It was September 10th, 2018, when I got a private message on SoundCloud from Taylor, the music director of one of the many theme camps in Black Rock City - the temporary city where Burning Man takes place. It was just a few days after my life had changed in the Nevada desert. And even though it felt completely unreal at the time, his nudge - that maybe we could collaborate at his camp Thumper the following year - eventually brought me back to Burning Man for the second time.

References are the main way to land a gig that countless musicians dream about (up until the moment they find themselves behind the decks - that kind of hell deserves a separate post). Getting booked through a recommendation isn’t surprising; that’s how the DJ world usually works. Someone notices you, invites you, and you travel to play. Simple. Except, the easiest place to get noticed is actually when you’re already playing in the desert...

Are there other options? Yes!

Let’s rewind three weeks - to August 24th, 2018, my birthday. I’m sitting in a hotel room in Reno. Locals call it the “little Vegas,” the rest of America calls it “Vegas for the poor.” For burners - the participants of Burning Man - it’s the traditional starting point. My will to live is miserable thanks to jetlag, but my mood is rescued by an email from Chris, the music curator of Camp Lip Bomb: “You didn’t make the main lineup, but a few people dropped out, and I’ve got Wednesday evening for you. You in?”

Lip Bomb isn’t just some random camp with five people and a portable speaker. It’s a mid-sized camp run by fierce women, and their production is top quality. They’ve struggled to organize in recent years, but back in the day they hosted names like Seth Schwarz. In 2018, I got to play there too - and it was wild. This camp held an actual selection process: you’d send in your set, and they’d either pick you… or not.

The most coveted time slots for music in Black Rock City aren’t right after midnight, but during sunrise and sunset. And the worst slot? It’s not 9:00 a.m., but… 8:00 p.m. That’s when people are heading to communal dinners or gearing up for nighttime adventures. That’s exactly when I was scheduled to play. Still, better than a poke in the eye. As a DJ at this time, you’re either setting the tone for the rest of the night - or playing for no one (sometimes not even the staff).

With that expectation, and after a few shots following a round of “deliberately terrible karaoke” at our camp, I set out to my coordinates. I sobered up fast. The place was packed, and the music before me was fast-paced house I wasn’t prepared for. Still, I enjoyed playing, and halfway through I realized why I’d even gotten the chance: the guy I was covering for got turned around at immigration. He admitted he was going to DJ at Burning Man - which isn’t allowed without a work visa (yes, even if you play for free). The first half of my set is recorded, though it’s not exactly mandatory listening 🙂

👉 SoundCloud link

My set stretched a few minutes longer, the curator thanked me profusely, and promised I’d be back the next year 100%. He never wrote again 🙂

In the desert (or “on the Playa”), opportunities are everywhere. Even if you don’t have a gig lined up, nothing’s lost. One of the funniest options are camps where you can literally sign yourself into the lineup.

Right there. On the spot.

Sometimes you need to take a shot with the curator first, sometimes you have to hunt for the sign-up sheet and scribble your name with a tiny pencil. And sometimes, you put your name into an Excel spreadsheet. That’s how I once ended up playing an epic 5-hour set in 40°C heat.

Another simple option: forums. Burning Man has its own forum called ePlaya, plus countless unofficial Facebook groups. All it takes is some searching and a bit of communication. A specific hub in Burning Man’s infrastructure is Spark - a place where people look for and offer “gifts of work,” including DJ gigs. My very first desert set came from a Spark posting I made.

And then there’s one more way - not very popular, but effective: come up with something outrageous, and the people who can help you make it happen will magically gravitate toward you. I’ll share the story of the baptism of my debut album-that-never-happened in another post.

So, do you want to play in Black Rock City? The biggest obstacle used to be the ticket. Last year, for the first time in ages, they didn’t sell out. So with a bit of radical self-reliance, you’ll definitely get to play your dream set.