Night of the Living Shejay
Matthew Craig, a 21-year-old DJ and promoter, is telling me how it all began for him.
“Kirsty Munro [resident at Arches' club night Death Disco] taught me how to DJ. I bumped into her at Pressure and told her she was great, and would she help me get started. I'd bought turntables and the rest of it but couldn't work out how they made sound! Without her I may never have learnt the ropes, and definitely wouldn't have started my own nights”.
Craig, who is currently running three club nights in Glasgow at Blackfriars, the Research Club and Nice 'n' Sleazies, is one of the city's latest success stories. But his is a rare one: it's not often in this industry that you'll find a case of girl-teaches-boy. I tell him this, and he seems genuinely confused. Come on, I argue. As someone pretty clued-up in the DJ business, he must be aware that its a profession somewhat dominated by men?
“Yes, there are less female names out there but I don't know why this must be the case. Whether it's because like many jobs DJing has a "male dominated" tag already and less girls want to venture over and have a go, or whether they generally have less interest in the first place, I'm not sure”.
Craig's view is fairly representative of his age. In the equality-respecting era of the New Man, the female DJ is genuinely recognised as no less able than her male counterpart, and to suggest otherwise would represent a huge social faux-pas.
Of course, it wasn't always the case. Frank Murphy runs a Northern Soul night at the Woodside Social Club in Glasgow's West End, and has been playing since he was 17. He admits that twenty years ago, a woman behind the decks was a rare sight, putting it down to a reticence, or indifference, towards this male hobby.
“The karaoke scene may have produced more female DJs once they discovered how easy it was to DJ with CDs. Most karaoke companies either have the gear permanently in the pub or have a male crew that delivers sets up and collects the equipment, which I think was also an off putting factor.”
The geeky ethos of record collecting, and the model of the male DJ re-alphabetizing his collection in the small hours and doggedly carting his equipment from post to post, has changed. As with many careers nowadays, women are not so much included as actively sought out, whether as a means of pulling in a bigger crowd, making a statement (with the female performer posing as a symbol of what might roughly be thought of as the night's 'edginess'), or out of sheer curiosity.
A victory, it would seem, for female DJs everywhere. And yet, how would Craig, or Murphy, react if they were booked on the basis of their genitalia, and not their mixing? It's positive discrimination, yes, but discrimination all the same.
In many agency listings, the mysterious 'female DJ' category has emerged as a genre in itself, seemingly suggesting either that all women play the same type of music or that the music they do play is less relevant than their hair colour, cup size, and willingness to DJ in a pair of hotpants.
But, in a media-hounded industry, image cannot be and never is ignored. Before jumping on the feminist bandwagon, as unfashionable as it sounds, I can't help wondering whether this gender awareness is necessarily A Bad Thing.
Kelly Sylvia, London based-DJ and co-founder of the Shejay concept, disagrees. Many women are embracing this gender discrimination until a level of equality is achieved and women are judged first and foremost on ability, she claims. Shejay.net is just one of a whole range of websites, groups and networks exclusive to female DJs. Promoting itself as a world-wide network of female DJs, vocalists, producers and electronic musicians, it aims to provide a support network for women in the industry. “Our motto has always been 'female DJs with class, not tits and ass', and I think that sums it up”, states Sylvia.
But isn't this all a bit hypocritical? Can women really complain about being marketed by their gender, and at the same time use it as a bonus point on their CV? When I suggest that women are in fact abusing the novelty tag they are battling against, Sylvia quickly interrupts.
“I suppose to some people - to those with less experience in the industry - it might be seen as such, although that was never the intention when we launched the site. After 8 years of Shejay being in existence, I can see it being less of a novelty and more of a concept of supporting women DJs and artists in electronic music - which is what we always meant to be anyway. I think until there is a closer to equal ratio of women to men and it becomes more common across the board, there will still be the novelty factor on some level, unfortunately.”
It's true that sexism still exists. Whilst Sylvia's striving towards gender equality may seem idealistic, it is no less laudable for it. The community, which started out with 40 members and a magazine, has now expanded into a website, boasting over 1100 female artists. It has become a touchstone for striving female DJs worldwide.
The site's balance of tongue-in-cheek attitude with serious ambition has proved infectious. Talia, a 37-year-old house and electro DJ from Worcester, set up her own networking group, 'female-dj', on clubbing website DontStayIn.org. It currently has 140 members. I ask her if she has ever experienced sexism within her career, and she candidly recounts numerous stories in which she told male promoters where to go after they had offering her headline slots at major UK nights in return for sexual favours.
“This one guy from Sundissential cornered me after I'd played in a club, offering me a permanent slot if I'd do certain things. I was like, shoulders back, head up - “how rude!” Another time, after winning a big competition, the promoter came up backstage and deliberately dropped a condom on the floor next to me. It does take the edge off a bit, you start to doubt yourself and your ability. But then, I'd just played to a crowd who went absolutely skitz, so I didn't think about that too long.”
I ask whether she feels groups such as 'female-dj' reinforce this gender difference, and she hesitates. “I suppose I have contradicted myself a little bit there. I hadn't really thought about that. I suppose it's just been a great help for me and lots of other women...I got proper slated by a few lads on the site at first, but I just thought, guys have plenty of groups they can join where they're taken more seriously than girls.”
Talia originally bought her decks for her teenage son, but he had never shown much interest. After escaping an abusive 16-year relationship, leaving her job and moving back to her hometown, she found herself playing around with records when the kids were at school. Then she won a competition for a place at Worcester's DJ Academy, an organisation which teaches and trains DJs looking for a career in the industry, and soon she was practising for 3-4 hours a day. She got hooked.
Her story makes me appreciate the sense of sisterhood in her group a little more. For Talia, the novelty tag women often complain about is just a fact of life, full stop, and it's the same in any profession. Her advice? To just enjoy it.
“When you've got female DJ on the bill you pull in both sexes – women have got that 'you go girl' attitude, and want to see her doing well, whereas men come to check her out, see what the fuss is about. It's great.”
Marjorie Hache, a Franco-Scottish electro DJ, firmly agrees. “At the end of the day, ageism is much harsher on women – I do feel like there's a time limit”. At just 24, she has played in both Glasgow and Paris, and is similarly positive about using woman's somewhat elevated position. “The first time I played under the name Electroclit, I seemed to get a lot more attention.”
Sitting across from me in a pink silk top, hair loosely tied back, oozing casual Parisian chic, I can't help but wonder if her looks might have helped. “I think it definitely helped. But then, if you're going to get treated like that, you're going to take advantage of it. You'd be stupid to try to battle against that." I can't help but think the DJ sisterhood would firmly agree.