In a time of free love, reckless drug use and dance floors that lit up, there was one man whom to this day remains a legend. Samson Weaseldust. It is written that Samson is partly responsible for the creation and momentum of what is now called post/disco, pre/rave scene. Samson armed with only his trademark portable record player and an eight ball of pure Columbian white he would bombard felonious haunts to spread his chatter of the next big hit record. You see, Samson felt he had been given a gift from God of selecting music that would change lives and expand minds. Acting not as a DJ himself but rather as the messenger, as if no one else on earth could hear music the same way he could. His trademark move was to put a 45 onto his portable record player and hold it to the DJs ear while the DJ was trying to play. 'Sammy' as the clubbing faithful knew him would then urge the embittered DJ to play the track he was pushing at the moment. If you were a DJ in the late 70's or early 80's spinning on the eastern seaboard of North America you may well remember the legend of Sammy Weaseldust.
I have a hard time believing that Weaseldust was Samson's real last name but there is no proof to the contrary. From stories passed down through time he certainly lived up to the name however and perhaps was even the reason his choice elicit substance is referred to as such. Heavy drug use was common in the days of old (not to say that those days are gone, hardly) and Sammy Weaseldust was no exception to the trend. At his height of club fame Sammy was the life of the party. Consuming copious amounts of substances like cocaine and ecstasy Sammy could hardly string a coherent sentence together but could always find the time to assault the DJ with his picked songs for the moment.
The dark days would follow as the popular club scene went deep underground and drugs, crime and heavy metal came to the forefront. This had a profound effect on Sammy as DJ's became less and less tolerant to "party kids" hounding their every song selection and the inevitable adaptability to music trends fixed its ruthless eye on pop culture. One account put Sammy in the midst of attempting to have a selector play one of his tracks the DJ picked up Sammy and threw him over the DJ booth and on to the dance-floor 30 feet below breaking both of Sammy's legs and shattering his tailbone. Since that fated day Sammy was confined to arm bracing crutches and so began the inherent turn. His love of sharing music turned dark as a winter’s night and equally as congeal.
Sammy then became lost in a sea of tranquilizers, petty theft, and prostitutes. He turned to religion as a saving grace. He began standing on street corners reading passages from the good book and lyrics from Diana Ross songs. Actual Encounters turned to stories, and stories turned to myth, and myth to legend, and Sammy Weaseldust faded into the streets. Accounts of what Sammy Weaseldust looked like are conflicting and it is hard pressed to find any actual photo of Sammy in action. All but one that was found in the archives of his one time lady companion who snapped this rarity before a night out at famed Studio 54 in New York.
Days to weeks, weeks to months, months to years, stories are whispered as to what Sammy Weaseldust is doing today but no actual evidence of his existence can be found. It is known however that Samson fathered one son that he had never met. It is not known his sons name or whereabouts. So if you are out DJ'ing out there and someone holds an iphone up to your ear playing a song you "must play" it just may be the heir of Samson 'Sammy' Weaseldust.
MSTRKRFT (Feat. John Legend) - Heartbreaker (Wolfgang Gartner Remix)
