New
York City – Interviewing François Kevorkian isn’t exactly
akin to a press conference with Defense Secretary Donald
Rumsfeld – the stakes are certainly different – but
the word prickly does come to mind. Perhaps true to
his artistic nature, there’s rarely a question he doesn’t
want to rearrange, disassemble or recast in some way.
And the answers, while offering depth, wisdom, perspective
and some tasty provocation, can be circuitous, rarely
arrived at by directly addressing the inquiry he had
an issue with in the first place. He’s a man seemingly
bent on sharing his never-ending supply of semantic
Play-Doh – or maybe my list of questions just, y’know,
sucked.
Regardless
of the interview’s quirky dynamic – much of which has
been tidied for you dear readers – the fact remains
that after more than 25 years in the music business
as a drummer, DJ, remixer, producer, A&R scout, studio
owner and label chief, there isn’t much that the 48-year-old
Kevorkian hasn’t done or isn’t currently doing. And
if you shut up and listen, like I did, there’s much
to learn.
The
short version: The French-born Kevorkian was a drummer
who moved to New York in 1975, hooked up with some of
the era’s best-known DJs (Walter Gibbons, Jellybean
Benitez, Larry Levan, etc.), became a top DJ himself,
gained notice with his homemade edits, performed A&R
duties for disco label Prelude, became a top remixer
and producer, worked on a series of classic cuts like
his remix of Musique’s “Push Push in the Bush,” took
a six-year DJing hiatus in 1983, and in 1987 he started
Axis Studios, which has recorded artists from Madonna
to Deee-Lite, Mariah Carey to Mary J. Blige, C+C Music
Factory to Todd Terry.
Currently,
he runs the influential Wave Music label, which since
its 1995 inception has released music from a wildly
diverse roster that includes Itaal Shur’s Milk & Honey
project, Kevin Aviance, Fonda Rae, Floppy Sounds and
François K himself. (His latest mix comp, Deep and Sexy,
offers a deep and beautiful collection of Wave-released
tracks.) Additionally, he travels the world as a DJ,
and – along with Joe Claussell and Danny Krivit – spins
each Sunday’s Body & Soul party at Manhattan’s Vinyl
club. Offering an early evening mix of classics, new
sounds and sweet vibes, Body & Soul remains one of the
most heartfelt musical experiences you’ll find in New
York City. It’s simply about the music, which is presented
by a trio of DJs whose collective passion is palpable.
With the exception of a fascinating article he showed
me from NewScientist.com about how artificial intelligence
experts at Hewlett-Packard have invented a computerized
DJ that could play dance music based on an audience’s
biological impulses, Kevorkian wasn’t particularly interested
in talking tech or discussing the processes of modern
music production. Instead, he seemed to remain drawn
to its end result – powerful music. And in the wake
of the 9/11 events, which occurred only a short walk
from Vinyl, Kevorkian seems intent on revisiting the
full breadth of music’s power to uplift, inspire and
eventually heal.
DJ
Times: As a longtime New Yorker, how have the events
of 9/11 impacted your DJ sets?
Kevorkian:
A DJ is really an illustrator for the cultural things
that go on in the community. We did a [9/11 benefit]
party at Centro-Fly where every DJ played for free to
raise money for the police department and fire department
family members, people who had love ones basically killed.
So deeply wounding are these things. Basically, the
message in the songs that we played at the benefit –
because, of course, we played songs – we couldn’t help
but make it something really topical, poignant, trying
to sum up the feelings that maybe we should be looking
forward to having some hope, rebuilding, keeping it
together, treasuring the memories of those that are
gone. Certainly, if you think in those terms there are
a lot of songs that have those kinds of lyrics – powerful
songs. Some people pointed out to me that when they
talked to younger DJs that wasn’t the case. They played
all instrumental music. So to them, songs have no meaning,
it’s just tracks.
DJ
Times: Generational difference?
