story by Daymon Kiliman | photos by Sarah Beth Kiliman
In the top floor of a seemingly disused building on Leavenworth Street, Chris Massara leans over a table filled with turntables, laptops and mixers, connecting audio interfaces and power cables. At this hour, some DJs in Omaha tonight might be putting the final touches on the night's set list or enjoying a pre-show drink, confident that in a couple hours they will roll up to a club where the sound system will be prepped, just waiting for their tunes.
Massara, known as DJ Masaris, was already here once tonight, hauling subwoofers, speakers and lighting rigs up the stairs with the help of some fellow performers. He stopped at home for a shower and is back now, calling a friend to see if he can track down a cable someone forgot.
DJs regularly attest to exhausting schedule of bouncing from venue to venue at night and managing a freelance business during the day. Masaris's schedule is no different, except for the addition of a day job and the impression that he's trying to build something more than his own marketability. He works tirelessly to bring touring acts to Omaha; a recent show included a full lineup of artists on Dim Mak Records, Steve Aoki's label out of L.A., and coming up is Blatta and Inesha, hailing from Italy. Not content with only bringing some of the most high profile tours to Omaha, he maintains resident DJ status at such clubs as the Zin Room and regularly throws parties around the city.
The night I met him, his flagship event, LOUD, brought a tightly knit group of fellow DJs and electronic dance music enthusiasts to The Sandbox, which at first seems a misnomer for this concrete and brick loft. Except that a sandbox is a place for imagination and dreams – a place to build and wipe away inhibitions. Chris's efforts to foster a sense of community among fellow producers and DJs, to dream of great things happening in the dance music community here, and to throw a wild party full of sweat and smiles make his event here a suitable tribute to ambition and love of community.
Apocalypse Meow (Original Mix) by Masaris
His DJ set in full swing, he bobs his tall frame in front of pulsing white LEDs book-ended by large stacks of speakers and sub woofers. Crisp percussive rhythms escape through open windows and bounce off the Conoco across the street and tickle the edges of the 11 Worth Cafe. Fellow DJs and producers stand at the back the dance floor where a small breeze cuts through the smoke machine fog and provides some relief from the stagnant heat inside on an otherwise pleasant July night.
LOUD events could be complete self-indulgence for him and a close network of DJs. He doesn't need to be mindful of an out-of-town act, making sure not to commit the DJ faux pas of spinning tunes with such intense energy that are reserved for a headliner during the peak dancing hour. Although he takes the opportunity to play some harder style electro tracks, songs with rhythms, structures, and tones that place them just outside the mainstream Omaha clubs, he neither alienates the dance floor nor the spirit of LOUD events, a testament to his devotion to the scene.
On this night, when a small turnout patrols the edges of the dance floor, eyeing it with a mixture of desire and reservation, it's a harder task than on the better attended events.
“It's hard to figure out what to play when there aren't a lot of people here yet," Masaris says. "The audience gives you feedback, so when there aren't a lot of people here. It's like, 'OK, I'll try this track next. And now this.'"
As we talk behind the folding table that holds a jar for entry fees and a stack of wristbands that everyone hopes will be much smaller by the end of the evening, Masaris doesn't seem discouraged in the least. Leaning against a graffitied wall, in which spent spray paint cans stand lodged, he's sweating much more than the rest of us. Over the course of his entire set, he never stopped moving and enjoying the music. Masaris is infectiously upbeat, even on a night that some may despair is tending toward a loss. This energy comes from a constant awareness of what he's trying to do for the dance music community in Omaha by breaking down competitive barriers and pretension and instead focusing on collective strength.
Jordy Bouwens, a DJ and producer from Lincoln who goes by the name Cake Eater, recognizes the boost Chris Massara has given his profile.
“His sound system is sick. I show up with a laptop and turntable and get to play out with killer sound and great lights to a cool crowd," Bouwens says. "I was barely playing out before I met Chris. And now, I get to do all this.”
This month Jordy will provide an opening set for the internationally touring electro duo Designer Drugs, a rare opportunity and an honor Masaris is glad to share.
Although Masaris admits to wanting to leave Omaha one day, while he is here he will continue to make the biggest impression he can on the electronic dance music scene, simply for a love of the music, the culture and fostering a feeling of community within the scene.
“It's easy to get wrapped up in promoting and playing out with the same group of DJs,” he says, which is not surprising considering the thrill he gets from promotion. Whether it's inviting other DJs with whom he feels an artistic kinship to team up on an event or booking a national act, Masaris gets a rush from dreaming up and following through on the next big event in Omaha.
“When I finally solidified the Designer Drugs booking, it was like I just dropped the track that made the dance floor go nuts," he says. "It's the same feeling.” Thrills made all the more sweet through perseverance.
Although he's one of the biggest coordinators of national dance music acts in Omaha, he is very accustomed to not receiving replies from booking agents. When they do respond, it's often with top-tier reimbursement requirements or frighteningly restrictive 10-page contracts.
“The artists weigh coming here against going to other Midwestern cities like Denver or Chicago. They can either make little to nothing here or hit up a bigger destination and make $1,000,” he says.
Sure he has a dream list of acts he'd love to bring to the area – a list that at one time was handwritten and distributed via cell phone picture to a close circle of fellow DJs for consideration – but the city, as of yet, does not have a large electronic dance music culture.
“A lot local venues won't book DJ acts. This city has a strong indie rock culture, and the venues don't always understand booking a DJ act," he says. "It's hard to convince the Slowdown, for instance, to devote a night to that.” This forces Chris to be resourceful and creative to capitalize on the strengths of the city.
Enter the Sandbox. Far from the glamor of slick, couch-lined clubs with table service, there's a hot loft with stagnant air, a few thrift store furnishings, and some free Red Bull while it lasts. Some still identify it as The Faint's old practice space. Just as that band may have made the music industry rethink Nebraska's place on the cultural map, Masaris' efforts, his enduring vision and hard work, add to the richness and diversity of its musical landscape.
But casting such lofty goals aside, he throws a killer party. Even on this LOUD night, although it's less well-attended than others, he seems as pleased as when he was able to crowd surf the length of the French Underground's dance floor after his set at a collaborative party with Gunk, another local DJ collective.
Although fully capable of going it alone, it's fair to assume that Masaris wouldn't want to. Gregarious, he invites the rest of us to ride that peak-time track with him, to flash a smile and throw a sweaty bit of hair out of our eyes while dancing out our dreams.
Bartholomew (Original Mix) by Masaris
Enso, Masaris vs. Cake Eater and $pencelove open for Designer Drugs at House of Loom Thursday, Aug. 25 at 8 with Designer Drugs, Enso, Masaris vs. Cake Eater and $pencelove. Tickets are $15 . RSVP here.