The Airportline: Observations

Last spring I formed a DJ-collective called Hypotetisk Fuck your brother sound system. Well, it only consisted of me, so a collective might have been pushing it. The first gig we (I) got was at a music festival at my old University in Sweden. I had spent several nights putting together a play list that would make people dance, smile and love during the extremely shitty time slot that I was given. I was visiting friends in Amsterdam at the time, and flew home, missing Queens Day, to play at the festival. When I land in Stockholm I call my friend who I will stay with. He tells me the festival is canceled due to slow ticket sales. Hypotetisk Fuck your brother soundsystem took this hard and without playing one single show the DJ-collective that would take the world with a storm dispersed into several displaced catacombs.

Now, almost a year later, it is time for me to DJ again. After being headhunted on Facebook I will play some music in a student corridor to what I assume will be a bunch of drunk internationals with questionable music taste. Save The Red Light is the even more questionable title of the party, the address is Weesperstraat 9. The Airportline will be spinning from around 11.30 and onwards for an hour or so, dancing included.