Kevorkian:
I don’t know. Are we saying that depending on your age
you either play a song with a message or you play tracks
with no message at all? I was kind of startled by that
and it made me realize that – especially during the
time of the benefit, which had Louie Vega, David Morales,
Danny Tenaglia, everyone was there – everyone who contributed
was so conscious of this and they really brought to
the party a new dimension, like when I saw David Morales
drop his own record, “I’ll Be Your Friend,” and listening
to those lyrics in that context was not just powerful
and touching – it was intense! Feeling the impact of
those lyrics when they’re appropriately played was the
same way that I felt about my own little contribution
to the whole thing. It was a ballad, a Stevie Wonder
song, “Ribbon in the Sky.” You can go and check the
lyrics if you want. [“We can’t lose with God on our
side/We’ll find strength in each tear we cry…”] There’s
no explanation necessary in my opinion. That’s the kind
of emotional power that music can have and certainly
as a DJ I felt whatever I could do to help was certainly
a little bit of a healing mission to help bereaved people
try to keep it together and give people a sense of hope,
a sense that they’ll be able to get out of this. This
is a heavy-duty trial and we need to be able to come
out of this together. Literally, I wasn’t even able
to play music or listen to a record or anything for
a couple weeks after [9/11]. The raw reality of what
happened was just too intense.
DJ
Times: You’re a longtime New Yorker as well and
your weekly party [Body & Soul at Vinyl] wasn’t too
far from the area.
Kevorkian:
Yeah, we’re about 400 yards away from what they call
Ground Zero. It’s still something that we’re all reeling
from and I don’t think that any of us can measure the
true impact that it’s having on our everyday lives.
It’s just too soon. In regards to the music I play,
I know that the first trip I took after [9/11] I went
to London and I usually don’t speak [at gigs], but I
just felt like taking the mic and telling them that,
with all the fear of people flying, it was really important
for me to come to that gig and see them and share that
moment with them and just to let them know that we’re
OK in New York. We’re dealing with it. It wasn’t that
big of a party. It was a small club – on purpose I play
that kind of place – and I’ve very rarely felt that
kind of overwhelming response from a crowd.
DJ
Times: How important was it to get back on the decks
and play music again?
Kevorkian:
I gotta be honest with you. When these things happened,
music wasn’t even secondary. It was at the bottom of
the list compared to what anybody who lives in New York
feels like they should be doing. Now that we have some
distance and a tiny bit more perspective – with war
going on and God knows what – I just think that it might
just serve to highlight the fact that every minute of
our lives is precious and every song that we play should
be played for a reason. It shouldn’t just be a filler
track to get from this to that. It serves to highlight
the precious nature of being alive and the gift of playing
music. Therefore, when I’m playing music I try to make
sure that every song that I play is a special song,
a song I really want to play, not just some garbage.
DJ
Times: Let me go backwards for a moment. How did
you move from being a drummer into being a DJ? I read
that you were hired to play ambient music in a restaurant.
Kevorkian:
Yes, in France, as a DJ. Every time I made people
dance, they would be upset at me because their theory
was if I played music that made people dance they could
not drink and the purpose of playing music was for people
to drink and have a good time. So it had to be on the
un-danceable tip. So I had to find things like King
Crimson, Frank Zappa, polyrhythms or whatever that you
couldn’t possibly dance to.
DJ
Times: You moved to New York in 1975 and eventually
hooked up with legendary DJ Walter Gibbons and played
drums while he spun.
Kevorkian:
The owner of Galaxy hired me to play the drums while
his DJ was playing and I didn’t know who his DJ was
and I’d certainly never stepped foot into a major downtown
underground club in Manhattan at that time. This was
February 1976.
DJ
Times: What was that experience like? I read that
Walter wasn’t thrilled about having a drummer for accompaniment.
Kevorkian:
Well, who would be? He claimed it would throw him off.
By the time the sounds of what I played came back to
his ear it would add a confusing element to the mix
and mixing could be difficult. But it was OK. We worked
it out. He got to like me and we became friends. But
the first few times we did it, he threw every drum solo
he could possibly throw at me. Luckily, those were the
things I really knew. It was the other music that I
didn’t know – the stuff that was typically dance music
from the underground American scene. A drum solo, like
Chicago’s “I’m A Man,” I knew like the back of my hand
[laughs].
