They’re zipping around from city to city—San Francisco one day, L.A. the next, somewhere in Europe or South America after that—in and out of the studio between nightclub sets, and remixing a bevy of established artists including Mika, Passion Pit, and Kid Cudi.
But the Ottawa duo Jokers of the Scene are not slaves to some corporate management machine; they’re living the quintessential DJ dream on their own terms. In a global electro music scene where the career arc is typically fast, showy, and superficial, JOTS have built a growing reputation and loyal following by being slow, dark, substantial, and sustainable.
Story by Meaghan Isaacs / Photos by Paul Galipeau
The images that come to mind with Jokers of the Scene (JOTS) are not at all what you’d expect from electronic music artists: goat heads, pentagrams, upside-down crosses. During sets in darkened, energized clubs, the acronym JOTS looms on a screen above, the dripping letters in a death metal font while two skinny guys with close-shaved heads spin eerie, often sinister tracks.
The deviant look that JOTS has nurtured may be the most immediate evidence of how Ottawa’s latest breakout music story ain’t about your average bangers.
Linus Booth, who at 38 is no threat to be an overnight pop star, has been a music man from his early days. “Music has always been a career for me in one form or another,” he says. DJ Booth (his performing handle) hosted karaoke nights at Shanghai and ran the record shop Organized Sound before closing it in 2006 to keep pace with the growing success and demands of JOTS.
The slow-build JOTS success story began two years earlier, when Booth teamed with friend Chris Macintrye to start up the now legendary monthly club party called Disorganized.
Macintyre, 29, had been laying down tracks on the side under the name Chameleonic but hadn’t yet considered it a career. Working nine-to-five at a high-tech firm, Macintyre recalls “a lot of tired, shitty days at work,” often after a Disorganized party or a gig out of town.
Fed up juggling two lifestyles, Macintyre quit the high-tech world and fully committed to JOTS in 2007, even though it meant “going from a salary to erratic means of income.” Like most art-driven careers, the DJ profession is full of pitfalls; Macintyre is thankful for the work ethic he developed to maintain a day job.
Once they’d gone all in, Disorganized became a key way for JOTS to gain exposure but it also allowed the pair to introduce local audiences to a slew of renowned guest acts such as A-Trak, Chromeo, MSTRKRFT and Sammy Bananas, branding Booth and Macintyre as tastemakers about town.
Still, as Disorganized grew in popularity—and JOTS grew in age—the regulars changed. Friends of the founders stopped showing up when it grew into “the thing to do on a Friday night,” says Macintyre. Disorganized became overrun with a younger, party crowd looking for the hottest place to get wasted. Meanwhile, as JOTS touring intensified, the return to Ottawa every month to host Disorganized was putting strain on the schedule.
Chris Macintyre mans the mic
Then came the realization: “This is not the party we started,” recalls Booth. “And it had nothing to do with us anymore,” adds Macintyre. After six years, the final Disorganized was held on New Year’s Day 2010 and a new party called Frenzy has risen to fill the void, though JOTS are not part of it.
“We want to be fun but still evolve,” explained Booth. And evolve they did.
Trading shows with other DJs in places like Philly and New York led JOTS to a contract with Fool’s Gold Records in 2007, a label run by noted industry heavyweights Nick Catchdubs and A-Trak. But when running with a crew that includes flashy acts such as Kid Sister and has ties to Kanye West and party DJ Steve Aoki, the Ottawa duo definitely stuck out.
“We exist in a world where we feel like the black sheep sometimes,” Macintyre says. Ironically, it’s their divergent, dark, and ever-changing sound that packs the clubs for JOTS appearances; the duo’s penchant for fitting epic and cinematic material into a party context arguably puts them in a class of their own. JOTS are predictably unpredictable and their fans have happily stuck around to witness the evolution. “It’s kind of a cult following in that sense,” Macintyre explains. “They don’t seem to ever leave us. It’s not based on names or labels.”
Booth adds that if the choice was ever between “playing for twenty people that love what we do versus playing for two hundred people that are standing around, talking...” JOTS will also choose the love, even though the bigger shows often make more financial sense. And while sometimes the pair do get booked for bottle service, Ed Hardy-type events with a large, talkative crowd, they laugh about it and enjoy themselves.
JOTS also differ from the norm by being comfortable poking fun at themselves. Indeed, the name Jokers of the Scene itself arose from the jeers and criticism issued by critics who couldn’t wrap their heads around the music JOTS were making and wrote comments on music web sites such as “Who are these jokers?”
“People thought we were assholes or elitists,” says Macintyre. “We don’t always go with the ‘go-to’ songs ... it’s just not us,” adds Booth, “We look to what’s coming out tomorrow or four years ago.”
Macintyre (left) and Booth remain hungry for greater success.
JOTS have also tapped into a growing trend of circulating music in ways beyond the conventional record label. They have released music in partnership with an assortment of style-conscious consumer brands including New York City-based streetwear line Mishka, Mountain Dew’s Green Label, car maker Scion, and the leading energy drink Redbull.
Of course there’s backlash from purists who question involvement with big corporations, but JOTS point out that artists often get better pay and treatment this way than they would with most record labels. Without the support from companies like Redbull and Scion, for instance, JOTS wouldn’t be able to travel and increase exposure as much as they’re currently able to.
Despite the busy schedules, Booth and Macintyre maintain close ties to Ottawa through occasional performances and steady contact with family and loved ones.
Booth, who is a father, has wondered on Twitter whether the Fool’s Gold whistles he picked up were the best post-conference gift for his kids. And his Facebook status updates offer ironies such as: “Most people worry about their parents adding them to social networking sites ... I worry about my kids adding me.”
All of which begs the question: how many fellow DJs grapple with those same domestic worries while on tour? “There’s not many people in our age group,” answers Macintyre.
“Having learned all the rules, now it’s time to break them,” observed Booth, a maverick approach that includes moving at a slower pace yet routinely outlasting acts that fizzle as quickly as they appeared.
“The slow burn always succeeds and creates longevity,” adds Booth.
With a new two-part single out this summer, JOTS are busy with gigs in Europe and the UK to promote the recordings. The first part, “Revolting Joks,” came out at the end of May and featured a remix by Boy 8-Bit on the b-side. For the second part, “Joking Victim” with a remix from Shit Robot on the b-side, eager ears will have to wait until its release in early September.
When time allows for reflection on how and where it all started, the current Ottawa scene is a charged subject for the two music makers.
“For us, the scene here is so struggling,” says Booth, pointing to promoters burning out and venues struggling for identity. In this conservative, sleepy city, acts have to put in that much more effort to make noise or push an idea or movement.
“If you’re putting in the bare minimum, it’s never going to go anywhere,” Booth says. “Ottawa is a city to come up in but then it plateaus,” adds Macintyre. “For us to progress, we need a more challenging environment.”
JOTS would like to see more local people break out of the mould and try something fresh and daring, giving Ottawa the ear-to-ear resuscitation it needs.
“The scene is up for grabs!” says Macintyre.
Any takers? JOTS are offering a great model. A changing, unconventional sound and a carefully crafted rise to fame have made these modest Ottawa boys a sustainable, global force to be reckoned with—and fans are happy that there’s no end in sight.
As Macintyre explains: “We’re lifers. We can’t get away from it.”
