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That's Miss Stress to you
Always on the move, techno DJ Misstress Barbara may not even qualify as a "local" anymore
By KRISTA
Sagittarius. The archer. The mutable fire sign, full of will and conviction. Blindly optimistic and at times tactless, yet honest and straightforward. Sagittarius is not easily swayed and laughs in the face of adversity. Challenge is important in a fulfilling Sagittarian life. In fact, the compulsion to set new goals and reach them is so strong it can become all-engrossing.
Well, that pretty much sums up Sicilian-born Sagittarius Misstress Barbara, who started on the path to DJ stardom in the spring of 1996 here in Montreal, and is now getting booked from Sao Paolo to Berlin by way of the Philippines. So strong was her desire to make it in the tumultuous world of underground techno that she worked two jobs and gave up a social life in order to support a record addiction, finance a studio and start up her own label.
These days she doesn't need to work in the service industry, and she is so booked up that she hardly has time for those high-profile Sona gigs. But the journey to the top is not without its difficulties and it would seem that Barbara's Sicilian background and Sagittarian convictions have served her well.
Mirror: I've known you since you bought your first records at DNA, and now you're a world-travelling DJ/ producer. I remember when you started soliciting labels with your tracks and how discouraged you were at being turned down. When did the record deals finally start happening?
Misstress Barbara: My first record deal was with Dave Angel's Rotation label. But I had been sending demos everywhere and getting no response or thank-you for a while. Then Dave Angel came to play at Sona, and I went with some friends to hear him. I brought a demo with me even though I thought he would probably throw it away. I didn't even talk to him, I just shook his hand and gave him the demo tape and said, "This is my music." One week later I got a message on my phone from his wife, who's his agent and manager, saying that he liked my music and that he was going to call me as soon as he got back from wherever. He called me two days later and we did the deal.
M: But that's not the first record that came out?
MB: No, I had twice sent demos to Tronic records (in Sweden) that were declined, and I was pissed, you know. But Christian Smith (owner of Tronic) and I had become friends and I asked him to send a demo of mine to Loop Records in Sweden because he knew them. So I sent him the package and of course, out of curiosity, he opened it, listened to it and called me saying, "I love your tracks, I want to sign you!" So Rotation was the first deal, but Tronic was the first to be released, because Dave Angel already had five releases set up before mine.
M: You managed to hit all the Swedes and launch your own label before the Rotation EP was out.
MB: Yeah, well the other Swedish labels I sent demos to, Zync and Countdown 2000, they accepted right away. Then I met the A&R guy for Carl Cox's In-Tech label last year in Miami and did a track for that, then another project with Christian. Then after that, and most importantly, I started my label Relentless.
M: Well, let's talk about that then, as there's obviously an important question to be asked about why you chose that name for your label, and the fact that it's so fitting.
MB: Well, I heard that name, that word, at a gig in Vancouver. People were coming up to me after my set saying, "You are so relentless," and I was like, what? What is relentless? You know my English back then wasn't so good. I was sure it was an insult. But they explained to me that they meant someone who never stops, who has no pity, and I really liked that.
M: Well you seem to be pretty relentless.
MB: Yeah, it's so me. I'm so glad I named my label Relentless. It really reflects me. It's like my name, miss-stress (pronounces it). You know the story of my name, don't you?
M: No, I don't think that I do.
MB: Well, it's Misstress with four Ss, for Miss Stress, because that's what I am: un paquet de nerfs. I'm nervous by nature. Just look at my nails. I talk fast, I wave my arms around, I eat like a pig but look at me. I'm not fat. I just really have a lot of energy. That's it. I'm moving all the time, playing three records at a time, in the studio all the time. I mean, sure, I get tired, but it doesn't really stop me.
Picasso, Monet and Rush
Barbara was born in Sicily in 1975 and came to Montreal in 1983, when she was seven and a half. Her parents settled into Little Italy and opened a store. Barbara grew up listening to classic rock, feathering her hair and playing the drums. Techno was not part of the agenda. Then she went to a rave, and her life was forever changed.