DJ
Times: What did you learn from Walter Gibbons and
what kind of DJ was he?
Kevorkian:
He was an absolute technical wizard. As far back
as 1976, he could probably cut almost as fast as hip-hop
DJs are today, but without the same kind of equipment.
He just had a whole repertoire of things and I never
got to find out who he knew it from – like he’d take
two records and make them flange together. He knew how
to repeat the phrases by offsetting the records one
to the other. He had this technique where he’d do incredibly
fast cuts between records – extend basically any part
of the record he felt like extending. I mean, hip-hop
DJs go down to two beats or something ridiculous. Him,
it was a few seconds, but technically speaking it was
really advanced, especially at that time, and he was
so smooth about it that nobody knew he was really doing
it. He was that smooth. He was playing really soulful,
powerful dance music at that time, which subsequently
changed because he got turned onto a very heavy religious
meaning and, from that time on, he refused to play any
song that had “dirty” lyrics. But when I met him he
was really into James Brown and all the really heavy
“get-down” stuff and the pretty diva records, “Love
to Love You Baby,” that kind of stuff.
DJ
Times: Rare Earth, things like that?
Kevorkian: Yeah, actually that Rare Earth record
you mention was one of his drum records and he had a
lot of drum records that were fairly obscure, but he
brought ’em in in a way that everybody loved it. The
way he was playing it, “Happy Song” by Rare Earth gave
me ideas and I thought that it was a lot of hard work
to cue up these songs the way he did. Why not make a
little medley of it and put it together so I can just
play it and not have to worry about going back and forth
between those two copies? I could do it, but why do
it? The same way I demonstrated my other talents of
laziness by switching from a drummer to DJ – so much
less to carry, so much less to rehearse – was the same
way I perfected it more by deciding to put a new version
on an acetate. That was definitely a Walter thing.
DJ
Times: So you got good with a razor blade, I guess?
Kevorkian:
The first edit that I did on “Happy Song” was actually
before I knew there were editing blocks, splicing tape
and razor blade. That was done with a pair of scissors,
figuring out if I cut the tape here then this is what
it sounds like. I kept practicing with the scissors
and I put it together with Scotch Tape and I put the
Scotch Tape on the side so it was a handcrafted edit.
I still have the tape, by the way.
DJ Times: Attention Pro Tools users, here’s how
it used to be done.
Kevorkian:
Really, after I discovered that there was an edit block
and that it was really easy to do, I got quite adept
at it. I only saw people do it a couple of times in
the studio where I was going to master – Sunshine Studio,
to make cheap acetates. It only took a couple of times
of seeing someone else do it to make me think, “Oh,
alright, leader tape – that’s a good idea…”
DJ
Times: And Jellybean Benitez at Experiment 4 helped
you get your first DJ residency.
Kevorkian:
Yes, he was the resident DJ and I was the busboy. I
was cleaning toilets and doing all sorts of other glamorous
jobs. I think the high end of my job there was catering.
I was deemed articulate enough to actually place slices
of ham on a plate and bring them to customers. I kept
pestering the manager to let me DJ and they kept saying,
“You’re not a DJ.” I kept giving them audition tapes
from home, but I didn’t have a mixer, so I had to use
a tape recorder where I’d mix in mono and mix one track,
stop, rewind the tape a little bit, and then mix in
the next song with the delay between the playback and
record head. I had to offset my mixes in mono. Then
I’d have to mix it down to another tape deck by varying
levels. It was like two-track mono, so I simulated mixes,
but I did it well enough that you couldn’t tell it was
without a mixer. By the time I did it with a mixer it
was so easy compared with the hard work with a tape.
Anyway, I was giving Jellybean acetates, saying, “Look,
try this hot mix, it’s a hot edit,” whatever. We had
become friends. One day Jellybean called in sick for
a private party – he really didn’t want to work it.
