by Ryan Speer (Speerbot)
As I write this, I am still in a bit of shock that last night I witnessed a set from Diplo, the DJ and producer extraordinaire. I know I know you’re saying, “What’s so shocking about that? I saw Diplo in (insert decent sized city here) at the (insert decent sized and moderately well-equiped venue here)”.
Well, what’s shocking isn’t just that I got a chance to catch a set from a producer whose awe-inspiringly creative beats are a personal inspiration to me. And it’s not just that he has collaberated with the likes of Snoop Dogg, Shakira, and M.I.A., and Die Antwoord (!). Nor is it just because his record label Mad Decent has released music by the likes of Santogold, Gucci Mane, and Peter Bjorn and John. It’s not even the fact that he’s become enough of a household name (especially if your household listens to music from time to time) to have his own Blackberry Torch commercial. The real reason this night was truly surreal is that it all occurred in a dive bar with a maximum occupancy of no more than a couple hundred in beeeautiful Daytona Beach, FL.
So, now you’re asking “How did the stars align to allow such a magical and unlikely scenario to come to fruition?”. To which I will first reply, please stop interrupting my article with questions. I’m getting to all that! So, continuing…
Well, I was up there for a music and art festival in Edgewater, FL. My friends in The Art Official Group (big ups Beth, J.D., and Junior!) had built an awesome tent at the festival and I was stoked to get a chance to display some of my art and spend a few days checking out local and national bands and DJs, including the headline set by you know who. And then God said, “Let there be rain!” and the festival was cancelled. So there went my big chance to have my art seen by Diplo. Thanks a lot, God! But fret not, for those rain clouds did have a silver lining. I learned that the promoters were scrambling to find new venues for all the acts in nearby Daytona Beach, FL. Reconfigure the GPS!
The new venue was small… very small. I suspect fire codes were broken that night but the fire marshal was probably fast asleep by then, resting up for church the next morning. Now I think I’m going to pass on giving the bar a shout out… more on that later. Let me just say that Diplo himself was amazingly humble and gracious despite the circumstances. He had a green room but he spent the majority of the time leading up to his set mingling with family (Diplo is originally from Edgewater), friends, and fans alike.
Funny story: Maria, my girlfriend, and Beth, the curator of the art at the festival, were trying to figure out some way to introduce themselves to Diplo without being a nuisance. J.D. (Beth’s husband) and I were prodding them to go introduce themselves and tell him about all the art he hadn’t had a chance to see that day. Finally, they moved in and just in time to hear the clueless bartender telling Diplo that he didn’t have enough cash to cover the two Amber Bocks he had just ordered. Apparently, the bar hadn’t bothered to set him up with even a meager bar tab (Strike 1). Now, here’s where that whole “humble and gracious” spiel from earlier comes in. Instead of shouting, “Do you know who I am?? I am the only reason anyone is here!” and demanding to see the bar owner and manager, Diplo simply said “Oh, ok.” That is when Maria and Beth came to the rescue putting it on their tab. Later on that night I passed Diplo another Amber Bock. He thanked me but I don’t think he ended up drinking it. Can’t say I blame him (I don’t think I’d drink a random beer handed to me by some weirdo stranger either), but at least I got to immediately change my Facebook status to “I just bought Diplo a beer”… and these days isn’t that what really matters? But a whole lot of people got the opportunity to update their Facebook statuses that night as Diplo took time to chat with everyone that approached him, including my blushing girlfriend who – you know – was a fan “back before he was famous”.
There were quite a few acts to fit in, so Diplo had plenty of time to build his set list on his laptop just a few stools down from me… close enough to get a good glimpse of the list. “Bucky Done Gun”! Oh yea! It wasn’t until 1:30 that he finally got to take the stage, but the crowd still had plenty of energy to dance and sing their little hearts out. From our seats up in the balcony (Is it still called a balcony if it’s in a dive bar?? Maybe I should just say second floor, because balcony sounds way too fancy), we got a great view of the sweating, euphoric mass of swaying limbs and glowsticks… and the inevitable (yet totally out of place) moshpit. Also of special note was the thankfully short-lived catfight and the bar’s Christmas tree, which teetered just on the edge of destruction all night but never tipped over! Obviously feeding off the crowd’s energy, Diplo invited the fans to come dance on stage for a few songs before angry bar security kicked everyone off (Strike 2).
Diplo was actually playing on our friend Junior a.k.a. DJ Sum=One’s turntables, and despite proclaiming that he wasn’t used to that kind of setup, he still killed it. (Side note: If you watch the video, you can hear Junior’s beautiful backup vocals at the beginning of “Where is My Mind” as well as his proclamations that Bud Light Lime is the worst beer he has ever had in his life). And through all the technical issues (pretty sure a speaker blew half way into the set) and uncooperation of bar staff (Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do), Diplo stayed positive through it all and delivered a once-in-a-lifetime experience for a lot of very happy fans… right up until the bar decided to cut his set short. Yep, despite Diplo’s request for one more song and the pleading chant of the crowd, the bar decided to shut things down about half an hour before they had to (Strike 3 and no shout out for you, nameless bar! ).
Ohhhh, I can’t stay mad at you, The Bank & Blues on Main Street, Daytona Beach, FL… In all honesty, they did a great job hosting especially considering they only had a few hours notice before hell descended upon them in the form hundred of boozed-up, glowstick-bedazzled twenty-somethings in skinny jeans and bandanas. By the end of the night, even though we didn’t get to exhibit our art, everyone in the ArtOfficial group agreed we couldn’t have hoped for a better night. Well, a longer set would have been nice, but you get my point.
