Showcase Nights for Aspiring DJs

The DJ rules the nightclub. Clubbers come, pupils fully dilated, looking for a fix, and the DJ controls the supply. Not even the musicians who produce the songs that fill the DJ's record bins can compare to the celebrity of the New York City disc jockey. Studio 54 once barred Chic's Nile Rodgers at its velvet ropes, banishing him to the curb, where he very well may have heard the DJs spinning Chic records inside.

But where the DJ-as-deity concept thrives, it can be difficult for aspiring DJs to get their shot. Regardless of how good you've gotten by practicing at home, unless you have major connections it's hard to make your way into a DJ booth and actually work with a live crowd.

Last fall, Ice Bar resident DJ Kirk Benshoff (aka Fresh Eggs) opened a night for DJs discouraged by club exclusivity. Benshoff got his own big break a year and a half ago, when Noah Max opened the Tribeca spot. Max asked Benshoff and his friend Eric Haiser (aka Sweet Daddy) to be his Saturday night DJs after being impressed by some sets they did at a Soho bar where he used to bartend.

Benshoff, a web designer by day, realized he works with several talented amateur DJs who, despite their considerable skills, never get to play for live audiences. He came up with an open-decks night called Bedroom DJs.

"You can't just throw your turntable over your shoulder like a guitar and go into town and play with somebody," Benshoff says. "I have friends I work with who are brilliant DJs, but when I asked why they don't play out, they said there just isn't anywhere they can. So BDJ night is really good for people like that."

BDJ night is held on the first and third Wednesdays of the month. Though he isn't overly choosy, Benshoff requires that potential DJs submit an MP3 or mix tape before he gives them a shot at the decks. Every DJ gets at least 60 minutes' worth of records to play. On a good night, most of the seats and couches in the narrow space (which Max and his brother did up in a hand-sculpted arctic ice-cavern motif) are occupied by stylish-looking characters. The DJs take turns spinning one-hour sets tucked up in one of those icy-white walls, in a small booth overlooking the (white) glass-topped bar, with its (white) ashtrays and bowls of (white) pumpkin seeds, the bottles of liquor glowing neon blue in the loungey accent lighting.

Although Ice Bar is an $8-a-drink establishment, it still reflects Max's militantly unpretentious philosophy. "We don't have the velvet rope bullshit," Max says. "You gotta be a big asshole to make your customers wait in line outside just to be given attitude when you finally do get to the door. They pay our salary." So lone hipsters in t-shirts and jeans drink side by side with yuppie couples sipping Chardonnay and checking appointments on their Palm VIIx's. It's the perfect home for a night of dance music spun by unknown office worker-DJs.

One of the coolest by-products of BDJ night is the musical diversity that results. If you don't like the house music DJ Will Power is playing, wait an hour for him to hand off to DJ Milk Money, whose predominantly breakbeat set gets warmed up with a little Gang Starr before slithering into the Pink Panther theme and then banging into jazzy drum and bass. If you're not into dancefloor music at all, DJ Matt Spinks' selections range from Aphex Twin and Autechre to Godspeed You Black Emperor! and Throbbing Gristle.

At the start of this year, Benshoff retooled the evening a bit. The first Wednesday of the month still features DJs who have sent in demos, but for the third Wednesday Benshoff has handed the reins over to DJ and musician Tara Rodgers (aka Analog Tara), editor and publisher of the women-in-electronic-music webzine Pink Noises (pinknoises.com). Rodgers' interest in providing a vehicle for women DJs fits nicely with BDJ night's low-key accessibility. While some of the DJs who will spin on Pink Noises' nights are already established names?like Rising Bar's resident DJ, Jupe?the hope is to attract talented newcomers as well.

"A lot of women DJs and producers are still not recognized for their skills," Rodgers says. "It's more for how they look, and that's really annoying. It doesn't necessarily prevent people from doing it, but it does perpetuate the stereotypes."

Many of these BDJ jocks may never spin outside of this open-decks forum?though last fall one Midtown club promoter asked the funk and hiphop DJ Cana to spin at his club after hearing her BDJ set. If nothing else, it helps to build the resume.

"Hey, now I've played in New York City," Milk Money says with a shrug after his set, "which is something to say, ya know?"