A Problem That I Can’t Fix
by Wrongtom
Back in April — which now seems like a lifetime ago — Mixmag announced it would be pausing it’s print run for three months. This week they extended this hiatus “until clubs and festivals return properly in 2021”. Whilst their digital platform is still going strong, I can’t help but feel sad whenever an institution like Mixmag loses it’s physical presence. Over 3 decades of monthly magazines, now potentially down the pan thanks to this rotten pox.
Ok, let’s set the way-back machine to March 2006. I was in the throng of my tenure with indie pop stars Hard-Fi, opening shows for them with a 4 deck routine in which I’d mix up anything and everything from Chicago house to baile-funk, dub to electro, in fact pretty much whatever I liked. Main man Richard Archer liked the idea of sharing music which their fans wouldn’t normally get to hear, not unlike The Clash in their heyday with Don Letts and DJ Scratchy playing obscure records, or the infamous New York gigs where angry punks booed support act Grandmaster Flash & The Furious 5.
I’m not ashamed to admit I enraged the crowd a few times myself. In Manchester, after a routine which featured a downbeat section using a Hard-Fi piano sample, the drums from ‘My Doorbell’ by White Stripes and a Five Deez a capella, I received an almost full house of booing when Rich called out “BIG UP DJ WRONGTOM!” A big downer. I returned the next night with 30 minutes of Manchester classics and all was well again.
On another occasion I had a 20 minute slot to fill between support bands which I dedicated to Prince. “STOP PLAYING PRINCE, YOU POOF” one angry pink-faced man shouted after I’d subjected the poor dear to at least 15 minutes of androgynous electro-funk. I continued regardless. Mostly the audiences were great though. I really liked my job.
Back to March ’06, and I got a call from Hard-Fi’s publicist. I think the band were overseas somewhere, and a Mixmag feature had been slated for the cover of their June issue. The mag had quickly cottoned on to the dance influences which underpinned a lot of their debut LP, and they were invited to put together one of their hallowed covermount mix CDs. The problem, as ever, was a lack of time, and Hard-Fi were out of town.
Enter the tour DJ.
If you take a close look at the artwork, it states “chosen by the band — mixed by tour DJ Wrongtom”. True, I was sent a list of tracks Hard-Fi wanted, but through a nail-biting back-n-forth between myself, Mixmag and various labels, it soon became clear that most of this list was a no-go. No Smiths, no Clash, not even ‘It’s Alright’ by Sterling Void! Looking at the tracklist now, I think the only 3 which made it through were the Billy Bragg opener, the Danger Mouse track and Joe Smooth’s ‘Promised Land’ as the big finale, and the latter almost didn’t happen.
On our Autumn/Winter tour at the end of 2005, I’d taken to using the piano-pella of The Style Council’s ‘Promised Land’ for a big finale. This was their last single, Polydor had balked at a whole LP of house and garage. Weller and Talbot had taken Joe Smooth’s skeletal synths and layered up vocals and a muscular piano, turning it into rousing gospel-house. I love it, and had loads of fun mixing it up with some LCD Soundsystem drums. I’m not sure the sentiment was shared by Weller who appeared in the stairwell at The Astoria moments after I’d dropped it and left the stage. A frosty reception. Anyway, Rich and I especially loved the original version and it seemed like the perfect closing tune for the CD. Alas, no one knew how to license it.
It seemed hopeless. If the world’s biggest dance music and club culture magazine couldn’t track down Joe Smooth, then what chance did I have. “Leave it with me” I told them as I fruitlessly tapped his name into Google.
These were the Myspace days when artists had just begun to directly engage with their audience, or paid someone else to engage with them, or had no clue someone from their label or management was engaging with them, sending out handmade mix CDs in their name, mix CDs made by someone else entirely. I didn’t expect to find the legend but took a look at his page… snaps of Joe in his studio, Joe with some platinum records, Joe walking his dog. It had to be him. I dropped him a polite message and figured I’d never get a response.
