13. July 2025 · Comments Off on Phones, DJs, and the Death of the Dancefloor · Categories: Comment, Hifi News, Views Of Stu · Tags:

Phones, DJs, and the Death of the Dancefloor

I was a DJ in the late 1980s and into the 1990s, a time when the DJ booth was a dark, smoky, filthy little hovel of a space hidden at the back of the club or tucked into a corner. In one venue I had a residency at, you originally had to climb through a hole in the booth floor that overlooked the dance floor. Punters weren’t supposed to see the DJ, at least not so much. We weren’t the focus; we were the facilitators. The crowd, the dancefloor, the music, that’s where the magic happened – and rightly so. It was a shared, sweaty, euphoric mess of bodies and beats with the DJ overlooking proceedings and conducting the shenanigans – feeding off the audience and the audience feeding off them. The only lights were pretty basic (sometimes just a strobe), the only attention was on the moment, and no one had their arm in the air clutching a phone trying to capture it all in shaky, pixelated footage – smartphones weren’t even a thing back then.

So when did it all change?

At some point, probably around the rise of the “superstar DJ” in the late 90s and early 2000s, the booth moved to the centre of the stage. Literally. DJs were now under spotlights, arms raised in synchrony with pyrotechnics, lasers, flung cakes (well, there’s always one), and the crowd was no longer losing itself in the music, but gazing up in reverence at the person behind the decks. God is not a DJ, and the DJ is not a God!

From the very beginning, I thought this was a mistake. It felt like a small but significant death. A removal of the communion and community.

And now? Well, now it’s gone even further. Not only are DJs the focus, but many punters aren’t even really there. Their bodies are, but their eyes and attention are gawping at a screen. Rows and rows of outstretched phones capture every drop, every transition, every rush. And it’s not just clubs, it’s the same at gigs, at festivals, even at small, intimate shows. An ocean of screens glowing in the dark, each one a tiny distraction from what should be a visceral, emotional, shared, and lived experience.

I get it…sort of. We live in a time where “pics or it didn’t happen” has become the mantra. Social media encourages us to share every aspect of our lives in highlight reels. Everyone wants that moment – the hands-in-the-air breakdown, the pyrotechnic explosion, the crowd-surfing encore, the cake smacking someone square in the face – to share and to be seen sharing. It’s a kind of digital proof of belonging. A badge. A boast. It does my head in, both as a punter and as someone who has been on the other side of the dance floor experience.

But here’s the thing: by trying so hard to capture the moment, we stop being in it.

Recording an entire (or the best part of a) gig on your phone doesn’t just reduce your own experience to watching it through a screen; it affects everyone else’s too. You’re blocking someone’s view, creating a wall of light in a dark room, and you’re helping create a kind of collective detachment. The audience is no longer a part of the performance. They’re documenting it. Surely the point of a live musical experience (and I include the DJ set as being live) is about the moment, the spontaneity, the shared dance floor experiences, the knowing glances when the rush comes on…

And what exactly are they going to do with those videos? Watch them back? Maybe once. Upload them with shitty audio and shaky visuals? Probably. But let’s be honest, most of those clips will sit buried in the cloud somewhere, unloved and unviewed.

Wouldn’t it be better to take a quick snap, get your memento, and then put the phone away and feel the music?

The shift from collective euphoria to collective observation has fundamentally altered the dynamic of live events. The dancefloor used to be a communion (with the little fellas as the eucharist), a shared experience, a release. Now, it can feel like a collection of individuals performing to their own digital audiences. We’ve traded sweat for selfies, immersion for Instagram. And I say all this as someone who shares a lot of stuff on socials.

And it’s not just the audience dynamic that’s changed. The artists feel it too. You hear more and more musicians complaining that they can’t connect with the crowd like they used to because the crowd is too busy filming them. There’s something tragically ironic about an artist pouring their heart and soul into a performance, only to be met with hundreds of faces illuminated by screens. I’m pleased to see that some DJs and artists are now asking folk not to use their phones at gigs.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not anti-technology. I’m not pining for a mythical golden age (well, maybe a bit). I understand that we live in a connected world and that people want to share their lives. But I wonder what we’re losing in the process.

We’re sensory creatures. Live music is about sound, of course, but also sweat, bass you feel in your chest, the glances between strangers, the spontaneous whoops, the missed beats, the moments that can’t be reproduced – the experience. Reducing that to a crappy video clip with even crappier sound does it no justice…and it robs you of the full emotional experience of being in the moment.

I say this not as an old cynic shouting at clouds (OK, I do that too), but as someone who genuinely mourns the erosion of presence, the moment. The feeling of being there. Not watching yourself be there, but truly being there. The name we’ve given ourselves should hopefully give you a clue – Human BEINGS! We are humans being – experiencing life, being a part of the experience. Experiencing a gig through a screen isn’t being, the screen takes us away from that experience, and I’m sure the chemical rush of the live experience is diminished – come on, boffins, do the research. 

So next time you’re at a gig, try this: take one photo. Maybe two. Then slip your phone back in your pocket, forget it, and let yourself go. Watch with your eyes. Listen with your ears. Dance with your whole body. That’s what the moment deserves. That’s what you deserve. That’s what everybody around you deserves.

And if the DJ’s up on stage in the spotlight, maybe look away for a bit. Turn around. Find your groove on the floor. That’s where the magic still lives, if we let it. Reach for the lasers, feel the rush, and then, when the gig is over, that’s when you can message your mates and tell them what a life-affirming experience you have just been part of! 

Stuart Smith Mr HiFi PiG

Stuart Smith

What do you think of the overuse of phones at gigs and clubs? Join the conversation over on our socials. 

Read more Sunday Morning Thoughts

Manley Labs Acquired By Dirk Ulrich
HiFi PiG Partners With Asia’s Most Exciting HiFi Shows

Read More Posts Like This

  • For Audiophiles using their phone for on the move sounds, Essential has announced that the Audio Adapter HD is now available to buy – currently, only in the US and…

Comments closed.