But he called in so late that they couldn’t arrange
for anyone else. We had set it up and I brought my records
and Jellybean said, “Hey, why don’t you have François
DJ?” So they said, “We’ll give you a try, but if it
doesn’t work out the first few records, we’ll have to
call somebody else.” I had never touched a mixer yet
in the DJ booth. But I guess it worked out.
DJ
Times: How did you move into production and your
work with Musique?
Kevorkian:
Prelude was one of the labels in New York that I used
to visit when I was making the rounds. I was working
at a club called New York, New York, which was Studio
54’s direct competitor. I was with this other guy, Ted
Currier, who was the first DJ who started the Fun House
and he became the in-house producer and A&R for EMI
Records. Prelude played us some new tracks and wanted
our opinions on them and we started giving them a little
report. The Prelude owner asked me to stay and talk
and told me he liked how I listened to music and proposed
to give me an A&R job. I didn’t know what that meant,
but when I found out I was happy to do it and they put
me right away in the studio working on stuff and the
first record I did was “Push Push in the Bush.”
DJ
Times: What was your approach to that song?
Kevorkian: By 1978, I was doing a lot of editing
and had some experience as a DJ – at least a year and
a half [laughs] – and I knew what crowds liked. But
please understand, back then I was working as a DJ six
or seven nights a week at New York, New York, so I went
in the studio and I told Prelude that I needed time
to study the song. So I took the multi-track piece by
piece and I printed to two-track pieces of tape. I basically
had the drum and the bass on track one and two, then
guitar and organ on three and four. I went to the next
part of my two-track tape and I had all the elements.
I went back to the office and I wrote out a structure
of the song – what track does what at each part of the
song. So I had a recreation of the song on paper. Then
I could isolate which elements I liked about the song
and which ones I wanted to highlight. By the time I
got in the studio I was able to tell the engineer Bob
Blank – me, without much experience – that this is the
part I want to take, take the vocal here, edit there,
and so on. Between the two of us, we made it happen.
Then I went in the edit room and edited some more.
DJ
Times: How the concept of mixing and remixing has
changed…
Kevorkian:
Let’s just keep things in perspective. A remixer
in 1978 is someone who takes your track and just mixes
it differently. I think the concept of mixing today
means, “Screw the original production; let me re-produce
the record.” That wasn’t the case for me. I just took
the elements from someone who was a disco god, [Musique’s]
Patrick Adams, and I just remixed them, using his elements.
I think the song was hit in its original form, but the
version I did added an extra dimension of club friendliness
and maybe more spectacular.
DJ
Times: What do you remember the most from making
music in that era?
Kevorkian:
Too much was happening. I got to work with a lot
of great artists. I was kind of thrown to the wolves.
I was in sessions where I was supposed to tell people
twice my age and with 25 years of recording experience
what to do. It was pretty intimidating and I was just
trying to make the appropriate contribution musically,
whether it was mixing or being an A&R guy. It was really
an incredible time. I was maybe too busy working to
take perspective. It was an endless stream of sessions
– record after record after record. And when I wasn’t
in the studio I was DJing. I was fully immersed in music
– it’s still kind of like that today.
DJ
Times: And the clubs in New York City compared to
today’s environment?
Kevorkian:
It was incredibly fertile. There were so many more clubs
then than there are now. I don’t know why. More people
are living in Manhattan now than there were then. There
were some major, major clubs like 12 West and The Flamingo
for the gay white crowd. There were some of the black
gay and black underground clubs that were equally powerful.
I was just getting to learn about this. I was propped
into the scene so fast that I didn’t even know about
the clubs until I played in them – I didn’t necessarily
know their history. For example, Flamingo was closed
in the summer and in 1977 someone rented it out for
the whole summer and I played there the whole summer
for a black crowd. It was the same summer the [Paradise]
Garage opened and right before Studio 54 opened. Back
then, there was Studio 54, Xenon, Harrah’s, New York,
New York, and, if you want to consider it, Regine’s.
