For Danny Howells, the Friday begins in Miami Beach; for me, it’s New York City. Strangely, we’re on a collision course that will end in Charlotte, N.C. – the next stop on his mini-tour. Progressive house in the former home of the PTL Club, the burg that boasts the Billy Graham Parkway, the very buckle of the Bible Belt? Count me in.

My day will be similar to his, but it will take an earlier start and include an odd detour. Still, it’s what I’d consider a relatively close approximation to the experience of a global DJ like Howells, someone who lives the professional life coveted by up-and-comers and veterans alike.

As the global underground (lower-case version, please) further infiltrates the States, it’s becoming apparent that even clubland’s most respected DJs don’t expect to earn Paul Oakenfold-like fees right away. Global jocks know that air travel and the Internet make it a small world after all, but they also realize that the U.S. is an enormous country full of regional preferences, a nation that can only be conquered incrementally. If MTV isn’t going to immediately replace Britney and the Backstreet Boys with Crystal Method and Josh Wink (or even Craig David), DJs know they better get out and work.

So, much like the indie rock bands of the early 1980s repeatedly played medium-sized markets until the likes of R.E.M., Jane’s Addiction and Nirvana graduated to theaters, sheds and arenas, DJs (especially the Euros) are hitting the road in more out-of-the-way venues than ever. Indeed, that’s how Oakie did it. He planned for the long haul, playing college towns and big cities alike – and he was right.

No, modern electronic dance music culture isn’t going to break big in the United States because of a youth-culture movie, a shocking book or a television personality with a high Q Score. It’s going to be the result of seeds planted and roots spreading. It’s going to flourish because DJs like Danny Howells play next-tier markets like Charlotte and promoters like Charlotte’s 3rd Eye roll the dice on quality DJs like Howells.

In light of the bigger picture, we set out to see if the life of a global DJ is all glory, fantasy and fandom. Are there downsides? Challenges? Or are they all problems of leisure that are merely consequences of living the dream? Danny Howells will tell us. He’s a right good chap.

But more than that, the Hastings, England, native is one of clubland’s rising stars. Long considered dance music’s best warm-up DJ, Howells now commands top-rung status, having parlayed his ascendancy at Brighton’s Bedrock parties into rollicking residencies at Nottingham’s Renaissance, New York’s Twilo and beyond. (Though his Twilo residency was rescinded when the club was closed the very week of this on-the-road experience – Twilo finally went under when a judge revoked its cabaret license soon after – Howells remains popular in NYC and at presstime was poised to play a marathon set at Vinyl.)

Like one of his heroes Carl Cox, Howells is an entertainer, a Type-A personality who always appears to be having more fun behind the decks than those on the dancefloor. Instead of anonymously mixing records, he interacts with the crowd, mugs for them, injects the room with positive energy – all the while dropping spot-on selections with moods ranging from dark, sexy house (John Creamer & Stephane K’s “I Wish You Were Here”) and trancey anthems (Mike Vandenberg’s “Flightpath”) to minimal techno (Monika Kruse’s “Wavez Cycle’) and moody vocal tracks (Slam’s “Life Times”). As much as any jock on the underground circuit, Howells seems to make immediate converts in every city he plays. These days he’s promoting the American release of his Nocturnal Frequencies 3 (Logic), one of the year’s best mix compilations. A month before its release, Howells is test-driving many of the tracks on new audiences – one night after another. Back in our prospective American cities, Miami and NYC, the alarm rings early and we’re on our way.

NYC, 8:30 a.m.: At LaGuardia Airport’s Northwest Terminal D30, an incessant emergency horn squall has travelers nervy and the agent visibly upset. “Can you hurry up and stop that? The passengers are going deaf!” A bad sign for a long day.

Miami Beach, 8:30 a.m.: After a late night playing at Shadow Lounge, Danny Howells is fast asleep in his South Beach hotel room. The cleaning maids awaken him. He rolls over, his body clock still not sure what continent it’s on.

Detroit, 10:45 a.m.: Thanks to a last-minute booking, I’m routed to Charlotte through Detroit. Bewildered and dragged along a moving sidewalk past a long glass case full of Detroit-oriented points of pride, I notice a prototype of a 1968 Moog synthesizer. Detroit’s proud of its cars and now it’s proud of its techno.

