Mike Howard
Eyes And Ears' wild man goes just as nuts behind the turntables
By Vanessa Gochnour
More I Am A DJ
Mike Howard is better known for his tenure in the Denver punk scene—gracing stages in the bands Scott Baio Army, Call Sign Cobra, and currently Eyes And Ears—than he is for his weekly DJ gig at Sputnik, What We Do Is Secret. Maybe that’s because Howard doesn’t really consider himself a DJ in the conventional sense. He’s more like a guy who loves to share his record collection (not to mention copious amounts of booze) with everyone around him. And even though the name of his Thursday night event is swiped from a Germs song, Howard makes it a point to spin any genre that impresses him, from hip-hop to prog-rock to, of course, plenty of punk. Howard spoke with Decider about breaking up dance parties and clearing the room at closing time.
Decider: How seriously do you take being a DJ?
Mike Howard: I take being a DJ so unseriously that it’s ridiculous. I don’t consider myself a DJ. I consider myself a guy who has collected records since he was 14, and who somehow finagled getting $50 worth of free drinks a week out of it. I like to DJ, but I hate the term “DJ.” If a dance party starts for some reason, I will put an end to it very fast. I’ll be like, “Somehow people are dancing to something I’m playing. I’m going to put on Bad Brains. Let’s see if you can dance to this.”
D: Do you make a concerted effort to play songs that you normally wouldn’t hear at a bar or even on the radio?
MH: Yeah. I find it really annoying that you can turn on the radio, like 103.5 The Fox, and instantly name every single song they’re playing. Even if it’s something good, like Ted Nugent’s ‘”Free For All.” I like to play songs by The Who that people never hear. There are so many good songs off these old records that nobody plays because they’re stuck in this rotation.
D: How do people respond to that?
MH: Sometimes people don’t care at all, like it’s just background noise. But some people will be like, “Suicidal Tendencies!” and get stoked about it. And that’s what I like.
D: Has anyone ever given you a hard time for not being a so-called real DJ?
MH: Oh, yeah. I learned from Wesley Wayne—who is one of the best DJs in Denver—how to match beats and stuff like that. But I just don’t care about doing that. I’ll play Filth, and then I’ll play Chicago. Or I’ll play Subhumans, and then I’ll play Steely Dan right after. Last week a girl came up and asked, “Can you play David Bowie?” And so I played, “Hang On To Yourself.” She came back up and said, “Yeah, but don’t you have ‘Fame’?” And I don’t have Bowie’s greatest hits record or anything. I can tell it bums people out who only want to hear the hit songs. I feel like saying, “Man, you’ve got to go to LoDo for that shit. You’re in the wrong place on the wrong night.”
D: What are your favorite songs to play at closing time?
MH: Closing time is my favorite. I have a whole section of records that’s all weird shit. My number-one record at closing time is The Year of The Broncos from 1977, which was when the Broncos made their first attempt to win the Super Bowl. It’s a play-by-play record of their season. Wesley Willis is also good. I’ll play “Illinois State Police,” which is a song about drinking and driving. I have this Jerry Falwell record, which I like to play over Danzig—and then shut off Danzig after 20 seconds. Then I’ll yell, “Get the fuck out of the bar.” Someone showed me how to plug the headphones into the jack on the back of the board, so that I can talk into the headphones and announce things at the end of the night, like, “Thank you for visiting the world famous Sputnik Lounge! Be sure to over-tip your bartenders.” I was saying “Hillary Clinton in 2008” every Thursday until the beginning of October. I was like, “Come on Hillary. We can still do this.” And people in the bar were like, “What the fuck is going on? Who is this idiot?” [Laughs.]
Mike Howard: I take being a DJ so unseriously that it’s ridiculous. I don’t consider myself a DJ. I consider myself a guy who has collected records since he was 14, and who somehow finagled getting $50 worth of free drinks a week out of it. I like to DJ, but I hate the term “DJ.” If a dance party starts for some reason, I will put an end to it very fast. I’ll be like, “Somehow people are dancing to something I’m playing. I’m going to put on Bad Brains. Let’s see if you can dance to this.”
D: Do you make a concerted effort to play songs that you normally wouldn’t hear at a bar or even on the radio?
MH: Yeah. I find it really annoying that you can turn on the radio, like 103.5 The Fox, and instantly name every single song they’re playing. Even if it’s something good, like Ted Nugent’s ‘”Free For All.” I like to play songs by The Who that people never hear. There are so many good songs off these old records that nobody plays because they’re stuck in this rotation.
D: How do people respond to that?
MH: Sometimes people don’t care at all, like it’s just background noise. But some people will be like, “Suicidal Tendencies!” and get stoked about it. And that’s what I like.
D: Has anyone ever given you a hard time for not being a so-called real DJ?
MH: Oh, yeah. I learned from Wesley Wayne—who is one of the best DJs in Denver—how to match beats and stuff like that. But I just don’t care about doing that. I’ll play Filth, and then I’ll play Chicago. Or I’ll play Subhumans, and then I’ll play Steely Dan right after. Last week a girl came up and asked, “Can you play David Bowie?” And so I played, “Hang On To Yourself.” She came back up and said, “Yeah, but don’t you have ‘Fame’?” And I don’t have Bowie’s greatest hits record or anything. I can tell it bums people out who only want to hear the hit songs. I feel like saying, “Man, you’ve got to go to LoDo for that shit. You’re in the wrong place on the wrong night.”
D: What are your favorite songs to play at closing time?
MH: Closing time is my favorite. I have a whole section of records that’s all weird shit. My number-one record at closing time is The Year of The Broncos from 1977, which was when the Broncos made their first attempt to win the Super Bowl. It’s a play-by-play record of their season. Wesley Willis is also good. I’ll play “Illinois State Police,” which is a song about drinking and driving. I have this Jerry Falwell record, which I like to play over Danzig—and then shut off Danzig after 20 seconds. Then I’ll yell, “Get the fuck out of the bar.” Someone showed me how to plug the headphones into the jack on the back of the board, so that I can talk into the headphones and announce things at the end of the night, like, “Thank you for visiting the world famous Sputnik Lounge! Be sure to over-tip your bartenders.” I was saying “Hillary Clinton in 2008” every Thursday until the beginning of October. I was like, “Come on Hillary. We can still do this.” And people in the bar were like, “What the fuck is going on? Who is this idiot?” [Laughs.]