It turned out Joe was not only up for us using the track, he was at that very moment in London, meeting someone in Soho. He sent me his mobile number. I freaked out a bit. I love that guy.
So, with ‘Promised Land’ in the bag, I got to work on a mix which would sufficiently represent the band, using the dearth of tracks we could license. I pooled my contacts via the promos I’d been receiving, and figured I could do a lot worse than approach it as a showcase of what I’d been doing behind the decks before the band came on. The Kills, Spank Rock, Roots Manuva and Justice all green-lit.
The next problem was I’d got into the habit of quick-mixing everything. I was only allowed 15 tracks, one of those was a Hard-Fi a capella, and I had to somehow stretch this CD out to an hour. The first version I delivered was barely 40 minutes. Mixmag’s editor Andrew Harrison pleaded with me to elongate it, so I was back at the decks and fighting my instincts to chop and change every couple of minutes. If you wondered why it features all 8 minutes of Eek-A-Mouse’s ‘Wa Do Dem’ 12” well, now you know.
You can listen to the entire Hometown Hifi mix over on Mixcloud.
Listening back, it sounds a little rushed. The ‘Hard To Beat’ a capella feels shoe-horned in. I’m still more than happy with Billy Bragg in the mix with The Nextmen as the intro though, and the Roots Manuva/Banana Klan tracks are a nice little nod in the direction my career would take a couple of years later. I tried to slip a bit of Diplo’s ‘Epistemology Suite’ into the mix, Big Dada were happy to oblige but I think someone at Mixmag thought it was a bit weird. A shame because ‘Like Cats’ and ‘You’re Enron’ still sound amazing.
An important lesson I should’ve learned here was not to make flippant jokes during interviews. I sat down for a chat with Mixmag’s editor-at-large Ralph Moore who posed the question “how would you describe yourself?” Hell, I didn’t know. I rarely got quizzed about anything at the time beyond “where’s Rich?” so I jovially replied “well, I’ve been described as the Don Letts of Hard-Fi” before attempting to actually answer the question. The result? The blurb next to my photo read “Wrongtom describes himself as the Don Letts of Hard-Fi”!
The mag and CD went to print in April. In May we had a sold out run of 5 nights at Brixton Academy where we pretty much moved in for the week. Mick Jones was there most days — we had a good chat over a cup of tea about the late great beatboxer Sipho — and Billy Bragg supported every night. I considered asking if he fancied performing my reworked version of ‘A New England’ during one of my sets, but it was integral to his routine so I left it. We had a good chat about Tiramisu one night though. Tea and tiramisu, a perfect week.
I continued using The Style Council’s ‘Promised Land’ at the end of my routine, and it was starting to get a response, as if regulars knew it was the last stretch before the band came on. One night I noticed a couple of shirtless ravers up on their mate’s shoulders, hands in the air for the big finale, glow sticks in hand. Probably the first time I’d played in front of almost 5000 people and thought “not everyone here hates me!”
I think Mixmag hit the shelves that week, or soon after. I almost felt like a somebody. I’d soon get a call from a producer at the BBC auditioning presenters for their In New DJs We Trust slot. She’d caught one of my sets at Brixton and thought I might fit the bill. Two demo shows later I was sure I’d got the gig. We’d discussed segments like “Tour Bus Tales” and they encouraged my schtick as a bit of a gossip when it came to other bands. I think the demo featured a tale about Amy Winehouse, wrecked in a restaurant and making a scene with her boyfriend. It all seemed laughable at the time. Hindsight can be horrible.
My moment at Radio 1 never happened. If memory serves, In New DJs We Trust wound up calling back Plastician who’d already been presenting a few shows when it was called The Residency. Soon after, they gave Toddla T a shot at the top. I probably sound bitter, but I figured I wasn’t ready, and I have no beef with those guys. All’s fair in love and garage. Had I got the job, however, I may not have gone so far down the dub route, I might be playing more commercial sets, and I’d probably own my own house now.
Nope, I’m not bitter, I’m furious!
