Six months after Revelle College senior Jon Dadon spent $500 of his Nordstrom employee salary on two turn tables and a mixer, he collected enough neighborhood noise complaints to earn an eviction threat. The problem: There was music at his fingertips, but nowhere to play it. His solution: If the party couldn’t find him, he’d find the party ‘mdash; lugging his 250-pound equipment to random kickbacks, introducing himself to the host and asking, ‘Hey, do you mind if I set up?’
And the random house-party venues do provide for quite the show. One such evening in Mira Mesa, somebody decided to put out a roach in a box of newspapers, igniting it in flames. As drunken panic ensued and people ran for the doorway, Dadon (who had admittedly had a couple drinks himself) turned up the volume and soaked in the chaos ‘mdash; until someone slammed his laptop closed and scolded his enthusiasm for disaster.’ ‘ ‘
‘I saw something going on and I started to feel the music and the fire,’ he said.
Although not always involving spontaneous catastrophe, these cameos at improvised 30-person events proved to be great networking opportunities, and have since led Dadon to such success as 3,000 person gigs at Rosarito’s Papas and Beer.
Although Dadon didn’t yet feel like he has the skills to join a more experienced group, he wanted more. Five months later, in August 2007, he collaborated with a friend in designing music production logos that read SEM, a Web site-less, employee-less concept that at the time stood for Starry Eyed Music.
‘That phrase, starry-eyed, stuck with me,’ said Dadon. ‘It’s just kind of like being in the big spotlight. Like you’ve made it big time kind of deal.’
As flyers stamped with the Starry Eyed Music logo circulated at Dadon’s gigs and the brand gained momentum, he decided to bring a few others into the mix. He picked up members one at a time ‘mdash; other deejays, photographers, Web designers, promoters ‘mdash; always with the forewarning that he didn’t have much to offer.
‘I’d say, ‘I don’t know what I can give you. It’s going to be more of an experience, and let’s see where it goes, and if you believe that we can try to make something together, then let’s do it.”
Although now composed of six deejays and four staff ‘mdash; including Eleanor Roosevelt College seniors Matt Antoun and Ben Cohen and Thurgood Marshall College alumnus Gianni Del Vecchio ‘mdash; Starry Eyed Music is far from your average business venture. Though the 10-person group competes with other companies who claim $10,000 to $100,000 investors on music production, event planning, public relations and management, SEM members still have to pitch in for their own business cards. But considering Dadon financed business licensing and the startup out of his own pocket, money is the least of his concerns.
‘I was always broke and I’m still broke. It’s always kind of like, where are we going to get our next funds from?’ he said. ‘But its not for the money, its for the music.’
For Dadon and other members of SEM, potential financial uncertainty and job insecurity come second to a career committed to good music and lively parties.
‘I think people make a big deal out of how difficult it is to commit to your passion,’ said Dadon. ‘But especially in college, you have nothing to lose.’
The deejay collective’s event list is varied and eclectic, ranging from performances at On Broadway to crude desert dance parties in Palm Springs. Depending on set-up and clean-up time, group members can expect to put in a maximum 16 hours of working
and partying for any given performance.
‘We do the dirty work,’ said Dadon. ‘That’s the only way you can make it happen.’
Starry Eyed Music’s ambitions do not stop here. Members hope to land more club residencies, rent an actual office for meetings, travel more extensively and maybe even open up their own venue one day. In the meantime, though, they’ll hold an official company launch at Stingaree on Jan. 23.
Readers can contact Alyssa Bereznak at [email protected].