Miami Beach, 11 a.m.: More maids and Howells calls the front desk to ask for a late check out. Granted. “And could you please hold the cleaning staff off for awhile?”

Detroit, 11:30 a.m.: Neither the dirty spoons pasted with unidentifiable food chunk nor the syrupy slow service at the Northwest terminal’s restaurant fazes me. I’m in a holding pattern for another hour. A few minutes later after scouring two terminals, I miraculously find a wall plug for my energy-starved laptop – and it’s at my gate! A good sign for a suddenly upbeat day.

Miami, 1 p.m.: Howells is up and out to the hotel cabstand for a dash to Miami-International’s U.S. Airways terminal. He drags two record boxes and a smaller record bag. He’s beginning to feel the strain of playing in Miami, Amsterdam, Tel Aviv, County Antrim in Northern Ireland, and Leeds in his native England – all in the last 13 days. Prior to that, it was Singapore, Tokyo, Glasgow, Helsinki and Newcastle. Give the poor man a break.

Detroit, 1:05 p.m.: CNN Headline News chimes through the terminal on a series of monitors. Travelers actually stop and watch a tribute to departing anchor Lynne Russell. I stop, too, and watch the people watching CNN’s oddly compelling anchor of 18 years – a somewhat surreal airport moment.

Charlotte, 4:00 p.m.: After arriving in Charlotte, I head out to the cabstand and it’s hot. A Russian woman in a dinked-up cab with no A/C and a broken electric window picks me up. I feel like I’m in New York again, until I get to the Marriott City Center and find there’s no place to exchange the foreign money I’m holding. I’m certainly in Charlotte. I catch a nap and, after a couple hours, head back to the airport to meet Howells.

7:52 p.m.: Stepping off US Airways Flight 1234, a Boeing 737-400, two hours on from its Miami launch, Howells is bleary eyed, yet true to his nature, still cheery. Last night’s show at the Shadow Lounge was “OK, but quiet,” he says. His gig tonight? He has no idea what to expect. We jabber on about American cities, Detroit’s Motown Museum, Isaac Hayes and sexy soul songs. We blabber so much we walk completely into another terminal and forget about baggage claim. I’m already on about the JFK assassination and I look up and we’re in the Northwest terminal. We laugh and head downstairs.

8:00 p.m.: At baggage claim, we’re met by Heather Dailey, tonight’s co-promoter (3rd Eye). She’s hiding behind a Yankees baseball cap and sunglasses. She’s thoughtful, assertive, yet unfailingly friendly. As we pile into her SUV, she asks if I’ve ever been to Charlotte and I tell her about a G.G. Allin show some brave friends of mine played back in the ’80s. I gingerly recount how the now-deceased scum rocker spread his gnarly essence at a now-defunct local punk club called The Fallout Shelter and started a riot after just three songs. I’m surprised to hear that Howells knew about him, but he’d actually seen a few of Allin’s posthumous videos. (Then again, Howells was once a psychiatric nurse – so go figure.) Dailey makes Howells promise to keep his body fluids inside and “not get anything on the mixer.” A former Mexico City resident, she offers us “some real tequila” at her house and Howells jokingly declines, “I’m not playing, I’m performing, love – plus when I drink tequila I act like G.G. Allin.” We all laugh as we ease into the hotel.

8:25 p.m.: Howells’ magnetic personality even infiltrates the Marriott bell staff as they yuck it up with him while Dailey checks him in. Along with 3rd Eye partner André Araiz, Dailey has helped bring a series of quality DJs to Charlotte – a town known more for its contemporary Christian music than bang-on electronica. (A quick scan of the local radio dial reveals more religious stations than perhaps anywhere in the country.) Before Howells, 3rd Eye booked Anthony Pappa, Steve Lawler and John Debo, with Scott Hardkiss expected to follow Howells by a few weeks. Dailey is in the corporate payroll business by day, but she and Araiz put their money where their collective passion is – top-grade electronic dance music. And, according to Dailey, the parties are growing. “This scene has got to start somewhere,” says Araiz, “and after we got here from Mexico City there was no music that we loved more, so we decided to get it started. It’s all very exciting.”

