Sitting on my couch in the cabin in front of walls brimming with 45s and LPs I can’t help but feel anything but completely comfortable. Scanning the rows and piles looking for something to catch my eye is what I do with most of my time. I did the same thing for my gig last night and I am doing it for tonight’s gig, tomorrows gig, then I get a night off and it’s back to the turntables for the next two nights. My wife will tell you that I spend a lot of time in this very spot listening to and scrutinizing records to see if they can pass the test for the set of the night.

Choosing records is quite a ritual. It is difficult to describe how involved the process can be unless you have witnessed it first hand. I need a lot of records. Part of my job is to find more records for my gigs. I look for them everywhere, the flea market, thrift stores, yard sales and record stores. Our cabin is awfully tiny and there are approximately 4,000 records sitting neatly organized on shelves, the other half is in the basement. In our little cabin an afternoon of going through records results in a floor littered with stacks of vinyl of all kinds. With a DJ schedule of five nights out of seven this week our place is sure to be a disaster by Saturday.

Creating an atmosphere with a set of records is an art form and can easily take an entire day. It is rarely recognized as part of the DJ’s working process because it usually occurs behind the scenes. People don’t get a chance to see the inner workings of building a set. When I am focused on a sound for a particular gig (for example my record hop on Wednesday night) I can spin easily 100 rhythm & blues, rockabilly and guitar instrumental 45s. I never know when I might want to change direction in the middle of a set so for a gig like this one I bring 200.

I like to start with a “root” record that the entire set will be based around. Every tune after that will grow from it and will be connected to that single piece of music. I begin the process by “pulling” 45s from their sections that I will definitely want to spin at some point in the set. Those records go straight into stacks on the floor according to genre. After that I go through the sections again and pull records that are strong possibilities. I listen to them and sort them into their respectful genre stacks. The last step in the initial pull is when I go back through the sections one more time and see if there is something that I missed. It is always a good idea to check b-sides and records that have been sitting for a while. I am surprised at how often I find a neglected gem of a record just sitting on the shelf.

When I am satisfied that I have found the basic sound for the set I listen to every single record and visualize the venue and the space. This is when I do the fine tuning. Many records don’t make the grade in this portion of the process. Each record is carefully scrutinized and checked for skips, cleanliness, sound quality, lyrical content and my emotional response to the song. Many of my records come from people’s dusty basements or crusty boxes from flea market sellers. Often times they have been sitting in piles, with no sleeves for 60 years or more. Cleaning records is a drag but it is a necessary task. It also takes up valuable time but the result is more often than not worth the effort. Records with skips get put back on the shelves. Joining them will be anything that didn’t pass the cleaning test, records that are just too scratchy and records with questionable lyrics. Songs that instill an emotion in me are mentally noted and will be placed in the set at the appropriate moment.

Now that I have my records picked out and in clear stacks I begin the important process of organization. This is where I will beat my head against the wall trying to create some sort cohesive system for finding records faster and easier at the gig. I start with one stack at a time a subdividing each pile into separate piles which are unrecognizable to the average person. For this gig I will have six to nine stacks of 45s of three basic genres; rockabilly, rhythm & blues and instrumentals. Those stacks are divides again into fast songs, slow songs and strolls.

The most finely detailed step is to make sure that all of records in the stacks have a corresponding sleeve. I spend as much time matching sleeves to 45s as I do searching for records. Every 45 in the set with its original sleeve gets a plastic outer sleeve to help preserve its condition. There is something special about reuniting an original 45 with its original sleeve, it completes the restoration process and makes it easier to identify the records in a high pressure situation in a dark venue. This is important because I do not plan the order in which the records will be played. All the organization is done in advance to allow me the freedom to create a random music experience that can ebb and flow with the atmosphere of the venue and the crowd.

When it is all said and done I look down at the neatly organized stacks, a couple hundred 7” square pieces of paper filled with lost aural treasures of wax and I can’t help but think what a beautiful thing. The box is alive with history and untold stories that have passed through time from the original owner, to the basement, to the yard sale, to my hands and back into a world where more people know what an ipod is than a turntable. I lovingly place each pile into the 45 box, close the lid and secure the latch, these records are ready to be reintroduced to the world and their luster has been preserved for another generation.

Photographs by Rosey Lakos at roseylakosphotography.com.