So if you know about me, you know I started DJing a few months ago at friends parties and whatnots.
If you know know about me, you know I started DJing a decade or so ago, took a long ass break to focus on my career,
then picked it up again because I wanted to spend more time with my hobbies.
It's been an interesting journey getting back on the metaphorical horse. I remember why I loved this hobby.
I remember asking Kevin to teach me because I loved music and I wanted to be cool like Kev. Cool like Kobby.
They inspired me in getting started. Kevin and I in particular had many similarities, a penchant for music, dancing, and terrible choices.
And sickle cell. We both had sickle cell. And gave too little fucks about it even though it metted out the most punishment for our forlorn choices.
But it was fun.
We were kindred in that regard.
I miss you man.
I decided a few months ago to revisit DJing.
Nostalgia, like a crisis, had seeped into my bones.
I gave myself a random ultimatum. As I usually do...
Do 8 gigs before the end of year and see how it goes. Why 8? Why not? It had to be some number so 8 it was.
I think the one I just completed today was gig number 7. It was a good one. Reminded me of why I loved playing in the first place.
And little to none of the anxiety and self-criticism I so uncaringly adorn myself with.
"How was it sonny boy?""It was good, they loved it... but I feel I could've been better. I don't think I had the best song choices and I messed up some transitions."
But they loved it. I just struggle to get that through my head.
This gig reminded me of the shared love for songs from a time that recedes further in the mirrors of my memories.
The host, a friend of a friend, in talking, mentioned his love for similar old songs that he didn't expect to hear, out here, in London.
Throwback tracks from the likes of B4bonah.
And in his remarks, he somehow ended up at Kevin.
I didn't expect to be reminded of him today, but here we are. At the rekindling of my love for DJing. And here's Kevin. Kindred.