Favorite Song No. 332: Placebo – Nancy Boy

Some songs remind me of a moment in life, others of a specific person. Some spark memories, others make me want to dance, and then some are nothing more than catchy songs that I enjoy listening to. Today’s song belongs squarely in that last category. I don’t remember when I first heard it, or who shared it with me, and I’ve never heard a DJ play it in a dance set, although it would rock the house for a group who were familiar with the song; it would clear a dance floor otherwise.

Familiarity is often the issue when it comes to DJ’ing, for most dancers will only dance to a song they know and love. I’m guilty of this, if guilty is the right word, for dancing is inextricably tied to the music being played. The greatest feeling on a dance floor is that of hearing one of your favorite songs while being part of a group of individuals who also know and love the song, and moving as one to the music. I was late to the game in realizing this. I started DJ’ing when I was 14, and by my early 20s I was playing to jam-packed rooms of adoring fans two or three nights every week. I saw from behind the turntables when the crowd swayed as one, heard them scream in unbridled appreciation when I switched into each new song, and received all sorts of praise and accolades from party guests, but I never really understood what was transpiring on the other side of the coffin (that’s what DJs call the big case that holds our turntables and mixer) until late summer 2005, when I finally experienced a great DJ set from a dancer’s perspective.

My life was in flux at that time. I’d endured some very difficult life events, and was quite sad. My close friend and employee, Tim, told me that after our gig that coming Saturday he was going to force me to go out and do something fun. I could choose what we did, but I had to go. Now, I was raised never to have fun. That sounds like a joke, but it’s true. My mom had many sayings that she drilled into us, one of the most common of which was “why would anyone ever pay money just to have fun?” That stuck with me, ridiculous though it sounds, and I grew up to be the sort of person who never did anything or went anywhere “just to have fun.” But since Tim insisted, I did some research and found what I wanted to do– go to a monthly Britpop dance party in San Francisco called Leisure. Britpop was my favorite music, but I’d never been around many others who liked it, and I’d certainly never been anywhere that I could dance to it, so Leisure it was.

That night was revelatory for me. Tim and I arrived on the early side, and sat and had a couple drinks while watching the dance floor slowly fill. The DJ was playing song after song that I knew and loved, which was something I’d never experienced in any of my, granted limited, number of visits to bars and night clubs at which I wasn’t the DJ. When he played “Take Me Out” by Franz Ferdinand two girls grabbed us and pulled us onto the dance floor. The next three hours or so was a blur, as song after song I loved was played, and for the first time I heard those songs while surrounded by others who love the same songs. Pulp, Suede, Blur, Iggy Pop, The Smiths, Elastica… the DJ played all my favorites, and I danced to every one of them. When he played “Laid” by James, I turned and saw Tim, whose last name is Lade, standing on a riser, smiling. He toasted me and said “he’s playing my song!” By the end of the night, I felt transformed. At last I understood the magic of my profession, and what effect I’d been having on people all those years. I also met the bartender, briefly, who would go on to have a profound effect on my life, but that’s a story for another time.