Let's play DJ

“I am a DJ/I am what I play.” The refrain from David Bowie’s song “DJ” (found on his stellar 1979 “Lodger” album) has been rattling around my head a lot lately. It’s become the unofficial theme of the recent past, as I’ve been meticulously picking records to spin when I get to play DJ during the Metromix launch party at Crash Mansion on Feb. 28. (And yes, I’m one of those increasingly rare luddites that still schleps around funky ol’ vinyl).  But I’m not here to get all teary-eyed and passionate about how technology and Serato has dirtied up the game. A dope DJ is a dope DJ.

At the same time, a lousy DJ is still just lousy. And there certainly are a lot of “DJs” roaming around out there that have no idea what they’re doing, but have a hard drive filled with tracks swiped from sites like Palms Out Sounds and Fluokids, and think they’re just a guest spot at “Check Yo’ Ponytail” away from becoming the next A-Trak. But put any of those characters next to a real DJ, like master craftsman Z-Trip, and witness sonic carnage akin to “Saw 7: Blood Vinyl.” (See Z-Trip regulate at the Fonda on Feb. 29 and March 2.)

I’m beyond thrilled to see my name on a bill with international DJ gigolo Diplo. I’ve been checking for Big ‘Lo since before he blew up with the notorious “Piracy Funds Terrorism Vol. 1” mixtape made with M.I.A. back in 2004. I’ve seen him ignite more parties than I can count. One of the best (and most surreal) times was a night he spun at the old Conga Room on Wilshire with Brazilian DJ Marlboro. Both DJs positively killed it. The crowd of mostly hot young Brazilians partied like it was New Year’s Eve. I encountered a pissy James Iha and a pimping Kevin Federline, who rolled in with his then-producer, homeboy Disco D (R.I.P.). It was one for the ages.

So during yet another run to Amoeba to unearth that “one” record I can’t live without (at least for the time being), Bowie’s chorus to “DJ” continues to haunt my brain. Am I nothing more than a mix of Daft Punk and Nirvana? Jay Dilla and TV on the Radio? Debatable. But if so, I’m cool with it.

—Scott T. Sterling