It Began On The Rooftop
Giving up was never an option
A rooftop in Bhamdoun, Lebanon, June 2008.
No bouncers, no lists, no bar.
Just Christmas lights, Fantasia chips, a stereo with two speakers.
All the kids from the block were ready for the rendezvous. 15 or 20, total.
Mohammad had a playlist ready for the occasion. All the hits mixed into a track that would get everyone dancing. T-Pain’s Low, David Guetta’s Love is Gone, Akon’s Belly dancer. At 17, he was the oldest in the crowd. People were waiting for the music to start by the Fantasia bowls.
He was very proud of the track.
Sure, the transitions were far from being smooth. They were just a couple of seconds of confused, intertwined lyrics but they went unnoticed. The kids were on the rooftop to have a good time. They were some that were just 11 years old. No one was expecting a club-level experience, nor demanded one. These meetups were the best way to spend summer.
Dancing.
Carelessly.
No worries, no expectations.
Mohammad was not a DJ but he got nods of approval. He was the guy that made the music.
He was also the guy running back to the laptop, clicking next, whenever the speakers went silent. At first, his jogs did not annoy him. Sure, it interrupted the dancing but no one complained. There was no manager to be called over. No bills to refuse to pay. No online platform to complain about this minor interruption. Just teenagers waiting for the next track. Patiently. On their improvised dancefloor. Chatting, snacking or still jamming to the previous tune.
Once the lyrics poured out of the speakers again, Mohammad was hailed as the guy that made the kids dance.
During the week, he was the guy that listened to DJs and radio shows thinking that he could never be this good.
Why should he improve anyway?
No one asked him to set up the playlist and mix the tracks. There were no charges at the door, no refunds. He did not have a customer care hotline with people suggesting he should raise his own bar a bit higher. What good could come out of doing better mixes?
None.
He did it anyway, one year later.
He came across a YouTube video, an introduction to how to count and match beats. And that was it. He was the guy who wanted to learn how to do “this” properly.
Once he got the hang of it, he became the guy that got house party gigs. He would be watching people dance while congratulating himself; he had unlocked a new level. He was saving money for gear and was patiently waiting for something to pull him out of his comfort zone.
The wake-up call was a video of a DJ who goes by the name of Eskei83. It was 2013 and he had a 3style set that was so good it made Mohammad’s jaw drop.
He was now the guy that wanted to meet a 3style DJ and become one, in a far-fetched optimistic fantasy.
He needed several things for that.
Determination.
Time.
Practice.
More practice.
And four years.
In 2017, Mohammad is DJ Beats.
He’s also Lebanon’s Red Bull 3style Champion.
And as if this was not enough, one of the judges of the competition was Eskei83 himself.
The guy who made the music on a Bhamdoun rooftop had made it.
