Last night, I played what I know will be my final set as a DJ. After 46 years behind the decks—starting when I was just 16 and now at 62—I’ve finally hung up my headphones for good.
The venue was a club in London, Ontario, booked for the final day of London Pride. Sunday night, the weekend winding down, energy already dissipating into the work week ahead. Maybe it was fitting that my career would end not with a bang, but with a whimper.
When the Music Becomes Too Much
The first thing that hit me wasn’t nostalgia or emotion—it was the sheer, overwhelming volume. The bass was cranked to levels that seemed designed more for structural damage than dancing. Standing behind the booth, I felt those low frequencies reverberating through my ribcage, making my vision blur at moments. Is this my age talking? Maybe. But there were genuine moments where I felt dizzy, disconnected from my own body by the relentless thrum of sub-bass frequencies.
I’ve played thousands of gigs over nearly five decades. I’ve worked sound systems that could wake the dead and intimate venues where you could hear conversations over the music. But something about last night felt different—harsher, more punishing than energizing.
Distance and Disconnection
The crowd was small, which wasn’t entirely surprising for a Sunday. The stragglers from Pride weekend, the dedicated few who weren’t ready to let the celebration end. As a Latin DJ, I’m used to working with my regular Mexican crowd back in Toronto—we have a rhythm together, an understanding built over years of shared nights and familiar faces. Here, the audience was primarily Colombian, and while the music remained the same, the energy felt different. There’s a subtle shift in how different Latin communities respond to the same tracks, the way they move, when they peak. But I felt so separated from them, isolated in my DJ booth like I was performing behind glass. The connection that used to electrify me—that moment when the crowd and the music become one organism—just wasn’t there.
My performance was fine. Professional. I hit my marks, read the room as best I could, kept people moving. But “fine” feels like such a hollow word for what used to be my passion. There was no spark, no magic moment where everything clicked into place.
The Long Road to This Moment
I’ve been thinking about this gig for a long time before it happened. Not with anticipation, but with a kind of weary resignation. Deep down, I think I already knew it would be my last. Some part of me was hoping for one final transcendent night, one last reminder of why I fell in love with this craft in the first place.
Instead, what I got was confirmation.
Gratitude Without Regret
The people who hired me were genuinely lovely—friendly, accommodating, professional. They treated me well, and I hope they felt they got what they paid for. They deserve credit for putting together their event with care and respect for their performers. My “meh” feeling about the night has nothing to do with them and everything to do with where I am in my journey.
Forty-six years is a good run. I’ve seen disco transition to house, watched EDM explode and fragment into a thousand subgenres, witnessed the rise and fall of vinyl, CD, and now the streaming era. I’ve played basement parties and festival main stages, wedding receptions and underground raves.
I started when I was 16 with two turntables and a dream. I’m ending at 62 with tinnitus, tired feet, and a deep sense of completion.
The End of an Era
As I packed up my gear for the final time, coiling cables and closing flight cases, I felt something I didn’t expect: relief. Not sadness, not nostalgia—just a quiet, profound relief. Like setting down a weight I’d been carrying so long I’d forgotten it was there.
The young DJ who started this journey wouldn’t recognize the man who ended it. And that’s exactly as it should be.
The music will go on without me. New voices will emerge, new sounds will evolve, new connections will be made between artist and audience. My chapter in this story is complete, and I’m grateful it lasted as long as it did.
Time to find out what comes next.