As I write this, I am still in a bit of shock that last night I witnessed a set from Diplo, the DJ and producer extraordinaire. I know I know you’re saying, “What’s so shocking about that? I saw Diplo in (insert decent sized city here) at the (insert decent sized and moderately well-equiped venue here)”.
Well, what’s shocking isn’t just that I got a chance to catch a set from a producer whose awe-inspiringly creative beats are a personal inspiration to me. And it’s not just that he has collaberated with the likes of Snoop Dogg, Shakira, and M.I.A., and Die Antwoord (!). Nor is it just because his record label Mad Decent has released music by the likes of Santogold, Gucci Mane, and Peter Bjorn and John. It’s not even the fact that he’s become enough of a household name (especially if your household listens to music from time to time) to have his own Blackberry Torch commercial. The real reason this night was truly surreal is that it all occurred in a dive bar with a maximum occupancy of no more than a couple hundred in beeeautiful Daytona Beach, FL.
So, now you’re asking “How did the stars align to allow such a magical and unlikely scenario to come to fruition?”. To which I will first reply, please stop interrupting my article with questions. I’m getting to all that! So, continuing…
Well, I was up there for a music and art festival in Edgewater, FL. My friends in The Art Official Group (big ups Beth, J.D., and Junior!) had built an awesome tent at the festival and I was stoked to get a chance to display some of my art and spend a few days checking out local and national bands and DJs, including the headline set by you know who. And then God said, “Let there be rain!” and the festival was cancelled. So there went my big chance to have my art seen by Diplo. Thanks a lot, God! But fret not, for those rain clouds did have a silver lining. I learned that the promoters were scrambling to find new venues for all the acts in nearby Daytona Beach, FL. Reconfigure the GPS!
The new venue was small… very small. I suspect fire codes were broken that night but the fire marshal was probably fast asleep by then, resting up for church the next morning. Now I think I’m going to pass on giving the bar a shout out… more on that later. Let me just say that Diplo himself was amazingly humble and gracious despite the circumstances. He had a green room but he spent the majority of the time leading up to his set mingling with family (Diplo is originally from Edgewater), friends, and fans alike.
Funny story: Maria, my girlfriend, and Beth, the curator of the art at the festival, were trying to figure out some way to introduce themselves to Diplo without being a nuisance. J.D. (Beth’s husband) and I were prodding them to go introduce themselves and tell him about all the art he hadn’t had a chance to see that day. Finally, they moved in and just in time to hear the clueless bartender telling Diplo that he didn’t have enough cash to cover the two Amber Bocks he had just ordered. Apparently, the bar hadn’t bothered to set him up with even a meager bar tab (Strike 1). Now, here’s where that whole “humble and gracious” spiel from earlier comes in. Instead of shouting, “Do you know who I am?? I am the only reason anyone is here!” and demanding to see the bar owner and manager, Diplo simply said “Oh, ok.” That is when Maria and Beth came to the rescue putting it on their tab. Later on that night I passed Diplo another Amber Bock. He thanked me but I don’t think he ended up drinking it. Can’t say I blame him (I don’t think I’d drink a random beer handed to me by some weirdo stranger either), but at least I got to immediately change my Facebook status to “I just bought Diplo a beer”… and these days isn’t that what really matters? But a whole lot of people got the opportunity to update their Facebook statuses that night as Diplo took time to chat with everyone that approached him, including my blushing girlfriend who – you know – was a fan “back before he was famous”.
There were quite a few acts to fit in, so Diplo had plenty of time to build his set list on his laptop just a few stools down from me… close enough to get a good glimpse of the list. “Bucky Done Gun”! Oh yea! It wasn’t until 1:30 that he finally got to take the stage, but the crowd still had plenty of energy to dance and sing their little hearts out. From our seats up in the balcony (Is it still called a balcony if it’s in a dive bar?? Maybe I should just say second floor, because balcony sounds way too fancy), we got a great view of the sweating, euphoric mass of swaying limbs and glowsticks… and the inevitable (yet totally out of place) moshpit. Also of special note was the thankfully short-lived catfight and the bar’s Christmas tree, which teetered just on the edge of destruction all night but never tipped over! Obviously feeding off the crowd’s energy, Diplo invited the fans to come dance on stage for a few songs before angry bar security kicked everyone off (Strike 2).
Diplo was actually playing on our friend Junior a.k.a. DJ Sum=One’s turntables, and despite proclaiming that he wasn’t used to that kind of setup, he still killed it. (Side note: If you watch the video, you can hear Junior’s beautiful backup vocals at the beginning of “Where is My Mind” as well as his proclamations that Bud Light Lime is the worst beer he has ever had in his life). And through all the technical issues (pretty sure a speaker blew half way into the set) and uncooperation of bar staff (Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do), Diplo stayed positive through it all and delivered a once-in-a-lifetime experience for a lot of very happy fans… right up until the bar decided to cut his set short. Yep, despite Diplo’s request for one more song and the pleading chant of the crowd, the bar decided to shut things down about half an hour before they had to (Strike 3 and no shout out for you, nameless bar! ).
Ohhhh, I can’t stay mad at you, The Bank & Blues on Main Street, Daytona Beach, FL… In all honesty, they did a great job hosting especially considering they only had a few hours notice before hell descended upon them in the form hundred of boozed-up, glowstick-bedazzled twenty-somethings in skinny jeans and bandanas. By the end of the night, even though we didn’t get to exhibit our art, everyone in the ArtOfficial group agreed we couldn’t have hoped for a better night. Well, a longer set would have been nice, but you get my point.
