Margaret Noble

Only one decent club played house music in San Diego back in 1999.

Once a week, a red-lit, tinsel-covered drag restaurant called Lips transformed for a night called Lipgloss. On these Saturday nights, makeup-encrusted queens shared the dancefloor with the city's handful of house heads. As a new DJ, I would go to these nights and regularly harass Luis, the diminutive bleached-blond promoter, for a chance to spin. The tragically hip Luis would feed me a line, promising that one of these days they would have a diva night and I could open for a major female talent.

That never happened, but Luis did bring in Lipgloss' first female DJ soon thereafter, Colette from Chicago. Packed into the dancefloor between grinding transsexuals and sunglass-wearing poseurs, I could make out a bopping blonde head with a microphone headpiece. Everyone waited to see what this demure performer would do, with such focus in the purple whites of her eyes. Colette charged the turntables weaving her voice in live over a tightly mixed set. Seductive lines designed to entice the crowd instead created a brief moment of bewilderment that then gave way to enthusiastic acceptance and bodies snapped into dance motion. She continued to work the crowd with wacky snippets of vocals that bounced around the bass rhythms.

In the heat of Colette's set, I sought out Luis on a quest for retribution. Curtly, I asked for his acknowledgement that right at that moment Colette, a female, was jamming. But instead of vindication, all I got was a dismissive smirk, and two words chalking up her appeal. "Eye candy," he said.

The DJ I saw that night is now one of the most high-profile DJs in the country. Along with the equally formidable Heather, Dayhota and Lady D, Colette founded a collective called Superjane in their early days of DJing. These turntable wizards were already heavyweights in my mind after they made the cover of the music magazine XLR8R. Because of their precedence, and Chicago's prolific house-music scene (which, for house DJs, is like LA for actors) I had already made the decision to move to Chicago. I will never forget Luis' dismissive comment about Colette; it fueled me to get the hell out of San Diego.

Since the 1997 formation of Superjane, each member has successfully charged her individual career. Currently, in her new Los Angeles home, Colette Marino co-hosts a syndicated radio show called Maximum Rotation. Heather Robinson tours extensively around the world. In fact, her bookings were so jam-packed in Europe this month that I was unable to even interview her by email. Darlene Jackson, aka Lady D, is a full-time producer and touring DJ, and Shannon Lalongo, billed as Dayhota (which spells DJ in Spanish), does regular stints in Canada and the U.S. and has collaborated in the studio with the likes of Sombionx. Her first release arrives in the next couple of months on Chicago's Q Studios label. Together, this team of talent plans to unite for a relaunch of Superjane that will include a new website, tour, collective CD and possibly even a clothing line.

The success of Superjane has set off a new wave of activity centered around all-female DJ nights. There are at least five all-female DJ nights in Chicago. (I spin at four and helped start another.) On Wednesdays, Lava Lounge presents Flirt; Janel Roland rotates her event, Ladies First, on Saturday nights; while Bar 3 presents a female DJ night called Blush. Even the highly regarded house promoter Music 101 has begun Sirens every first Thursday of the month at Harry's Velvet Room.

It's been about seven years since Superjane started throwing parties to get the word out about their talents and to just have somewhere to spin. "We started Superjane so people could get used to the idea of seeing women play records all night," says Colette. She estimates that when she started DJing more than seven years ago, there was probably one female DJ for every hundred male DJs. And those women had trouble getting booked. Colette remembers repeatedly hearing "but you're a girl" every time she told someone she was a DJ.

Later, being female landed her and her comrades more gigs. "At the beginning I did get work because I was a girl," says Colette, "but I used all those opportunities to show that what I did wasn't a gimmick." Lady D agrees that people capitalized on her gender early in her career. These days, this phenomenon has done wonders for the lady DJs of Chicago. Although once offended that Luis of Lipgloss would only book me for a "diva night," I am now getting more gigs then I had ever dreamed thanks to the idea.

However, female-focused nights have also set off a debate in the DJ community. After getting press in a local publication for one of these nights, I have received hostile emails from disgruntled male DJs who feel that they are losing opportunities for the wrong reasons. This concern has spurned objections about the credibility of talent booked at nights segregated by gender. With Superjane relaunching and female-DJ-focused events seemingly trumping male nights, the question looms larger than ever: Is this nightclub trend affirmative action or just a marketing ploy?

Although the Superjane DJs have advanced their careers thanks to notoriety as a female collective, they express frustration with this label. In the process of writing this article there was a bit of trouble getting them to talk. After submitting questions not only about their careers but also about their experiences being DJs who are female, I received a phone call from Colette. Frustrated by the gender-focused questions, Colette told me "that it had become tiresome to always be interviewed with the focus on gender rather than music. I am not interested in gender when it comes to DJing, I'm producing the same result as any man does behind the decks."