8:30 p.m.: Howells is teetering on dementia, so we decide to meet for a proper interview in 90 minutes in the lobby pub. When we get there, he orders a bottle of Bud, me a pint of Guinness. But instead of getting too deep, I decide on a sprint-to-the-finish session, something that doesn’t allow much time for thought. When we finish, he’s just downed his one longneck and is still working on his second Marlboro. “That’s it?” Howells exclaims with exaggerated Brit slang. “A two-fag interview?” I grin, look around and, then remembering where I am, grimace only slightly. I don’t want to have to explain anything to the locals. I leave Howells for a frightening sports bar nearby to grab a quick bite. They’re listening to Molly Hatchet.

DJ Times: How old are you and how long have you been a traveling DJ?

Howells: I’m 30 now, but I do bullshit most magazines. I do it just to see if they’ll print it and they do half the time, so I think it’s quite funny. I’ve been traveling since 1997 outside the U.K. Holland was my first international gig and it spread out from that, really.

DJ Times: Where has this trip taken you so far?

Howells: This trip is really a mini-tour. It was Miami last night at The Shadow Lounge, here tonight and then I’ve got nearly a week in New York starting tomorrow. If Twilo’s open, I’ll be doing that with Danny Tenaglia. Then I’ll be in the studio with John Creamer.

DJ Times: Estimated, how many gigs a month do you do?

Howells: I do every Friday and every Saturday. I don’t really double up at all. I’m not really into that, so it’s just one gig every Friday and every Saturday with occasional Thursdays and occasional Mondays. All in all it’s about 12-13 a month.

DJ Times: What’s the longest you’ve been away from your home in the U.K.? Howells: About three weeks maximum. When you go to places like Asia, Australia it’s best that you bunch them up and utilize the stops as best you can. Flying backwards and forwards just kills me totally. There have been periods where you do a date here and a date there and getting home is like, bloody hell, why don’t I just sleep? But you end up answering all the bills that come in the post.

DJ Times: You still need time to organize your life. So this global DJ thing sometimes isn’t all it’s cracked up to be?

Howells: That’s the only downside, though, in what is an absolutely fantastic life. It makes it hard on relationships and bills get paid very, very late, but that’s it. There’s not much to complain about. The only other thing is fatigue. You do get tired because, obviously, you’re DJing. In people’s eyes you’re just working three hours a night on a Friday and Saturday, but the traveling just takes so much out of you. To give you an example, I had a busy weekend, working Thursday, Friday and Saturday. Then on the Monday I went to Finland, got home very, very late on Tuesday night. Wednesday I did radio stuff, then on Thursday I went to Israel, played Tel Aviv and got back really Friday night. Then played Saturday night. So the behind-the-scenes stuff is the traveling and sitting around and waiting in airports, which can knock you out. But what I’ve found is that you can be so absolutely exhausted that you’re virtually hallucinating. Then you get somewhere and you get comfortable, recharged, relaxed. You meet nice people, you meet new people and you tend to forget that you’re tired a lot of time. You get to the club and start getting the adrenaline and mix the adrenaline with the Red Bull and vodka – and you’re sorted! Suddenly, you forget about it, but the minute you leave the club you’re like, “I am really dead now.” And people are like, “You wanna party?” And you say, “I can barely speak, much less party.” At the end of the day, it’s great, but you never see as much of the place as you’d like to. You move on soon afterwards. You can’t soak up the culture. The best you do is a nice meal, so you can sample the food.

DJ Times: For young DJs who aspire to what you’re doing in terms of travel and gigs, tell them what’s so great about it.

Howells: You’re actually getting to go to places that you never dreamed you’d go to full-stop. Personally, I never dreamt I’d play in the north of England much less coming to places like America and Asia. For me, it was a dream. You’re meeting so many cool people, people who are into exactly the same music as you are. You’re going to countries where you’re not even speaking the same language. You can’t actually communicate. A recent example was Tokyo. I mean, you can communicate, but it’s difficult – especially for me because I ramble when I talk. But you go to the club and it’s magical. You’re playing music and they’re responding to it. You can’t speak to these people, but they’re still making faces at you when you’re DJing and you’re making funny faces back at them – and you’re on the level. It’s unbelievable, really.

