Despite my best efforts to convince the world otherwise, I am, surprisingly, not a superstar DJ. These hands were made for scratchin’, but do you think I could find someone who’d let this novice loose on their vinyl collection? Nope.
But I went to bed last night with a new core memory unlocked — that I had dropped a banging mix at the decks, beat-matched and all, that the faders had been at my fingertips, and that I had brought a taste of Balearic sunshine to gloomy London for a short few minutes.
