Becoming a Dad isn’t the death knell for your clubbing and DJing career, as Andy Buchan explains
Parenthood: the moment when you cash in whatever cool you had, adopt a bleary-eyed zombie walk through life and ditch your deep house tunes in favour of endless Peppa Pig re-runs.
Honestly, no. I thought the same. Creating and looking after a newborn human life is the best job in the world (oh, hey Lyla!) And it’s tough, impossibly tough when you’re in the middle of a 48-hour tantrum and it’s coming out of both ends like a Mr Whippy machine gone bad. But it’s also the most fun I’ve ever had, and nearly two decades of clubbing mean that I’m well equipped to handle the pressures of parenting.
Staying up late
Sure, you might have had endless Vodka Redbulls and a pumping soundtrack to keep you awake when you were younger, but now you have a Nespresso machine mainlining to your arteries and a screaming baby. Who. Will. Not. Let. You. Sleep. So. Deal. With. It. And smile. And breathe. Always breathe. Oh, and make that a Nespresso Martini, actually.
Anyone who’s hosted a proper after-party knows the biblical mess involved. There are enough leftover drinks to make Patsy and Eddy blush, there are randoms that even the randoms don’t know on the sofa and takeaway pizza hanging from the lampshade. Fast-forward to your 1-year-old child, and the only difference is the randoms: you know them all as Charlie, Aria and Josh and you willingly – willingly and under the influence of nothing stronger than Panadol – invited them round for a play date.
So, yeah. Peppa Pig will lurch in your head like a predatory earworm, and you’ll catch yourself humming it in the supermarket, only noticing when fellow parents give you a pity smile down the baby food aisle. But, on the flip side, babies and toddlers love new music. And babies and toddlers don’t get upset when you have a 4-bar loop to your new track on repeat, and then soundcheck your kick/hi hat combo for 30 relentless minutes. See, wife, Lyla likes my music! Ahem.
Down the club
An unfortunate by-product of being a DJ Dad is that I occasionally have to go to work. At night. In a club, with fun, cool people. I know, it sucks, but someone has to do it. This does not mean I don’t wish I was at home with my wife, falling asleep in front of the sofa with beans on toast in a vest on at 8.30pm on a weekend having power-drank my way through a bottle of wine, but work is work, no matter how unpleasant the calling might be.
Cunningly, you can combine your re-entry back into the civilized world at 4am with a night feed. The sight of your baby can do one of two things: send you into a somnambulistic snooze in his/her cot, or you’re still hyper and get him/her up for play times Both have bad outcomes, for everyone, including your soon-to-kick-in-hangover. But your intentions were from the heart, just like offering your LO a bite of your Burger King Whopper meal that you’ve trudged home with.
None of this – quite literally – would be possible without your other half. So thanks, Stef, for indulging my hobby and 2nd career and thanks for picking up the slack the next morning when I’m snoring blissfully in bed. There’s a weekend away with your name on it very, very soon.
To check out Andy’s Soundcloud page, go here