DJ Times: You offer a lot of personality in your sets. I noticed from your Saturdays at Twilo that you really like to connect with your crowd right in front of you. When there’s a good moment in a track, you don’t pretend that it’s not happening.

Howells: No, I’m enjoying it as much as they are [laughs]. That’s why the layout of the club is important for me personally and I think it’s good to be on a level where you’re not sky high that you can’t see the crowd. People can reach up to you. Twilo [was] a great example because the last time I was there some guy was up front and he’s like, “Alright mate, I’m from Manchester!” And I say, “Oh cool, nice one!” And he hands me a can of Red Bull. I like to be on the level where people can hand you things or if they want to know what a record is you can show them a record cover…

DJ Times: Or light your cigarette…

Howells: Exactly. I’m usually scrounging lights – or cigarettes, even – from the crowd. But if you’re on the level where you can have a rapport, it’s important. If you’re having a good night and the crowds in a good mood and I see they’re in a good mood that gets me in a good mood and I get relaxed. I start relaxing and I enjoy what I’m doing more and that gets into the music. I start to experiment more and I play better. We’re bouncing off each other. If you go see a band play, you want to see a band interacting with each other, not just staring at themselves. It’s the same with anyone like this. It’s like hecklers with comedians. They’re there to get some reaction from the comedian and get some rapport going.

DJ Times: You remind me of Carl Cox in your approach because when you’re in the DJ booth you’re having fun, making an effort to connect with the people, living in the moment as hard as you can. At the end of the night, people end up liking you, not just the tracks you were playing, because you were partying with them.

Howells: That’s what it is. But it’s not always like that. Sometimes I’m actively looking out into the crowd and trying to find somebody who’s looking at me as well so I can get a rapport going. You look at them in the eye and they might just go, “Oh nice one!” And you do it back. Someone you know might make a funny face and you do it back. The minute you make a connection with them and get eye contact, that’s it. You might flop a mix up or something goes wrong or you bump the decks, you just look up and point to yourself and go, “Wanker-r-r!” You don’t feel embarrassed. You automatically don’t care, really. You are partying with them. That’s how I like it to be, really.

DJ Times: Worst airline experience?

Howells: Traveling to Vancouver for the first time having had no sleep after playing Hastings Pier Party and sitting next to – no disrespect – a complete religious maniac who was insisting that I visit every church in Vancouver and saying, “You don’t want to be going to the clubs! Go to the church!” And I was trying to sleep and she kept waking me up to tell me about her church. I mean, I fell asleep as soon as I got on the plane and she kept waking me up. They were doing a safety demonstration and she woke me up and said, “You can’t miss this!” I was on the verge of punching her.

DJ Times: Worst hotel experience?

Howells: Did a tour in 1997 and we went to one hotel in Hull in the north of England and the rooms were so small the beds wouldn’t actually go flat. It was at an angle. I went to the bathroom barefoot and under my feet there was crunching and I was like, “What the shit’s that?” I looked on the floor and it’s covered with wood lice.

DJ Times: Worst equipment experience?

Howells: I was in Manila for an outdoor gig that they hadn’t really prepared for and halfway through my set there was a monsoon. The rain was so hard that the needle was thrust off my record with such force that it actually scratched my record. It was so funny. I was so wet. It was horrible.

DJ Times: Were you afraid that you’d electrocute yourself?

Howells: Christ, yeah! The rain’s coming down, I’m trying to make the mix sound good and they’re holding plastic sheets over me with great, big holes in it. The rain’s coming through and getting all over me, making things sound worse.

DJ Times: Worst gig experience top to bottom?

Howells: There was one in England about two years ago that was about four hours from me in a place called Chippenham. It was to be me playing with Marshall Jefferson. I got there and there were five people in the club. Marshall Jefferson wasn’t there and I asked the promoter, “Why isn’t anyone here? You told me it would be busy tonight. You said that you’d sold loads of tickets.” And he said, “Oh, didn’t they tell you? Just up the road about 20 meters they just found an unexploded World War II bomb. So the village has been evacuated.” So I said, “Well, why didn’t you tell me? Now I’m ’ere with a bomb up the road!” And he said, “Oh, I thought you knew.” And they made me play my set as well because I was there!

