I mixed from “Go” into Bizarre Inc.’s “Playing with Knives,” and it fell flat. No euphoria, no exuberance—not even recognition. Just narcotic apathy for yesterday’s DJ playing yesterday’s rave record. Carlos, a.k.a. Soul Slinger, came over to the booth. “Hey, you want to finish early?” he asked. I’d been playing for thirty-five minutes; I was supposed to play for an hour. I couldn’t tell if he was being rude or kind.
