Conversation with a DJ

J Snack bounces from one turntable to the other, transfixed like a child playing with his toys, absorbed by a magical world where there are no rules, no pressures, no questions. His body swerves to the pounding, tribal beats, punctuated by electronic explosions and smooth, shimmering breaks. He's weaving a sonic narrative with his mixer, tweaking, stroking, molding every second of two records that he knows as well as the streets he grew up on. Like a mad scientist, he's the master of this sonic concoction, bringing the room to life under the hazy blacklight glow.

And we're only in his living room.

Snack, real name Chris Ogilvie, just moved into this modest white house off of Raleigh's main drag of Hillsborough Street a few days ago. The house is neat, simple, yet made indescribably cool by the presence of his turntables, mixer and two massive PA speakers, crammed along with thousands of records into a living room the size of a Gilbert-Addoms single. Chris is a senior at N.C. State, majoring in computer science. But more than that, he's majoring in the life of a DJ, and he's been very, very successful at it.

"Chris is very good at keeping a positive outlook," says his girlfriend Susan, a ten-year veteran of the scene who has attended raves all along the East Coast.

Given Chris' success, keeping a positive outlook probably hasn't been all that difficult. He is one of the founding members of Sonic Boom, an eight-member DJ collective and production company that is one of the largest and most respected in North Carolina. Since its inception in August of 1998, Sonic Boom has quickly established a reputation for routinely hosting the biggest raves-or "parties," as most DJs call them-in the Triangle. Chris says that the group tries to put on at least one event per month, usually at venues like the Palace or Power Company in Durham and the predominantly gay Legends in Raleigh.

Putting on a rave isn't easy. According to Chris, a headlining DJ can cost anywhere from $500 to $1,500, plus transportation. Renting a club costs another several thousand. Promotion sends costs even further: Almost all of Sonic Boom's advertising usually comes from a run of 20,000 flyers that are printed up and handed out at other shows, along with the group's web site [www.sonicboommusic.com] and mailing list. Despite its massive success, the mainstream media has almost completely failed to take notice of Sonic Boom, or North Carolina raves in general.

Snack's motives for founding Sonic Boom were obvious: "We founded Sonic Boom so we could throw parties and spin at them," he says plainly. "I know what it's like to be one of those guys out there trying to start out. It takes a lot of hard work and determination."

Da Skillz 2000, a three-part DJ competition that begins tonight at the Power Company in Durham, hopes to give newcomers a chance to get a gig in an already competitive DJ market. Begun by B-Tru productions in 1997, Da Skillz is an attempt not only to break new DJs, but also to assemble as much top talent as possible under one roof. Last year's competition, the first organized by Sonic Boom, featured nationally known DJs such as NYC junglist Odi and Chicago house technicians Terry Mullan and Halo, in addition to the competitors and local talent. At $20 a head, the show sold out the Palace in Durham easily.

While Da Skillz is a big opportunity for unknown DJs, the event is also a watershed for North Carolina. Because of its massive lineup, Da Skillz has drawn ravers from as far as New York, Philadelphia and Washington, DC-all more established scenes. While rave culture is "still underground here," Snack sees great things in the future for the burgeoning North Carolina scene. "This is gonna blow up. Five years from now, it'll be mainstream. People in New York and DC have grown up with this stuff. People here are still learning."

So what's so special about North Carolina? Perhaps it's some Y2K version of Southern charm-Chris and Susan agree that people here are friendlier than elsewhere. Susan adds that the friendlier atmosphere is common to raves in general. "People come for the music-not to pick somebody up. It's a more comfortable atmosphere than in a nightclub."

Because most North Carolina parties are held in established venues, they tend to have a more secure environment than the still-vibrant warehouse raves common up North. They don't require special permits and the police presence is less invasive-Sonic Boom has never had an event shut down by the cops. Other than a massive drug raid at Babylon's First Friday in early December, North Carolina parties have not faced the intense (and often unwarranted) police and media scrutiny of events held elsewhere, such as Washington, D.C.'s Buzz, which was shut down and reopened under a new name last year. Snack characterizes the North Carolina scene as less self-centered than most.

"Corruption is not a problem around here. There's plenty of competition, but people are in it for the overall good of the music."

And as Snack will tell you, the music-loud, scintillating and infectious-is good. "The range of feelings is so broad. It's so intense. It's better than any drug you could do. It's pure, like an escape." Electronic music is difficult to classify-try reading a review of one of the records-but Chris says all the major types can be heard in North Carolina. According to Chris, the major styles-house, breaks, trance, drum n' bass, jungle and techno-are primarily distinguished by the variations in beat pattern and speed, as well as the types of sounds employed. For instance, trance, a style popularized by DJs such as Paul Oakenfold, employs vocal and other samples to create a hypnotic mood, while breaks, exemplified by the style of DJ Icey, are known for slight interpolation between beats. House, probably the most common and most inclusive term, can be distinguished by a distinct "4/4" beat at a rate of about 120 beats per minute. Like trance, house music often uses vocals and other samples.

Chris describes the atmosphere of a rave as "a ten-hour journey, taking you down and ending mellow." There's a sense that the scene's motto, PLUR, which stands for peace, love, unity and respect, still has a ring of truth around here. "I've met people from all walks of life [at raves]," Susan says, "everything from medical malpractice lawyers, massage therapists, students, nurses-even a 43-year-old woman."

Why does this music draw so many people in? What is it about the electronic sounds, relentless beats and wild, multicolored partygoers that have made this the new rock 'n' roll? Even playing in a tiny living room, there's a sense of energy and aliveness to these machine-generated sounds that no musician-arguably, not even Bob Dylan or Mick Jagger or Kurt Cobain-has ever created.

But it's talking to Snack, face to face, that holds the real answer. Humanity-the devotion, the openness, the creativity, the Peace, Love, Unity and Respect is the true heartbeat of rave culture. Even in Snack's living room, you can understand what he means.

"There's nothing like connecting with a crowd. You feel it as much as somebody on the dance floor. It's phat as hell, man. It's so much damn fun."

And it's having fun, and making great music, that is Snack's greatest skill of all.