by Michael Ohlsson, an American DJ and independent music promoter based in Shanghai, China
It’s Saturday night and I’m in a packed nightclub in Kunming, the largest city in China’s south west Yunnan Province. One of Taiwan’s hottest pop stars Wen Lan ( 温岚 ) has just finished singing. She winks at me and says to the crowd, in Chinese, “and now DJ Michael from San Francisco!!!”
I play an hour set of bhangra and Indian dance pop. The crowd is curious about this music and they get into it, jumping and dancing and trying out new moves, or trying to mimic some Bollywood moves they vaguely remember seeing somewhere once on TV.
I’ve done this a few times and I can sense the club manager is nervous. When we did the sound check this afternoon, he said “House? High music! High high yes? Dance! Dance!” In China, “high music” is not a drug reference, it means music that gets the crowd excited and dancing. I tell him flatly, “no, I don’t play house. I told the agent I’m playing bhangra and Indian dance, she said it was ok.” He looks completely confused and nervous and says “high! dance dance!” I smile at him and say “yes, I know, I’m a DJ, and people who come to your club like to dance.” Tonight they go wild, it’s a great party, and the club manager asks me to come back.
Truth is, it doesn’t always work. At one club in another city, I received a tepid and confused response to the bhangra music, and even after switching to a safe bet — electro — the resident DJ politely said I could take a break, after only 20 minutes of playing. But I still try to challenge the audiences here because that’s where my passion for DJing stems from — sharing new music, “new” meaning it’s fairly undiscovered to the audience. And most of the time it works. Chinese audiences are tricky — compared to most countries I’ve been to, they are very unfamiliar with most kinds of popular music — but they do have an un-jaded curiosity deep within. The trick is in delivering the new experience in the right way.
You may wonder why an American white boy is playing bhangra music in China. I’ve DJ’d all sorts of music over the years, from reggae to rock, techno to hip hop. But after some recent trips to India, I collected a stack of CDs that work on most dance floors anywhere, and to see the audiences here in China experience something different on another night out is rewarding. Many of them appreciate it, inquire about it, remember it, and ask for more. Besides, I get really bored playing house.
I am, however, an oddball exception to the norm. Most of the “lao wai” (foreign) DJs play the safe route, offering up a familiar set of mainstream hip hop, house, electro, trance, or generic club music. Every weekend, in every 1st and 2nd tier city in China, there’s at least one club boasting a “foreign DJ.” While Shanghai and Beijing will frequently have a famous international DJ like Paul Van Dyk, Tiesto, or Paul Oakenfold, most of these 2nd tier city gigs are “starring” an expat foreigner already living in China. Many of them came here to “teach English abroad” and found that playing CDs for an hour paid better than a week’s work babysitting in some kindergarten.
When I first arrived here and saw this circus — clubs begging to book a “foreign DJ” regardless of talent or experience, and refusing local (Chinese) talents, I was offended. Even foreign DJs with Asian ethnicities were rejected in favor of a black or white face (the same can be said for English teaching jobs here). But in the end, this is showbiz, and that’s what sells tickets. Foreigners are exotic here in a land so homogenized that most people don’t know the difference between the concepts of “nationality” and “ethnicity.”
The circuit works like this. A major, international, alcohol brand like Johnny Walker, Chivas, or Remy Martin is aggressively seeking to conquer the emerging market. They either own, invest in, or at least sponsor events at night clubs around the country. To promote their brands, they frequently hold special events to pack a venue and attach some “cool” to their brand. An easy and fail-safe way to do this is to have a “foreign DJ” appear at their parties. Especially outside of Shanghai and Beijing, most consumers have no idea whether this or that foreign DJ is really famous or not, and if they’re simply told so, they have no reason not to believe it.
I should know. Even though I was a DJ for years back in California, I wasn’t anywhere close to being famous, and only dreamed of someone offering to pay a flight and fancy hotel for me to play at a party in another country. But in China when I play at a second-tier city (say, under 10 million population) I arrive at the club to see a giant billboard outside the club with my face on it, magazines with full page ads of me, and excited clubbers taking photos of me as I step up behind the DJ booth. An emcee announces my entry, the spotlights focus on me, drunken dancers try to toast with me but are held back by security, and during every long break in a song, the emcee reminds the crowd “let’s hear it for DJ Michael from USA!!!” It feels like I’m famous.
These gigs pay, on average, 2,500 RMB (about 330. USD) a night. That’s about the average monthly salary in Shanghai, which is China’s most expensive city.
But it’s not like that every night. In fact, after you “do” a city, they generally can’t “use” you for a year. They couldn’t play you up to be a special flown-in bling bling supastar DJ if you show up every weekend. And so it goes, a hundred freelance rookie DJ agents calling you every week — “can you help me find another foreign DJ? We need one tomorrow night in Hunan Province!”