(As published in Malay Mail)
A GLANCE around the club and the happiest face in there will be that of the DJ.
He gives his all and, in turn, ensures the audience goes home with a night to treasure.
That’s what Charles Buenaventura, 58, is all about — putting happiness of others before him.
“A DJ’s first job is to entertain. En-ter-tain,” asserted Charles B, as he is popularly known on the circuit.
It was just so when more than 500 partygoers packed out KX Club last November for the Big Reunion, comprising Tin Mine legend Buenaventura and his peers from Scandals and Picadilly.
He was awarded a lifetime achievement award for his four decades of service and, critically, being the only remaining active DJ among them.
That’s because his retro nights are still a sight and sound to behold.
“I was lucky because 1980s music had so many categories. Reggae was coming up. British. Rock. New romantic.
“If a club says they’re doing a retro night, they will not play stuff like this.
“People will stay until the end of the night.”
The homage rang as true back then as it does now.
Buenaventura regaled his Tin Mine audience for almost 10 years with the newest energetic pop tunes including those coming out of England — The Communards, Duran Duran, to name a couple.
He rose to prominence with one simple mantra: “If they don’t like your music, they won’t come.”
People danced all night and he kept them drinking.
“If everybody is dancing, nobody is drinking, the outlet won’t make money,” he said, placing importance on serving the client for the sake of business.
At his peak, he was earning Tin Mine hundreds of thousands of ringgit in monthly takings.
He controlled the room, and would alert the manager to ready the staff as he would throw a bomb into the set and push the dancefloor to the bar.
He could bring them back when he was ready because, musically, his secret was original.
“I can mix 75 per cent of songs just by looking at the BPM (beats per minute) on the console. I don’t even need headphones.”
Rather than an in-depth knowledge of popular hits, it was pitch control and knowing when to release.
It was not, as he described some DJs’ tendencies, to “play just by listening”.
“Good DJs have a connection to the music.”
Needless to say, he had thoughts on the current state of the industry, consumed by EDM to the point of commercialisation.
“I seldom go to clubs. DJs play house, dance, trance but you ask them to play retro or reggae, they’ll die.
“These high-tempo songs with the beat so close together, anyone can mix.”
He pinpointed the value of courtesy, something today’s turntable tastemakers can be accused of missing.
That’s because his era was pre-Instagram, before YouTube and any fleeting triumph that may come with it.
“Nowadays, DJs think they’re superstars: ‘I play, you dance.’”
It’s hard to put an expiry date on his success because quality remained at the forefront.
But his determination to entertain was not without struggle.
On more than one occasion the money dried up.
Buenaventura sojourned across Asia throughout the 1990s, to Singapore, Hong Kong, Taiwan and eventually Cambodia in 2000.
He returned after a short venture opening his own pub there before the partners sold it.
The next four years were spent in Melaka where he lived purely for a lower cost of living.
He would repair sound systems to get by, a skill he had picked up in the Tin Mine days.
The club scene was not what it was in Kuala Lumpur, even though the days of Tin Mine, Scandals and Picadilly are long gone.
He later found his way back.
The recent Big Reunion saw his couple of sets added to a one-off party that was set to live in the memory of nostalgia-hungry clubbers who stayed until 5am.
His twice-a-week slot at Woosa, 3 Two Square in Petaling Jaya manages to keep the pub crowd in until the early hours.
It makes ends meet, along with some corporate functions and a bit of graphic design work on the side.
But the DJ booth is home.
“I enjoy playing music. It is my hobby, my passion. And it pays.”
Comments
Post a Comment