I’m Not a DJ, But Happy to Give It a Go on NYE

“Fancy doing the music on New Year’s Eve?” asked the landlord of my local pub one night in November.

“I’ll give it a go,” was my nonchalant reply.
Rewinding on my DJ experience… well, it’s virtually non-existent.

Yes, I used to mix tunes on my mate’s Technics back in the House days, and I’d done the music in between sets at the local music festival, but that’s about it.

No private jets flying me to Ibiza for a four-hour set or anything glamorous like that. But it was still November, so I carried on with my pint. I’ve always loved music—across all genres too. Motown, Northern Soul, Punk, House—you name it. If you’ve been to HQ and seen the vinyl collection, you’ll know my taste crosses everything. I just love music.

Fast forward to mid-December, and the landlord cornered me again—this time, a few pints deep.
“Still up to play New Year’s Eve?”
“Of course… how about 1 PM till 1 AM, and we raise some money for charity?”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, why not?”
And just like that, my fate was sealed.

The next morning, the full weight of what I’d agreed to hit me: twelve hours of music. Twelve hours. Lots of music.
With my brain racing, I tried to make sense of it logically. Break it into one-hour sets, organise by genre, figure out if anyone would actually want to listen. Could I get the dance floor full for that crucial 10–12 slot, and the hour after?
Let’s take a step back. It’s my local pub. There won’t be hundreds of people waving glow sticks, expecting me to blow the roof off. Let’s think smiling faces, hands in the air, good vibes.

So, I got to work devising my 12-hour musical journey. Four sheets of A4 later, I thought I had enough tunes. I didn’t. Far from it. I was still revising the list up to the very last day. Writing up playlists and planning back-to-back tracks is one thing—but could I actually pull it off?

Too late to worry about it now—the whole world (well, the pub) was watching, waiting to see this wannabe DJ in action. The night before, I popped down to check the gear and familiarise myself with the warehouse-sized dance floor. (It felt that big, though in reality, it’s just the Tap Room at the Cricketers Arms.)

The Cricketers Arms. A real local pub. Just wet sales, unless you want a bag of crisps or a treat for your dog. It’s always been this way, yet somehow it hosts brilliant music festivals in the summer. It’s very real.
The big day arrives. I went to work to print off the final set list, and then treated myself to a full English at the deli. Or perhaps it was more like my last supper…

I make my way to the Pub at 12:15, Charity Bucket etc in hand. This is so far from Ibiza it's untrue! :) This is for Charity though, supporting Bottled Up Blokes

Arriving at the Pub, I am warmly greeted by the Landlord & Landlady, & 3 Superfans. Cup of Tea and a few slice of posh sourdough toast, lines me up and ready.

However much time and effort I have put into this set list, I know that it wont be busy till the early evening, yet surprisingly within the hour, I have a pretty decent crowd of people, who all seemed to be passing by on a dog walk, for a quick pint, which inherently turns into a few more, when a superstar DJ is in the house.......

I played a cool warm up hour, followed by Motown, Northern Soul etc. Steady as & warmly received. I do remember looking at the Clock around 4pm and thinking about what I had signed up for. Im not drinking at this stage. I don't trust myself. Its Tea all the way.

Protection was offered in the form of Dog Guards too. Early doors anyhow.

By the 6–7 PM set, the pub was buzzing. Friends were in, smiles all around. Come 7 PM, I dropped into the Indie Hours, knowing the crowd was primed and ready to warm to it. You’ve got to read the room—that’s my professional DJ advice, anyway.

Up until 10 PM, I mixed around the sets, reading the room and playing tunes accordingly—and I started on the Guinness.

By 10 PM, you could feel the energy in the room. People were drinking, smiling, laughing, joking. Oh yes, I had them in the palm of my hands. I adjusted the 10–12 sets on the fly to suit the crowd, and I have to admit, I was fully in the “DJ Zone.”

“Can you mix in something from The Sound of Music? I dare you.”

I did!

Drinks were offered in pints and shots, but being the professional I am, I had to politely refuse.

I’d been trying to post on socials every hour, but that plan went sideways—definitely need a personal photographer and some social media support next time.

10–12 was off the scale. Well, at least in my head—and the sea of people (slight exaggeration) in front of me seemed to agree. It was rammed.

Then 12 hits, the bell strikes, and the whole pub erupts into an Auld Lang Syne singalong.

It was brilliant.. 

The following hour was a blur, and all I could see were hands in the air. We did it—twelve hours of non-stop music. 1 PM till 1 AM, which actually ended up being 2:30 AM when I finally had to pull the plug. My brain was frazzled, I hadn’t eaten enough, I hadn’t drunk enough, and the hands in the air weren’t dropping—but I was. Half a pint of Guinness at the bar post-set, and the world was all good. Everyone had enjoyed themselves, lost themselves in the music and among friends. How life is supposed to be.

Would I do it again? Yes. I loved the ebb and flow of people over those twelve hours.

Did I expect S Club 7 – Reach for the Stars to be such an anthem? No.

You can see the set list here, but was changed throughout the night.

We raised our Glasses.

We raised some money.

We had fun.