R.I.P.: DJ AM

When I heard that DJ AM had passed away, I immediately thought of the last time I saw him perform. It was in Las Vegas at Pure—where he’d held down a residency that helped to make the superclub such a success—and he was slated to serve deck duty while Travis Barker played the drums. The duo’s set was a semi-regular event that a publicist kept telling me I had to see to believe.

So, in my then-capacity as nightlife reporter for the alternative-weekly CityLife, I went with the full expectation that I would leave the club half-drunk and disappointed.

Long before that night, I’d grown tired of the stale Top 40 format that dominated most Vegas jocks’ playlists. Of course, I understood why they did it: Clubs like Pure were in the business of attracting bodies, and in order to do that in Sin City, you’ve got to appeal to both small-town accountants and big-city scenesters. Still, for me, a local who made his living going out three to four times a week, the music had gotten real old, real quick. There’s only so many times you can listen to “In Da Club” without going loco en la cabeza—I don’t care who’s playing live drums along to it.

So, when DJ AM slapped on his headphones and Barker plopped down behind his drums that night, I prepared for the worst.

Needless to say, my carefully crafted wall of cynicism crumbled the moment the two started playing. And something I’d never experienced at a Vegas club happened: The capacity crowd behaved as if they were at a concert, and not watching a DJ. Clubbers raised their hands toward the ceiling, screamed, cheered, hooted, and, yeah, danced. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought hometown heroes The Killers were on stage.
I won’t say it was magical—but it sure was fun.

Thing is, DJ AM was easy to hate. He played unabashedly commercial music for commercial properties; and he helped take mash-ups mainstream, spawning a clone army of bad imitators in the process. Along the way, he dated a few tabloid princesses, made a bunch of money, got famous, and, along with Barker, survived a plane crash.
But if there’s one thing that’s getting lost in the tasteless gossip whirling around his death like poison gas, it’s this: AM was a damn good DJ. He knew DJ-ing was just as much science as art, and that it was just as much about giving the crowd what it wanted as it was about taking them somewhere new. Hence his performances with Barker. And that, more than anything, is what I’ll remember.

Until next time,

Kevin Capp
Editor
Kcapp@testa.com