There were also the underground clubs, whether they
were straight, gay, whatever – Better Days, Buttermilk
Bottom, Gallery, the Garage, The Loft, 12 West – just
so many places. It just hasn’t been as rich or flourishing
as it was back then.
DJ
Times: Why do Larry Levan and Paradise Garage maintain
its legacy?
Kevorkian:
Why do people talk about Jimi Hendrix? Well, because
today you can go to a club and watch some lame-ass guitar
player trying to play three licks together that have
a little bit of bluesy feeling. We’re talking about
somebody who could transfuse an audience with his guitar
and create plasma with the notes he played. It’s kind
of the same reason. Larry was more than just an incredibly
talented DJ. He had this club that was his house, his
music, his sound system. There was something going on
there that was far too advanced for the times. Sadly,
it all kind of fell apart because of AIDS and I think
that Larry and a lot of his contemporaries were robbed
of their true success. They fell victim to an epidemic.
That generation that was so creative – whether it was
graphic arts like the Keith Harings or a Larry Levan
– they’re all dead. They don’t have anything to celebrate
anymore. It created a disconnection between them and
the following generation because that tradition was
not really passed. What was great about [the Garage]
was that, for the people who went, it was the most amazing
party you’ve ever been to. The music was absolutely
electrifying. Larry didn’t just play fierce records;
he decided what [the party] was going to be like and
how he would make the party. Sorry to say, but no such
people are around today. He did it year after year and
he had a level of refinement that was difficult to emulate.
I know that a lot of people in past interviews, for
various reasons, claim that Larry passed the mantle
or the torch onto them – I’m very unconvinced that that’s
true. The reason is because most of that crowd is gone
and people today party in a different way. Larry was
a true original – as a DJ, in the studio, mixing, all
kinds of ways, as a friend.
DJ
Times: Before Larry Levan passed away in 1992, you
did a tour of Japan with him. How did you two perform
your tag-team DJ sets on that trip?
Kevorkian:
There was always a dynamic of certain interaction between
us. I know there was interaction with other of his close
friends like Tee Scott or Larry Patterson or even David
DiPino. Our interaction maybe was a little more because
we were both studio animals. There’s a certain fierceness
in the music that we’re both after. The tour was really
an expression of that and we found a common vehicle
of expression of that as a team. He would make some
kind of statement to the crowd. It wasn’t at all a rivalry,
quite the opposite. Then I would try to take his statement
and take it on a little bit and he would say, “Hey,
wow!” Then he’d take it even far beyond that. Then we’d
keep blowing each other’s minds. So when you see two
people do that genuinely, sometimes the crowd went berserk.
Every night was pretty spectacular – really great. We
were discussing moving on and we talked about doing
a Sunday night party at The Loft because it was struggling
financially. Of course, it never happened because he
went straight from the airport to the hospital and never
really came out.
DJ
Times: At the Garage, how did his idiosyncrasies
manifest themselves? Kevorkian: If he felt like turning
the music off for a half-hour and put a movie on, he’d
do it. If he felt like playing ballads for three hours,
he’d do it. It had nothing to do with some club owner
telling him, “Beer sales are going down when you do
that.” First of all, no alcohol was served. It was a
different concept; it was not an employee concept. He
was part owner of the club and it gave him the opportunity
to train people to respond in a certain way and his
dedication was unbelievable. I remember after he’d finish
around noon, I’d maybe help him move speakers around
and then we’d go hear David [Mancuso] at The Loft, who
was still playing from the night before. We were just
living music. It wasn’t about, like some of the people
I see today, who are more worried about, “Is my set
over in four minutes and 20 seconds? Has my agent collected
the money? Can I take the helicopter to my next two-hour
gig?” In some ways, it’s kind of sad that we don’t have
a monumental figure like that today who could slap silly
all these wannabe superstar DJs, who all think that
they are so magnificent, while a lot of them don’t take
the time to work the system properly, but they sit there
looking grand. It’s kind of saddening not having an
example. That’s what Larry was – someone who could move
mountains.
