up in the Hill, where she had worked recently, passed her name to the club manager. Good fortune was finally coming her way and soon she would be living in the hall of fame.
After unloading the equipment from her Jeep, Hanna set up her laptop and the controllers as she started queuing up the songs she was going to play. She was ready for the throngs of girls in tight dresses and shoes with heels a mile high, straining at the door. It was almost time for the doors to open. Hanna gave an affirmative nod to the manager across the room. She was fired up on adrenalin, excited to show the manager her talent. Hanna knew there was a lot riding on this job. She knew that this gig, and every gig for that matter, was a stepping stone to more popularity and more income.
Her confidence was shining tonight. She skillfully worked the computer program for the music and intuitively picked songs that reflected the mood of the dance crowd. Wherever she played, they seemed to respond to her style, the way she blended the music and people into one pulsing, throbbing ball of energy on the dance floor and as long as they were dancing, Hanna knew she was successful.
The stern looking bouncer at the door finally released his arm, and the first of the giddy high heeled girls poured into the club, trailed by ogling guys with sharp haircuts. With a flick of her wrist, Hanna cranked the music up to eleven, the pounding based reverberating around the room. Hanna smiled a huge grin as the crowd spilled onto the dance floor catching the beat of her tunes. She couldn’t help herself and picked up the rhythm, gyrating to the music as best she could while still working the equipment in her DJ booth on the stage.
Hanna loved to think that she brought enjoyment to people through her passion for music. Although she did not play an instrument, she had a good ear for matching which songs and beats worked well together and that was when she realized that being a DJ was her calling in life.
The music was thumping, hot sweaty bodies pulled in unison on the dance floor, in the aisles and everywhere, while red and indigo blue lights cast everyone in a dark crimson glow.
“Wow, great song, who is it?”
Hanna peered over her equipment to see the handsome face of a tall young stud who had approached her on the DJ stage. She could tell that he was hitting on her and smiled to herself. She didn’t mind, actually her long black hair and sexy outfits were part of the reason she was getting gigs. Her “look” was the window dressing, all part of her hip party style and Hanna knew how to use it to her advantage. She was keenly aware that it attracted the guys, like bees to honey. She would usually just play along for a short while and then get back to the music.
“It’s Kesha, Die Young,” she casually replied.
“Really? It’s doesn’t sound like the same song as on the radio.”
“No, this is a dance remix. I always play the remix versions as they are more danceable,” Hanna explained and turned her attention back to the computer as the next song had to be mixed in.
“Cool. I didn’t know. I’ve never heard that version before.” When Hanna didn’t respond back, he soon gave up hope of getting any further in his attempt, and went down to continue partying with his friends, who were high fiving him for making the bold move to approach the hot DJ.
Before every gig, Hanna would prepare for her performance, by searching out the best remixes of popular songs. It had become her trademark. She enjoyed these versions tremendously and lately was inspired to create remixes of her own. Using a program on her computer called Garage Band, she experimented with different beats and sounds. At first it was just for fun, but she quickly found that she had a knack for it. She had even mixed one of her favorite new songs "Broken Down" by a young, up and coming artist, Kimberly Cole. The song was already a
After unloading the equipment from her Jeep, Hanna set up her laptop and the controllers as she started queuing up the songs she was going to play. She was ready for the throngs of girls in tight dresses and shoes with heels a mile high, straining at the door. It was almost time for the doors to open. Hanna gave an affirmative nod to the manager across the room. She was fired up on adrenalin, excited to show the manager her talent. Hanna knew there was a lot riding on this job. She knew that this gig, and every gig for that matter, was a stepping stone to more popularity and more income.
Her confidence was shining tonight. She skillfully worked the computer program for the music and intuitively picked songs that reflected the mood of the dance crowd. Wherever she played, they seemed to respond to her style, the way she blended the music and people into one pulsing, throbbing ball of energy on the dance floor and as long as they were dancing, Hanna knew she was successful.
The stern looking bouncer at the door finally released his arm, and the first of the giddy high heeled girls poured into the club, trailed by ogling guys with sharp haircuts. With a flick of her wrist, Hanna cranked the music up to eleven, the pounding based reverberating around the room. Hanna smiled a huge grin as the crowd spilled onto the dance floor catching the beat of her tunes. She couldn’t help herself and picked up the rhythm, gyrating to the music as best she could while still working the equipment in her DJ booth on the stage.
Hanna loved to think that she brought enjoyment to people through her passion for music. Although she did not play an instrument, she had a good ear for matching which songs and beats worked well together and that was when she realized that being a DJ was her calling in life.
The music was thumping, hot sweaty bodies pulled in unison on the dance floor, in the aisles and everywhere, while red and indigo blue lights cast everyone in a dark crimson glow.
“Wow, great song, who is it?”
Hanna peered over her equipment to see the handsome face of a tall young stud who had approached her on the DJ stage. She could tell that he was hitting on her and smiled to herself. She didn’t mind, actually her long black hair and sexy outfits were part of the reason she was getting gigs. Her “look” was the window dressing, all part of her hip party style and Hanna knew how to use it to her advantage. She was keenly aware that it attracted the guys, like bees to honey. She would usually just play along for a short while and then get back to the music.
“It’s Kesha, Die Young,” she casually replied.
“Really? It’s doesn’t sound like the same song as on the radio.”
“No, this is a dance remix. I always play the remix versions as they are more danceable,” Hanna explained and turned her attention back to the computer as the next song had to be mixed in.
“Cool. I didn’t know. I’ve never heard that version before.” When Hanna didn’t respond back, he soon gave up hope of getting any further in his attempt, and went down to continue partying with his friends, who were high fiving him for making the bold move to approach the hot DJ.
Before every gig, Hanna would prepare for her performance, by searching out the best remixes of popular songs. It had become her trademark. She enjoyed these versions tremendously and lately was inspired to create remixes of her own. Using a program on her computer called Garage Band, she experimented with different beats and sounds. At first it was just for fun, but she quickly found that she had a knack for it. She had even mixed one of her favorite new songs "Broken Down" by a young, up and coming artist, Kimberly Cole. The song was already a
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