new Thursday series is dedicated to the all-too-human figure that plays God with your night out: the DJ. Intrepid undercover reporter and indie disco veteran Sleeveful of Slight shares his many thoughts.

DJ-ing seems straightforward. You don’t have to write the songs, you don’t have to perform them and seeing as we’re talking about an indie dancefloor here, you don’t even have to scratch, phase or beat match. All that you really have to do is pick good songs and know how to work a cross-fader. This is essentially true. Nevertheless, everyone who has experienced at least one good night out and has also attended one house party that goes past 1AM must acknowledge that despite the straightforward requirements set out in the brief, a yawning chasm separates a superlative DJ from a cabal of drunk Audioslave fans hijacking an ipod. Taste, of course, is a major factor but for a night on the dancefloor to enter the realm of the magical, a DJ’s good taste must be calibrated by something else – a nobility of spirit. Good DJing requires a belief in the present and a love of the past; warmth towards and faith in one’s audience and a personal vision for the room one is filling. The tension between these factors must, at all times, be balanced out by selfless devotion to creating a joyous experience for those who fall under your spell over the course of the night. DJing is a noble art and for mine, none more noble than DJ Heinz has graced the decks of Ric’s Bar. His taste was broad and impeccable and his focus was on fun.

Conversations on the couches or balcony were always being stopped by someone dragging people up to dance. There were dancefloor filling certainties – "Rock Lobster", "99 Red Balloons", "Get It On" – which invariably made an appearance each week. Heinz mixed the songs of moment and classic in a seamless weave that made present seem like a breathtaking step on an ever-ascending staircase of human achievement. He was generous with requests but rarely to the detriment of his better judgment. Best of all, he periodically went off into tangential strings of inspired song selection. When it was boogie-woogie it was bad and one went to the bar and got a drink (or rather 2 drinks) but frequently, it was utterly brilliant. The Jesus and Mary Chain’s "Happy When It Rains" flowed into The La’s "There She Goes" and then into Pavement’s "Gold Soundz". Paul Simon’s "Call Me Al" gave way to the Dandy Warhols' "We Used To Be Friends". This was some of the most glorious DJing I’ve witnessed.

To dwell in the past is morbid. Brisbane’s pop scene has come along in leaps and bounds since Heinz retired from the decks. The club nights that have sprung up (Wolfgang, Common People, Exile, Electric Kiss, Monster Joe’s) have enriched the party scene to no end while a slew of DJs have kept the wheels of steel at Ric’s spinning in Heinz’s absence. Nevertheless, I retain a fondness for the old maestro. When I wander towards the last train or cabline at the end of the night, I invariably compare the DJs performance to that of Heinz. How do his successors stack up?

DJ Barry

DJ Barry aka El Norto aka The Drummer From Gentle Ben aka That Guy From Ric’s With The Sideburns is a Romantic figure. His presence in Ric’s contributes a large amount of soul to one of the most soulful places in Brisbane city. His belief in the pop song seems near total and the fact that this belief remains so positive and undimmed despite him being well beyond on the average age of a member of his dancefloor lends a heroic glow to his presence. I make a point of trying to talk to him at least once every time I see him. At worst, he responds with truculent tolerance. More often, he has a good story about seeing a particular band live – R.E.M. in 89, My Bloody Valentine, Guided By Voices - he’s seen them all.

As a DJ, Barry is a little unpredictable. He’s DJing so often that one senses that his tangential detours last whole nights instead of the 5 or 6 songs that most DJs go for. In addition to this, getting the dancefloor moving isn’t always his aim. There’s been more than one time that I’ve raced from the Zoo, the Tivoli or the Arena to Ric’s in a state of post-gig euphoria only to cop country song after country song from El Norto. DJ Barry does not do requests. Nevertheless, you’re bound to hear some excellently unexpected pop songs any time he’s on the decks – that and "The Laws Have Changed" by the New Pornographers. There is no better DJ to get drunk to while talking to your friends and when he wants to get people dancing - he will. A sprinkling of Smiths after the stage has been cleared and the house is moving.

And that’s perhaps the essence of it. Ultimately, Barry is king of downstairs. He is everything that Heinz was to upstairs and probably a bit more but we are grouping these reviews under the banner of tribute to a retired DJ for a reason. We are seeking out a true successor to Heinz for the upstairs dancefloor because upstairs - with its dedicated dancefloor, movies on the wall, balcony, couches and pleasantly dark lighting – is ultimately where the magic happens. Barry will never be that DJ but that’s okay. There’s something of the triumph of the human spirit in DJ Barry and we salute him for it.

Come back next Thursday for part 2 (two-for-one Coronas before 10!) In the meantime, got any stories of your own to share? I'm sure DJ Heinz soundtracked a few misspent youths and post-youths. And what about DJ Barry - love him for being his own man or hate him for not playing your fave? Do tell...