DJ
Times: Why did you stop playing records in 1983?
Kevorkian:
I was too busy in the studio. I felt that people were
accustomed to hearing me DJ with a standard of quality
were I was investing a lot of time finding new releases
and stuff that nobody ever heard or breaking records
that I felt particular about. I got so busy in the studio
and traveling that there was no way I could keep a regular
DJ schedule. I would’ve rather quit while I was ahead.
Also, I didn’t have a full-time residency – I did a
lot of guest spots – and in order to gain a full-time
residency I would have to become a competitor with one
of my friends’ clubs or take their job, neither of which
was an option for me. I had accomplished a lot of things
in a short few years, was proud of it, and would prefer
people had a good memory about that, instead of becoming
a has-been DJ.
DJ Times: Regarding remixes, has the dance music
industry changed much since that time?
Kevorkian: Everything worked the same way. The
only difference in those days maybe was that the artists
were a lot pickier about how you were supposed to mix
their records and they weren’t quite used to the concept
of you calling a remix a “reproduction.” It’s evolved
slowly. I remember in 1981 or ’82 already doing remixes
where there was a fair amount of additional production
to change the record. But by ’87 or ’88, everyone was
stripping everything out and making their own record
with the original vocal and calling it a remix.
DJ
Times: Why did you start Wave Music?
Kevorkian:
Frustration. I kept doing [remixes and productions]
and people kept telling me things like, it’s too fast,
too slow, too white, too black, too this, too that,
not enough that. I volunteered to do a remix for somebody
for free and they didn’t like it and I was like, “OK,
that’s you’re opinion, but you know what? I’m tired
of this.” I’m going to make my own music and put it
out. I was tired of dealing with major labels and A&R
departments or even small labels that tried to pay you
two pennies and dictate what you should be doing. This
was seven years ago and, being as how I had a recording
studio [Axis] capable of producing endless streams of
material for reasonable cost, I felt it was an OK thing
to try out.
DJ
Times: So what do you think of Hewlett-Packard’s
computerized DJ?
Kevorkian:
Over the course of seeing dance music evolve for 25,
30 years, I’ve seen from these luxuriant gardens of
rhythms, beautiful peaks and valleys that used to be
my home. I’ve seen vast portions of it become bulldozed,
flattened, landscaped and become sort of very mindless.
I go see some DJs play and I’m struggling to understand
what differentiates one track from the next. It seems
like an endless flow of similar-sounding tracks. Although
there are extremely talented individuals and performers
out there who have mastered the craft of using records
to entertain a crowd and bring them to an aural auditory
orgasm, I think there is a great majority of wannabe
DJs. It’s not for me to judge whether they’re good or
not. But I think those wannabe DJs are soon going to
be replaced by very sophisticated algorithmic composition
devices that are far more astute at being consistent
in entertaining a crowd. The sad reason for that is
not because I want it, but because some of the dance
music has become so predictable and so formula-based
that it is now very easy for a couple of clever database
programmers to input all the parameters that make dance
music what it is. It is really easy to define an amount
of patterns, progressions, beats, melodies and you can
quantify those and make a machine generate those on
the fly for you. Once that’s the case, it’ll be an interesting
phenomenon. Just like DJs have replaced musicians –
to their great chagrin – now there may be something
around the corner to replace the complacent DJs that
keep playing an endless stream of what I call garbage
because it’s uninteresting. It is devoid of any passion,
has no meaning except that it’s the new white label
of the week. And if you look back on it in two years
later, you wonder why in the hell you were playing that
crappy track. Well, that kind of thing is going to change
in the next 10 years because club owners will figure
out that it’s much cheaper to license that machine and
the customers will be entertained in the same way as
that guy who was standing there and slapping 10 records
on.
DJ
Times: So who’s going to be the DJ that keeps the
human element in the booth?
Kevorkian:
There will be lots of them, but I think that machine
is going to make them work a lot harder at showing that
they have something that makes a difference.
