Nadine and Greg
I’ve been spending the weekend at my cousin Greg and his fiancee Nadine’s place in the Hague. They’re getting married in August, and I’m part of the wedding preparation. This was the weekend for choosing, compiling and mixing the music. In other words, I’m DJ-ing for a party that won’t even happen for seven more months.
Bobbie drove me to Birmingham International, and slowed the car down so I could roll out near the terminal. I made it to the plane with half an hour to spare and entertained myself by searching high and low for ‘the right magazine’ (about hi-fi equipment I can’t afford), which I didn’t end up reading on the flight.
Meanwhile, I think the earth had turned in such a way that Amsterdam was now downhill from Birmingham, so we made it about 15 minutes early. Walked straight off the plane at Schiphol and onto the train to Den Haag Holland Spoor. Straight out the station doors onto the tram - all in one smooth and unhindered movement.
I would have made it to Greg and Nadine’s in absolute record time, beating them to their front door despite the mere five minute walk from their office, had my instructions about taking the number 9 tram from the train station been more specific about in which direction. It was dark and miserable by the time I finally got to the right end of the city.
Now, I make it a policy that 3 days or less away from home is a one-bag deal. Single satchel, hand luggage only. Clothing choices are kept to the bare minimum - only the jeans and shoes I stand in, plus a regular change of the stuff you should change regularly. The satchel already contained the Macbook, a 1TB Lacie external hard drive and an assortment of cabling, so getting everything in was a bit of a squeeze. Fortunately, it was raining, so I felt justified in having wedged an umbrella into the side pocket at the last minute. Shame that the wedging process had broken it, but it kept me mostly dry all the same.
The same could not be said about the bike ride around the city that Greg and I went on yesterday afternoon. We waited until it was raining good and solid, and ventured out to buy some blank CDs, an audio cable and a beer or two. The temptation to buy another pair of jeans so that I wouldn’t have to wander around in a towel for the rest of the weekend was quite strong, but the jeans dry out quite quickly when you hang out in a house with decent heating. I didn’t know that.
All the same, I could so happily cycle everywhere. I love bikes. If Birmingham was flat, the roads were wider and had cycle lanes, and motorists weren’t quite so keen to run human-powered vehicles off the road at every opportunity, it would be my main mode of transportation.
Other than our one brief and sodden trip to the outside world, the weekend was spent pretty much exclusively choosing and arranging music into long lists, shortlists and playlists, making the most of the new internet connection Greg had installed at home for the occasion. He’s a lawyer for Shell (boo hiss), uses his computer at work all the time, and had never seen the point of at-home internet. Still, he signed himself up to the iTunes store, and spent a few Euros filling in some gaps in our collective music library.
Greg’s a kiwi, and we were reasonably close growing up, so I already had a lot of the songs he was after, and there’s a lot of overlap in our tastes. Nadine’s German, and her family has specific musical requirements that need to be catered for. I had not encountered Schlager before, but I feel reasonably confident that with a few language lessons, Demis Roussos, Julio Iglesias, Engelbert Humperdink and Des O’Connor would have been reasonably proficient at the genre.
Much discussion over much wine went into the choice of ‘first dance’ song. I’m not going to reveal what it is, but I’m very pleased to say it was one that I suggested. Great song, perfect for the occasion, and I like to think it came to mean something to Greg and Nadine over the course of the dozen or so times it was played while they were making the decision. It managed to beat out Aretha Franklin’s ‘I Say A Little Prayer’, Bill Withers’ ‘Lovely Day’, Al Green’s ‘Let’s Stay Together’ and Falco’s ‘Rock Me Amadeus’ as top choice.
Once the shortlist of tunes had been arrived at, it was time to put my DJ skills to work. The mixes were performed live using a piece of software called Traktor, and we made 1h 15m sets that could be played as continuous mix CDs. Each disc has a slightly different flavour, to cater to the different crowds that will be dancing to Abba and Udo Jurgens at 10pm, or enjoying The Breeders, Beastie Boys and Pulp at 3 in the morning.
We managed to get through 5 full mix CDs, after a couple of false starts, and they seem reasonably happy with the results. I’ve got a playlist for the last CD for those who want to stay to the bitter end — with Santa Esmeralda’s ten-minute ‘Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood’ closing the place down around 5am. I’ll be mixing that back in Birmingham along with 4 CDs of ‘dinner and drinks music’, which will be broadly acid-jazz themed.
Discussions over what songs should be played in which order (or indeed at all) became quite important over the course of the weekend. Tracks were traded off against others, and the power of veto was applied liberally.
Nadine’s a bit younger than Greg and I (and Greg’s a bit younger than me), so her knowledge of music is concentrated into different decades than that of ours. There’s some stuff she hadn’t heard before that Greg thought would make obvious and correct choices for wedding disco music. As a result, Quote Of The Weekend goes to Greg, who spoke a sentence I never thought I’d hear, and which could probably have taken place in no other context:
“Funkytown’s good - you’ll like it.”
Had a great weekend. Always enjoy hanging out with Greg, Nadine’s lovely, their place is fantastic, the Hague seems cool - and I got to play music all day, fuss over track orders, recommend songs, and DJ while people brought me nice things to eat and drink. Spot on.
