Wisdom from Mojo
A Detroit radio DJ's odd but impactful words, and a thank-you to terrestrial radio
Listen to the mixtape that accompanies this post here.
Mojo has been important to me since I was about ten, growing up just outside Detroit — you’ve heard of 8 Mile; our tiny working-class pre-gentrification home was at the corner of 13 Mile and Woodward Avenue, the big diagonal thoroughfare where the Woodward Dream Cruise is held.
At first, for the ‘tween years, the difficult middle school years, we’d laugh at the strange music he played and we’d wonder about the things he said. I remember distinctly taking the trash out one night, listening to Mojo on my Walkman.
“If you ever feel like you’re at the end of your rope, tie a knot — just keep hanging on.”
I thought that was a silly thing to say at the time. But those words have stuck with me and have helped me through some tough days.
Once in high school, though, knowing about Mojo and his sometime collaborator the Wizard (Jeff Mills) opened up a world of musical discovery for me. I’d hear Kraftwerk, Steely Dan, Prince, and the B-52’s in the same set. Wizard would blow my mind over and over again with his DJ skills and got me interested in electronic music. Then I discovered the great WDET; Alan Oldham, Liz Copeland, Mike Halloran.
I’d put on the New Dance Show after school to listen to Leon Purse and Unknown DJ and Jesse The Body (and to giggle at the goofy vampire guy, and to wonder about that one white guy that always seemed to be on).
Those many influential artists that Mojo, and later T-1000 and Ann Delisi and other great Detroit DJs hipped me to became my social engagement arsenal, equipping me to have conversations with other weirdos I’d detect with my muso-dar, scoping out a pin on a jacket or a reference in someone’s ‘fit, or just detecting a vibe.
My muso-dar today remains strong. I can smell a musician. Figuratively. (Drummers are usually the only ones you really can smell literally.) If it weren’t for this, I’d really have zero friends. All my closest friends are musicians (whether they know it or not).
I started producing music on my Amiga 500 in 1992. I was 15, sitting in my parents’ living room, blowing out my dad’s hi-fi speakers with my mistakes, winging it completely with extreme 1992 technical constraints. I think I used FastTracker and a DSS-8.
In 1993, Alan Oldham played one of my tracks on WDET. I’d sent him a cassette and misgenred it as “acid house,” not knowing any better; really it was probably closer to Front 242 EBM than anything else. He said it was “out the gates.” This changed my life too — I’ve been producing ever since because of that encouragement.
Terrestrial radio introduced to me the things that are currently most important to me, culturally, and the discipline of DJing has become a huge part of my life. I started playing parties in Detroit while at Michigan State and have only taken short hiatuses (hiati?).
Later on, I discovered and fell in love with UK pirate radio (old and new), and then on 9/11, I discovered WFMU when trying to get more news about the situation. WFMU is my heart to this day.
So, thank you, terrestrial radio and thank you, all you great disk jockeys. As I try in mid-life to escape the rat race and make this effort to be a “creator” professionally, all of these experiences buoy and inspire me. None of these people made a ton of money, but they made such an impact in people’s lives.
I transcribed this amazing clip of Mojo today.
This year, during the Season of Trumpageddon, losing my job, my parents, and my partner of five years has put me in a tough emotional and logistical spot.
But Mojo, I tied that knot. I’m going to be fine.
Hang in there.
Love,
DJIC
P.S. Hit me up to book me for your party or event!
It occurred to me today that I'd forgotten to include the WDET DJ whose taste probably influenced mine the most, Ralph Valdez. Love you, too, Ralph Valdez.
[Music bed: Jimi Hendrix]
We had a close call with that bridge.
Traffic is moving underground and then it's coming up again, as if they're going under a tunnel of sorts.
Oh, I know it’s wild!
Well, we're just talking to you. I hope this is not freaking you out.
What did you do today?
Did you have a nice day?
Did you make it any better? Anybody make you mad? How did you handle it? Were you cool? See, you have to always be cool, because if you're not cool, the situation gets out of hand.
How many people out there helped someone today? Did you give somebody a ride? Did you give them some good advice?
Were you a good example? Did you call your mother? How nice.
Did you call your father?
Mm-hmm. You should keep in touch more.
Oh yeah, I hear you — and I believe you hear me.
How do you feel right now? Let's take the time that we have left in this day and make the best of it. If you're interested.
Life is life, you know. It's not always happy. It's not always sad. You're not always crying and you're not always laughing.
You're not always praying.
You're not always bumming.
You're not always giving.
You're not always receiving.
[Music bed: helicopter SFX]
Life is — it's life. You have to give some. You have to take some. You can't have it all. You never can have it all. Maybe for a short time you think you have it all. Then you wind up with much less.
Life is give and take. Life is understanding. It's a it's an ongoing communication process that must happen in order for people to get along.
If you do not like confrontations, you have to have communication.
You don't always like bumping into something. You have to find out where it is. You know, what's happening with it.
[Explosions]
You don't always like bumping into your dad or to your mom. You have to find out where she is, what's happening with her. If you don't always like bumping into your wife, you have to find out where she is and what's happening to her. If you don't always like bumping into your husband, you have to find out where he is and what's happening with him. If you don't always like bumping into your girlfriend, you have to find out where she is. If you don't always like bumping into your boyfriend, you have to find out where he is.
[Whales]
If you don't like bumping into your roommate, you have to find out uh what's happening with them to find out what's happening. You have to find out whether you are, you know, what level of communication you're on. And you have to communicate.
If you don't like bumping into things — because when there's no communication, there's confrontation.
I'm sure that Earth is aware of this already. But as we fly over you in the Mothership, we're just releasin’ cosmic vibrations in the air.
And if it feels good to you, try it on. But if you find it repugnant, just remember you have found it.
You found out where it is.
So now you can make a decision based on where it is. We've communicated.
[Music swells]
I know who you are.
Do you know who I am?
— The Electrifying Mojo