Why I Will Always Request Songs

A lot has changed in the world of DJing and dance music in the past 30 years. Instruments have gotten more powerful, software has gotten cheaper, and the once brave few that used to call themselves "deejays" have swollen into a hungry, teeming mass. Dance has never been more diverse than it is today, and yet my greatest (and only) shortcoming is still scorned: I request songs.

DJs are more united in their hate for requests than for any other cause. One American DJ even shot a guy for requesting he play his CD. I find this odd, because for every DJ with one opinion there is another with an opposite one. For every DJ that loves mixing with mp3s, there is a vinyl purist that despises him. For every DJ that uses Beats by Dre headphones, there is an intelligent DJ with a slightly fuller wallet that laughs under his breath. There is no such opposition force to DJs that detest song requestors. There is no champion for my cause.

Yes, I am aware that you are paid to "do you." I am also aware that no techno DJ will, under any circumstances, have a four-year old beach goth track by The Growlers on his or her USB sticks—not even in a whimsically named ";)" sub-folder. And I don't care.

"So what you're saying is you're a fucking asshole?" you're probably asking me through your screen and a scowl. Before you scroll down to the comments to make fun of my name or question who the hell I think I am to dare having an opinion, I ask that you hear me out.

I recently turned 25 and have now been going to shows for the past six years (in Canada, we can do these things at 19). I've gotten all I needed to out of clubs, whether it's from a main strip sleazebox with ten rotating DJs or a back-alley art gallery where people only play cassettes. There is little left to do that is truly exciting; anything else–like Dan Bilzerian buying out a club, entering a Dan Bilzerian lookalike contest, and then going home to bang a pornstar–is either too expensive or too obscene. Like a married couple that has turned to sex toys to spice up their love life, I have turned to requesting songs to spice up my time spent at clubs.

Rather than spend what little disposable income I have on a night out, I will, with complete conviction, ask a local hip-hop DJ to play some Burial. I will scream inwardly as he fumes at my sincere disappointment. "I thought I was going to hear some REAL music tonight," I will mutter as I walk away.

My actions are not without some empathy for the DJs themselves. I was once one of them and religiously updated my Serato crates for years; each workweek spent in anticipation of the weekend's gigs. I know all too-well how difficult it can be to lay down a few hours of four-to-the-floor when stagette parties–invariably decorated with pink sashes, custom hats, and tequila dribbled down their Forever 21 shirts–want to hear some old school hip-hop. ("Like Nelly!")

In my guilty pleasure, I remain steadfast. I will always request songs and I recommend that you do the same.

Ziad Ramley would like to hear that new Fleet Foxes song and is on Twitter.