junelopez

DJ JUNE LOPEZ
by Ginger Rudolph
Good DJ’s have this mysterious way of manipulating the mind, twisting the body into a rhythmic submission. We may just hear one good song after another, DJ’s, however hear an entirely different language composed of beats. With a trained ear they hear the faint chime of an instrument buried underneath a mass of electronic sounds. With skilled hands they create a force that draws us out in droves night after night seeking refuge within their sanctuary.
I’m stuck inside the head of June Lopez the DJ/producer I’d witnessed spin an unbelievable set last week at Savannah’s. He’s a mad man when it comes down to talking about his craft—there are thoughts within thoughts, demonstrative gestures, and lots of sentences that end with “understand what I’m saying”? In the beginning I didn’t’ understand—“what could be so complicated about playing music for a crowd”? That’s when he went over the fine print with me…the time and energy that goes into trying to make a name for yourself in this business, knowing what people like before they do, keeping the energy surging, introducing something new without breaking up the flow. Then there’s the technical side of spinning and mixing—by the time we finished talking I felt like I needed a manual before I could ever touch a turntable again.
Lopez spends most of the interview conveying a deep pride in his roots and a passion for music. There is a correlation--they do intertwine—if you ever heard Ruben Blades sing “Patria”, (native land), you’d instantly understand. Lopez reminds me of my summers. He’s like the DJ that spun at the block party where every song hit the right spot on your body; throwing the house party with every window up filtering the music throughout the neighborhood. The guy that had something special, he was in tune to this internal rhythm—he had the goods.
Today the goods are in his own studio where he transforms every bit of pain and joy he derives from life into music. The turntables still exist too—the street parties have just evolved into clubs located in places you can’t access by a city bus--like Amsterdam and Austria.
For him, music is a vehicle that provides a sense of relief, an escape--it is something to indulge yourself in. Exposed to a wide range of music at an early age gave Lopez an acquired taste for a little of everything, incorporating that into his style has attracted local artists to his production company, Traveling Colors. In a business where you constantly give of yourself, I asked if he wanted anything in return, “I want everyone out there on the floor communicating with me,” he says.
Like an urban storyteller he weaves music together--every set tells a tale. By no means has Lopez’s written his final chapter--that can’t happen until the music dies out—according to Lopez that isn’t anytime soon.