DJ Times: What about transporting records or losing your records?

Howells: Nothing major – touch wood. I’ve had records go missing for a day at a time – once in Ibiza and once in South Africa. I had to DJ with a bag I carry with a few extra records. I borrowed some. But so far I’ve been lucky.

DJ Times: Going into a new town, how do you know what to play? How do you gauge it?

Howells: I try to cater to everything. I’ve shown up for gigs before with my peak-time set only to find out that they’ve changed the times and I’m then playing the warm-up set. I can’t play the warm-up set with bangin’ hard progressive stuff, so no matter what I’m doing I always bring records that can cover the whole night. I have a big section of really deep slow stuff, a section of really mad end-of-night techno-y stuff and every point in between just to make sure I’m covered for everything. I might turn up to a club and it’s got a really nice chilled-out sort of vibe to it and the warm-up DJ is playing it nice and groovy and it’s that sort of vibe then I like to carry on with that vibe and keep it nice and groovy as well. Every set I’ve done is pretty much worked out on the night. Sequences of records that I know might work are thought of, but on the whole it’s spontaneous.

DJ Times: Do you cater to each city? For example, Release in San Francisco might be into the funky, groovy thing or New York might go more progressive.

Howells: If I went to a city that was predominantly trance, I’m just going to go and take my box there. I’m not going to take loads of commercial stuff because I don’t buy those. I don’t play that. I can’t do that. I’ve got all my points in between. If I’m in San Francisco, I know that they’ve got this cool, funky, trippy sort of house thing going on there, which I’m not going to go there and play a set of that. But it lets me know that there’s obviously some quality going on there, which gives me a bit of confidence in doing your own thing. It’s a bit of freedom. Knowing that they’ve got a scene going on there makes me feel like I can fit in there a little bit.

DJ Times: What about in Europe?

Howells: When I’m in countries like Holland and Belgium, it’s interesting to see how the DJs operate over there. Working with the Dutch DJs, they have a different approach, whereas a lot of DJs have a starting off point and building it and building it. I’m fascinated by the way these guys take it up, then bring it right down, then thin right out, then it goes off in a much more minimal moment. For me, there are really perfect moments where it goes from really mental to being completely stripped down. It might be a techno-y drum loop just on its own doing nothing. So I’ve picked up a lot from playing in Europe. I’ve learned quite a lot from playing there.

DJ Times: How have you built your profile in America?

Howells: My first trip was three years ago – Vegas, Orlando, Dallas, some Canadian stuff. I came back shortly after that, same places. When the Twilo residency kicked in that became the main focus and we worked around that. Of course, the Nu Breed album came out and the Bedrock single came out, which pushed things further. We did a Ministry of Sound tour last year that was 14 dates – New York, Boston, Chicago, Detroit, all ’round Canada, the West Coast.

DJ Times: Tough market to crack, huh?

Howells: It’s mad. If you’re Oakenfold and you’re touring relentlessly all over America, you get an idea of just how big this country is – then you have more an idea of how hard it is to actually come through. It’s encouraging for me, though. Like I went to Dallas a few years ago and I was playing my normal stuff and there were really cool crowds. Like coming here tonight, I have no idea what it’s going to be like and I like that challenge and it’s really exciting, just like if I’m playing a new place in Europe or Asia. As long as there are people in the room and vodka and Red Bull I’m happy [laughs].

DJ Times: In a perfect world, what gear would you like to have in a club?