M: Ever imagine what life would be like if they had stayed in Sicily?
MB: If I was still in Sicily I really don't think I'd be a DJ now. I'd probably be married with kids and a house. It's amazing how different my life would be. When I go back and tell my friends there what I do, I don't think they believe me. They don't understand. Actually, even people I went to university with here laughed when I told them I'm a DJ. They didn't get it either. It's such a different mentality, another level of mind.
M: What do your parents think about all this?
MB: My parents? Well, they're happy for me, now. But when I first told them I wanted to be a DJ they were like, "A what?"
M: Did they ever try to intervene or stop you from pursuing this goal?
MB: No, because I finished school and got my university degree, and I had a job up until I started making more money in one night of DJing than in a week at the restaurant. But their questions gave me moments of insecurity, even though I knew in my heart that I was going to have records out and be successful at this. Back then they were just worried about me. Today it's such a different story.
M: Do you think they "get it," the whole techno DJ thing?
MB: Well, no. I don't think they get it, but they're very proud of me. They show all their clients and friends my flyers and stuff, but they don't really understand my music. They don't understand why I fly to the Philippines or Venezuela or Brazil, that there's a scene there.
M: Was there a time when you didn't get it?
MB: Oh yeah, sure. Before I discovered techno I was a rocker and I used to play the drums. I hated dance music, because all I knew was what I heard on the radio. The first time I heard real techno, that tribal-y rhythm, I forgot all about rock music. But some of my friends still don't get it. The other day a friend of mine told me she went to China Club for her birthday. I was like, "Good, it must have been cool." She said it was boring, that the music was too instrumental and she didn't know any of the songs. There were no words.
M: If you all grew up in the same social environment, how is it that you understand techno and they don't?
MB: I don't know. It's just a whole different level of mind. I could say it's the drugs, that once you took the drugs you opened your mind to this scene and the music, but I know many people who never took drugs and are freaks for this music. It's another level of mind that you develop. I mean, why did Picasso do art that I don't understand, while Monet did art that I do understand? Monet, it's easy--there's a tree, there's a house. But I am as stupid in front of Picasso as those people are in front of my music. To understand an abstract painting you have to study it, develop an appreciation for it.
Life after laundry-land
M: What does being a DJ mean to you? Is it the spotlight, the kids and the energy, or just about getting behind the decks and playing your tracks?
MB: Well, it's true that I get booked and flown all across the world for what I do. But I'm getting booked to go and play for the people. And I play in amazing places every week with huge, big-game DJs who can't even mix. They're so selfish, they don't even care. And the people at the party, they don't know so they're into it. But then I go on and they lose it, they go crazy. The difference is that I can tell the moment that I go on that they need to hear something special. Within the limits of my style I know what it is that the people want. You have to work with the tools that you have, and you have to think about the people.
M: What about Montreal? How does it compare to other cities around the world and how do you see yourself in the scene here?
MB: I love Montreal for the parties and the crowds. People here aren't scared of anything. No one ever complains that the music was too hard. It's just that at one point I stopped being part of the scene here. I mean, I just live here, do my laundry here.
M: You've avoided having to measure your success by Montreal standards. That's quite an accomplishment.
MB: I guess I just understood the importance of exporting myself. It's not that I don't care about Montreal, even though I'm sure it offends people that I say this, but there were no gigs to stay here for. Then when I started getting bigger promoters would call and I would have to say, "Sorry, I'm busy." They were hearing it so much it became like a song to their ears.
M: Do you have any complaints?
MB: Me, no. Well, a bit. You're lonely when you do this job, and it's hard because it's my passion and I have no one to share it with. And I'm only at the beginning. My career is going like this (gestures upward). I know that, so there's going to be even less time. But these are my choices, and if you asked me to change I would say no. :
At Connected 2000, at the Molson Centre, on Saturday, March 25, 10pm, $40. Also on the bill: Carl Cox, Ed Rush & Optical, Christian Smith, Trevor Rockliffe and, like, a gajillion local DJs
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