DJ
Times: Darwinism in the DJ booth?
Kevorkian:
Why not? The music producers and the people that have
made the dance music of the last few years have created
this monster – not me. And they’ve created this monster
by trying to distill the essence. This is the thing:
When you look at a track from the old disco days, the
track took a while to get going. You had a little intro
and it took a while to get there, and then you had a
song, and then the song went into a whole breakdown.
And now when you hear a record, it starts at 110-percent
and it has nowhere to go. It doesn’t. They figured out
the art of remixing and having that powerful, strong
element to such a degree that now that is present in
most of the songs you hear in the store – immediately.
You throw it on and you go, “Wow! This is great!” But
then you say, “OK, the intro is kind of long.” Six minutes
later, you ask the guy in the store, “Is this all the
record does?” And he goes, “Well, what do you expect?”
Like, I’m not supposed to ask if it does anything else.
It’s just a very long intro – for eight minutes. So…I
think that that Darwinism is in the productions and
people coming up with the same copies of beats that
they chop off each other, the same loops that are used
endlessly by countless producers. I only show this article
not because I think that it’s good or I advocate it.
I think the evolution part of it is coming. And it’s
coming because we’ve created our own boring landscape.
And for those DJs that are actually spending time creating
amazing, interesting, beautiful storytelling landscapes,
I don’t think there’s much chance of them ever being
replaced. But those playing endless mumbo-jumbo, they’re
easily replaced because they’re playing music like wallpaper.
It’s utilitarian. We’re playing music for soundtrack
to the mating rituals for people who come to the club
for their lifestyle. For those people, it doesn’t matter
who is playing the music – or what is playing the music.
DJ
Times: Since you began, what do you think are the
most important technological developments for DJs?
Kevorkian:
Nothing. I think I’m basically using the same things.
I may have been using a reel-to-reel for effects and
now I’m using a digital reverb. Maybe I was using exclusively
vinyl and reel-to-reel tapes and now I’m using more
CDs. Now I’m using a sampler. But all these things don’t
represent a quantum leap. They’re all very incremental
changes. DJs are actually very conservative people by
nature. The only people who made me believe that something
was up were, like, Richie Hawtin where he’s incorporating
drum machines, live effects processors and looping devices
with records. That’s starting to evolve. That’s a little
more serious now.
DJ
Times: And technology for the producer/remixer?
Kevorkian:
It can only be the sampler and the ability for any turd
to not know a note of music and to actually be able
to crank out a track based on other people’s music.
DJ
Times: What was your musical approach to your mix
comp, Deep and Sexy?
Kevorkian:
I was looking at our entire catalog and I felt that
there was a collection of songs that really had a common
mood, something that really linked them together as
far as the atmosphere and the general groove. It just
fell into place. I didn’t have to think about it. It
made itself in front of my eyes. There was no grand
directive. It had a jazzy undertone in certain tracks.
It was just…deep and sexy. The feedback so far has been
very sweet.
DJ
Times: From your vast experience, how do you these
days view dance music and its future prospects?
Kevorkian:
In dance music, the problem you have with the United
States and the reason why it’s so different from Europe
is that in Europe you have radio support. In Europe,
advertisers feel that it’s OK to associate advertising
their products and dance music. In the United States,
a number of committees that control the airwaves have
decided that their advertisers have told them that they’re
not willing to pay as much per minute of airtime if
the station’s format is dance music and they’re willing
to pay for other formats. I also think part of America
is very Puritan. It has a guilt complex induced by religious
educations and therefore they feel that the lifestyle
that disco or dance music implicates involves minorities
and gay people. Ever since the days of Comiskey Park
and the record burnings, there is a large portion of
the population that’s prejudiced. Dance music is not
prejudiced. It doesn’t see color. It’s a very inclusive
kind of thing. It brings people together. There are
a lot of people who are very much against that. When
I see things like what happened on September 11 – not
that I see anything really positive in it – but maybe
it’s something that can make people find some common
ground in that. It can unite people and I think music
is something that can do that.