Howells: Mixing-wise, I’m getting pretty spoiled. I was doing Renaissance, plus Home and Twilo. So I’m quite familiar with the UREI and the Rane mixers. I don’t use the fader any more, given up on that. I’ve had too many experiences with dirty crossfaders. You just touch it slightly and suddenly the next record was in totally. I quit using the crossfader years ago and was using the up-and-downs and moved onto the UREIs and Ranes. I’ve started to get the “UREI finger” after playing long sets where I’ve been gripping them so tightly they’re about to come off. I’ve got indentations from the knob. Also, monitoring is so important. You can have the best club in the world, but you need a good monitor. I don’t need to turn it up too loud, but I like to be able to feel it in my belly. I like it to be on the right-hand side because I cup my headphones on my left-hand side. I liked the [EAW] Avalon monitor speakers that they had at the Avalon club in Boston. You could hear so well. The bass was so good you could actually shit yourself [laughs]. I’ll avoid turning the monitor up too loud tonight because we’ve been talking about G.G. Allin too much [laughs]. Also, decks are so important. Obviously, everybody’s got Technics, but please set them up properly so that you haven’t got to put a pound coin on the end of it. If you’ve got an acetate that’s so thin that you can see through it, some needles just tear them up – that really winds me up.

DJ Times: Do you burn CDs?

Howells: I do use the Pioneer CDJs, which are beautiful and wicked. But I’ve had a few bad experiences with CD-Rs. When a CD jumps, it’s not like a record jumps and it’s back in the groove. No, it’s like the noise from hell, just white noise and all sorts of mad shit going on. So, even though it’s expensive, I do try to get tracks put onto acetate. However, they get scummed up so easily and you can only use them for so long. When I get that Vinyl Cutter, I’ll be a happy man [laughs].

DJ Times: Are you finding that the more you travel the more fans there are of your sound?

Howells: I’m constantly surprised. The first time I was in Asia, I was in Singapore and a couple of guys turned up with one of my records. A couple of them had the record out on Bedrock and a couple had a record I did years before and I said, “How the fuck do you know about this?” And they say that they’ve been into it for awhile. I think the sound has been there for a long while, but it has been spreading.

DJ Times: From your travels, do you see that the trance kiddies have begun to graduate to more proper house sounds?

Howells: Yeah, totally. I think it’s the same in a lot of places. That’s why I can’t completely slag off commercial trance or hard house in England at all because, the way I see it, it’s a way in for youngsters, a gateway. I say progressive – but really it’s a mixture of music, hopefully quality music that require a little bit of effort to get into it, but you get a helluva lot back from it as well. There are variations of style. [Steve] Lawler is more tribally, [Anthony] Pappa is more dark progressive. I’m more a bit more housey. But the people who are into it tend to be into it for a good long while because it’s got housey aspects and it’s got a lot to take from it. If you’re 18, you’re not going to be into hard house for the next 10 years because you’re going to look [funny] going mental to it at 30 years old. But I can’t slag that stuff because it is a gateway to electronic music. Now these kids might say, “Oh hell, Danny Howells is so boring,” but in five years they might go out and buy Air’s album or an album by Digweed or Richie Hawtin. They’re going to branch out and expand eventually.

DJ Times: In North America, what are your best cities, your favorite clubs and why?

Howells: Twilo in New York because of the crowd and playing long sets, which mean a lot to me. Vegas in Utopia a few years ago, but more recently Baby’s, which was brilliant. The crowd was superb. Space in Miami during the Conference was unbelievable. Canada is full-stop. It’s a bit ravey there, but crowd-wise was amazing. Vancouver was great and Breathe in Toronto recently at System Soundbar was really, really good.

DJ Times: How about Europe?

Howells: Holland all over is always amazing. Belgium I enjoy because the crowd is really up for the harder, more techno-y end and I love seeing them go mental. They party until mid-day the next day and they still have to work the next day, so I give them top marks for that! Two clubs in England I really care about now are Renaissance in Nottingham and Shindig in Newcastle, which is more house-orientated and they give me five hours, which I really appreciate. I like to keep it down there. They have Danny Rampling there, so it’s a bit deeper, a bit slower. I love the challenge of going there and finishing much lower than I usually would.

DJ Times: And the rest of the world?

Howells: Israel, obviously. I had an amazing time in Finland a few weeks ago. I had an amazing time in Norway. I’ve had some good times in Sydney and Melbourne in Australia. Hong Kong was unbelievable.

DJ Times: What’s coming up for you?

Howells: Productionwise, I have a new single coming out called “Breathe” by Science Department featuring Erire on Renaissance with amazing mixes by Lexington Avenue, Jon Creamer and Sh-Boom. I have another single called “Kinkyfunk” by Kinkyfunk that Deep Dish will put out.