At the new Logan Square club Tini Martini, the promoter behind a Saturday night DJ showcase believes it is essential to have at least one woman play during the course of the evening. Downstairs in the small cement basement of this off-the-beaten-path underground club, the likes of Traxx, Green Velvet--and tonight Lady D--take turns at the turntables. Lady D steps to the decks with her game face on. Although petite, Lady D is a stern and focused fireball, almost mean-looking when she drops her first track. Her thundering bass-lines bring the room's energy up a notch. This is something that only a seasoned Chicago DJ could bring to the dancefloor--Lady D is clearly where she is now on the shoulders of talent, not gender.

Nevertheless, Lady D supports the idea of specialized groups leveling the playing field within the club community. "With the proliferation of DJs (male and female), I think it is especially hard for a woman DJ to not get the eye-roll when she announces that she is yet another female DJ," says Lady D. She adds, "I sincerely hope people don't think they have to justify their right to organize and find resources. This is America, right?" However, in an informal email poll I conducted of fifty Chicago DJs of both genders, nearly 70 percent agreed that female DJs do not need theme nights to get a chance to spin.

At a Music 101 house party, I run into Dayhota at 4am, flocked by men and women alike who have cornered her at the bar. Some clubbers just want to say hello, while certain fellows are trying to get her digits. Despite her established rock-star DJ status, she gives everyone time with chummy laughs, her long, wild hair perfectly matching her sassy personality. We chat about details for our interview just before she gets swept away to a private party. The next day, Dayhota and I meet at 3pm--for breakfast. Expecting her to be worn out, I am greeted instead by the same smiling, fresh-faced star I saw in the wee hours the night before.

Dayhota expresses frustration with the rampant contradictions female DJs experience. While gender is often a successful tool to get the gig, she says, this is often counterproductive in establishing artistic credibility. Dayhota agrees that the label "female DJ" seems to cause people to think that you can't play. She continues that the common perception is "that you got the gig because you are hot." Dayhota adds that Heather is now extremely reluctant to be booked at female-segregated parties because she has concerns that the party's DJ lineup will be all gimmick and no talent.

Female sexuality still drives most of the marketing material for club nights, regardless of the DJ's gender. Shiny cleavage wrapped in vinyl on Barbie-doll cartoon bodies is a fast and easy sell. Playboy is soon launching a pictorial on "spinners," which features a completely nude spread of ten stripper-hot lady DJs. Another famous and worldwide-booked female DJ named Portia Surreal conquered the scene with one gimmick, spinning topless. On her website, you'll find a picture of her on her back, knees up, topless and pinching her nipple.

The Superjane team members differ on when a woman has gone too far in using sexuality to market herself as a DJ. For Colette, posing naked is too compromising. But Lady D says that she would have no problem posing for Playboy, but she would be more excited if Playgirl did a male DJ spread. As for the infamous Portia Surreal, "I don't want to player-hate," says Dayhota, but "my first impulse is to think that this DJ is masking the fact that she can't beat match. As a musician, a campaign like this says nothing about her music. There is a part of me that thinks it just isn't fair that a DJ like her is so successful when I have been working so hard." I ask Dayhota how she responds when male DJs complain that it isn't fair that woman DJs are able to get gigs merely based on their gender. "I think that this is crap. The chances are that female DJs might get a little more at first but these gigs aren't going to pay a ton. I think both genders know how hard it is to get on top even with hard work."

In September, I participated in an underground DJ battle at a loft on Chicago Avenue. In a dirty dungeon filled with smoke and wet with cocktails, four sets of battling DJs battled against each other in a crowd-response contest. With each new contest, competitors beaded more sweat while the audience became increasingly more hostile towards the losers. But I was in the first and slightly more lighthearted of the DJ battles, pitted against another female DJ and also a Chicago house favorite, Shaka23. I lost miserably, but still had a ton of fun. However, the question burning in both our minds was: why were the competing DJ categories segregated by gender? For DJing, the skills required are neither aided nor damaged by sex--this isn't tackle football. Shaka23 and I were both able to just as easily put a record on the turntables as our male counterparts.

Why care about the gender battle? Like boy bands, female DJ groups have media appeal, and everyone is fighting to be noticed. But in the underground, and in the long run, appearance has never been a decisive factor in determining which DJs are killing it. Some of the ugliest mugs are world-class DJs today. In Chicago, anyone has the potential to crush it on the decks.

Superjane performs together November 26 at Smart Bar, 3730 North Clark, (773)459-0203.

(2003-11-19)

Also by Margaret Noble

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