- I've been a fan of Ben Westbeech ever since he released his debut album Welcome to the Best Years of Your Life. The follow-up single, "Squeeze Me," produced in collaboration with Dutch DJ duo Kraak & Smaak made me love him even more. So when I found out that Westbeech was going to do a DJ set in one of Turkey's finest clubs, Babylon, I couldn't believe it. And, after the show was over, I still couldn't believe it—albeit for entirely different reasons.
When Westbeech played, it was a rainy Saturday night and the streets of Istanbul were deserted. We arrived at Babylon by cab and since the event was sold out, we were surprised to see that there was nobody queuing outside of the club to get in. We asked the bouncer if the party had moved somewhere else, but he assured us we were at the right spot. The moment we entered, you could feel the "icky" feeling inside. People were chatting away with their backs to warm-up DJ Zeynep Erbay and most of the looked like regulars of Babylon—the usual 30 year old quasi-intellectual and creative Istanbulites.
After an hour of dancy soul and funky house, Erbay left the stage. "What's up Istanbul?!" yelled Westbeech through the mic. My friends and I hollered back, but to our amazement, we were one of the few. The look of anxiety on Westbeech's face said it all: "Can this be true?" It was—and it got even worse. This wasn't entirely the crowd's fault. It was a typical Turkish audience, impatient to be entertained and unwilling to do much to help. Westbeech unfortunately got off on the wrong foot, however, by starting things off with four trance-like songs, which were totally out of place after the funky warm-up.
To his credit, Westbeech felt something wasn't right and, after the fourth song, again took the mic: "Istanbul! What's wrong with you? Are you ready?!" His efforts seemed to help: People left the bar to come closer to the stage, stopped chatting, and there even was some cheering going on. But Westbeech's next choice killed the night.
It's safe to say that Istanbul clubbers aren't keen on finding out about new music when they go out and when Westbeech started to play a jungle record, it was easy to see who was foreign and who was Turkish. Ten people were jumping up and down, having the time of their life, while the rest of the crowd looked at each other in total amazement.
Within fifteen minutes half of the crowd had left and, for at least five minutes later on, the electricity left as well. In the meantime, Westbeech was in blame mode—telling the sound crew that the speakers weren't turned on loud enough. (It seemed plenty loud to me.) All in all, it seemed like it was most likely one of Westbeech's worst nights as a DJ. And, on some level, you couldn't help but feel sorry for the guy. So when he decided to leave the stage, after an hour-and-half of total disaster, I think most people clapped because they wanted to show him support and not because they were happy with his set. Let's hope for his sake that this wasn't a regular night behind the wheels of steel.