DJ Times: How do you deal with the lifestyle of clubland, the lack of sleep, etc.? How do you avoid burnout?

Howells: The key word is balance. I don’t think you can cut yourself off from the lifestyle because if you’re in this for the first place it’s because you love going out, you enjoy partying with people, you enjoy the music, you enjoy meeting with people, you enjoy drinking with people. That’s why you got into it in the first place, so to say, “Oh, this is my job now and I’m going to drop all this,” no. I think one of the reasons why Sasha is so popular is that he’s actually living it. He loves his music. He loves the job and it’s visible with the guy. You know the guy loves doing what he’s doing. But having the balance is important. A lot of times I go to clubs [where I’m spinning] and people are like, “OK, we’re going to party tonight, we’re going to party tonight.” And I say, “Alright, we’ll have a few drinks afterwards, but this is a Thursday night gig. I’ve a Friday night gig, a Saturday night gig and I’m going to get the same pressure there as well.” You’re only human and you can only do so much, really. You have to keep everything in moderation – or save it all for the final gig of the weekend. Pick your spots. Also, during your week time when you’re at home, you should use that to catch up on sleep and eat as many vegetables as humanly possible [laughs].

 

Midnight: We hook up with Araiz and scoot over to Mythos, tonight’s venue. A really nice, middle-sized club, it’s certainly no Fallout Shelter. There’s JBL house sound with a mix of High End and Martin scanners hanging from a triangle truss system. Before we get to the bar, the Carolina house heads sidle up to Howells as he orders his vodka and Red Bull. Some have driven down from the Research Triangle Area (Durham, Raleigh, Chapel Hill), others have come up from South Carolina. A handful met Howells during his gigs at Miami’s Winter Music Conference the previous March. No matter what, Howells is upbeat and generous with his time, making mirth with everyone. One woman mentions to me that after this gig she’s driving up to New York the next day to catch Howells’ double-bill with Danny Tenaglia at Twilo. I tell her that might not be a good idea.

1 a.m.: Instead of using the club’s DJ booth, which overlooks the dancefloor from a second-level perch, 3rd Eye has installed a DJ setup on the club’s stage. Happy with his close connection to the audience of about 350, Howells has pair of Technics 1200s, a Pioneer DJM-500 mixer, two CDJ-700S CD players and two JBL Eon monitors. Behind him sits a couch – the stage looks and feels like a living room. He starts out storming. The dancers wearing body paint sway and the club’s lasers zing through the room. He shifts to techy and goes deep for a moment, then drops Whatever Girl’s “I Know You Can” and the room goes mental. It’s a clacking, banging, Vocoded moment.

2 a.m.: When Howells brings it down to a sexy groove with John Creamer & Stephane K’s “I Wish You Were Here” people practically begin to hump each other. Howells grins and sips his drink. It’s going off.

2:30 a.m.: Abiding by law, security takes Howells’ Guinness can off the stage. A human bowling ball with a crew cut insists I empty my Red Bull and vodka immediately. I smile earnestly and say, “But it’s only Red Bull…” He glares suspiciously and says, “OK.”

4:00 a.m.: Only the true believers are left – about 150 or so. The sound is minimal techno and subterranean deep, then it lurches forward for one last spiral. The lights come up and there are hoots, hollers and claps. A flock of glad hands reach up to the stage. By the bar, one young man holds a cell phone to his ear and, perhaps a little too loudly, says, “Mom, you gotta pick me up on the side!”

4:30 a.m.: Amid a half-dozen local DJs basking in the afterglow, Howells sorts his records, while the 3rd Eye crew breaks down the stage. We head outside to Dailey’s SUV. Howells wants to indulge in the glory and does the best he can, but you can see that he’s fading. We’re invited to an afterparty, but we both decline – me because I have a tortuously early flight back to NYC (via Detroit again) and Howells because he simply can’t stand up straight.

5:10 a.m.: En route to the hotel, Howells and I briefly discuss the quickly arranged Manhattan loft party he’ll be playing the next night instead of the deceased Twilo. The idea seems impossible to him. The only thing he’s looking forward to is the Marriott in the quickly approaching distance.