I Am A DJ: Segue
Want some advice from a pro? Don't forget those headphones.
Those hoping to skank around a bar to “I Shot The Sheriff” may want to avoid The Thin Man on Sunday night; Segue doesn’t spin Bob Marley. Instead, the Denver-based DJ and his partner-in-echo DJ Uplifter keep their riddims rare and drenched in reverb on the first Sunday of each month, when their Dub Palace program for KGNU is broadcast live from the popular uptown watering hole. The duo selects and seamlessly blends deep ’70s reggae and modern dubstep with the occasional Afrobeat banger or comedy snippet. Segue—Brett Ericson by day—also co-hosts KGNU’s Afternoon Sound Alternative and Dusty Grooves programs on KGNU, but Dub Palace is where he gets to mix it up before a live audience. Segue spoke with Decider about his DJing philosophy, how not to plan a set, and the lost Jimmie Walker/Barack Obama connection.
Decider: What goes into planning a Dub Palace set?
Segue: I don’t actually plan sets. I try to envision the crowd or the setting, and I try not to bring any records I’ve played before. But I don’t really plan anything out. For the most part, I go with the flow. You can never plan the perfect party.
D: What’s the strangest record you’ve played lately?
S: I recently played this Jimmie Walker comedy album from 1975 [Dyn-O-Mite!]. It starts out [adopts Jimmie Walker voice], “The other day a black man got arrested for tax evasion. You know, that’s a new one for us,” and his audience laughs. Then he says, “You know what, though? In the near future, we’re gonna have a black president!” I put an instrumental behind it, and it was perfect. He goes on to talk about the new black president, and how he’s gonna roll up to the White House in his El Dorado, wearing a silk suit. I thought it was fitting, for obvious reasons.
D: Who is an artist you’d never dare play live?
S: You’ll never hear me play Britney Spears. You’ll never hear any Lindsay Lohan. I learned a long time ago that it’s not worth it for me to stay up on the hot new music. I just go buy what I like, and I hope that other people like it when I play it. You give the crowd one “Apple bottom jeans, boots with the fur,” and the floodgates open.
D: Vinyl or laptops?
S: Vinyl, for sure. Strictly.
D: Why?
S: Basically because I have about 8,000 records, which I buy from thrift stores and garage sales. But I now actually have two laptops, and I bought this Torque software where you can use fake records to manipulate the mp3 files from your hard drive. So I’ve invested in that, but I have yet to get it going. I think using technology isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but for now I’m all vinyl.
D: What was your most epic record find?
S: When I worked at Twist & Shout, one of our longtime customers would come in and buy great CDs every day: jazz, soul, Afrobeat, and funk. I didn’t know he owned records. Turns out he was collecting on CD what he already had on vinyl. So he came in one day and sold all his records, ten crates of Albert Ayler and Sun Ra. He had—I kid you not—ten or eleven Fela Kuti records. I didn’t steal them, but I definitely put them aside for myself. I think that if the other employees had known what I did, they’d be pissed. That was an epic score.
D: What was your worst DJing experience?
S: This was back at the beginning stages of my DJing, around ’94. I was living up in Humboldt, California, going to college, and my roommate was a club promoter. I had just gotten DJ equipment, and he said, “We could use a DJ for Thursday nights.” The first week went fine. The second was okay. And then the third week—after the publicity came out that there was actually hip-hop, funk, and soul being played at this little bar—massive amounts of people came. It was great. But I had forgotten my headphones. I couldn’t leave to go get them because there were too many people there, and I obviously didn’t show up with enough time to troubleshoot. So I was pretty much stuck. There we were with this nice thing going, and then I had to DJ a whole night without headphones. I don’t know if you’ve ever tried that, but it’s almost impossible. You just let one song end, and then start the next. Not too conducive to a club crowd. The next week, it wasn’t even a tenth of the crowd that had been there before. So to all you DJs out there: Remember your headphones.
Segue: I don’t actually plan sets. I try to envision the crowd or the setting, and I try not to bring any records I’ve played before. But I don’t really plan anything out. For the most part, I go with the flow. You can never plan the perfect party.
D: What’s the strangest record you’ve played lately?
S: I recently played this Jimmie Walker comedy album from 1975 [Dyn-O-Mite!]. It starts out [adopts Jimmie Walker voice], “The other day a black man got arrested for tax evasion. You know, that’s a new one for us,” and his audience laughs. Then he says, “You know what, though? In the near future, we’re gonna have a black president!” I put an instrumental behind it, and it was perfect. He goes on to talk about the new black president, and how he’s gonna roll up to the White House in his El Dorado, wearing a silk suit. I thought it was fitting, for obvious reasons.
D: Who is an artist you’d never dare play live?
S: You’ll never hear me play Britney Spears. You’ll never hear any Lindsay Lohan. I learned a long time ago that it’s not worth it for me to stay up on the hot new music. I just go buy what I like, and I hope that other people like it when I play it. You give the crowd one “Apple bottom jeans, boots with the fur,” and the floodgates open.
D: Vinyl or laptops?
S: Vinyl, for sure. Strictly.
D: Why?
S: Basically because I have about 8,000 records, which I buy from thrift stores and garage sales. But I now actually have two laptops, and I bought this Torque software where you can use fake records to manipulate the mp3 files from your hard drive. So I’ve invested in that, but I have yet to get it going. I think using technology isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but for now I’m all vinyl.
D: What was your most epic record find?
S: When I worked at Twist & Shout, one of our longtime customers would come in and buy great CDs every day: jazz, soul, Afrobeat, and funk. I didn’t know he owned records. Turns out he was collecting on CD what he already had on vinyl. So he came in one day and sold all his records, ten crates of Albert Ayler and Sun Ra. He had—I kid you not—ten or eleven Fela Kuti records. I didn’t steal them, but I definitely put them aside for myself. I think that if the other employees had known what I did, they’d be pissed. That was an epic score.
D: What was your worst DJing experience?
S: This was back at the beginning stages of my DJing, around ’94. I was living up in Humboldt, California, going to college, and my roommate was a club promoter. I had just gotten DJ equipment, and he said, “We could use a DJ for Thursday nights.” The first week went fine. The second was okay. And then the third week—after the publicity came out that there was actually hip-hop, funk, and soul being played at this little bar—massive amounts of people came. It was great. But I had forgotten my headphones. I couldn’t leave to go get them because there were too many people there, and I obviously didn’t show up with enough time to troubleshoot. So I was pretty much stuck. There we were with this nice thing going, and then I had to DJ a whole night without headphones. I don’t know if you’ve ever tried that, but it’s almost impossible. You just let one song end, and then start the next. Not too conducive to a club crowd. The next week, it wasn’t even a tenth of the crowd that had been there before. So to all you DJs out there: Remember your headphones.
