When Music Briefs Become Music Formulas

A quick note before you read…

Confession time.

I used AI to help me write this article.

Not because I don't have an opinion, but because I was struggling to articulate it without sounding like an angry old bloke waving my fist the at clouds!!!

Everything you're about to read is my opinion.

The experiences are mine, the frustrations are mine and, if you've followed me and NuNorthern Soul for a while, you'll probably recognise plenty of conversations I've had over the years.

AI simply helped me organise my thoughts into something readable.

There's a certain irony in using AI to help write an article about creativity and music selection.

I can already hear someone saying, "Well that's a bit rich..."

Fair enough.

But I'm not anti-technology. Never have been.

I've embraced every major change in DJing over the past three decades, from vinyl to CDs, digital libraries / readers WAVs and streaming.

AI hasn't written this article. It hasn't formed my opinion. It's simply helped me express it more clearly.

For me, that's exactly what good technology should do.

It should support creativity, not replace it.

+++++++++

A little context before we begin. Running parallel to my international club DJ career, I've spent more than 30 years working in hospitality as a DJ and Music & Events Manager, creating guest experiences for hotels, beach clubs, restaurants and luxury destinations from Ibiza to Bali. Along the way I've worked with internationally recognised hospitality brands and independent venues alike, collaborating with owners, operators and creative teams who understand that music isn't just background noise—it's an essential part of the guest experience.

I've been thinking about music briefs a lot recently.

Not because I disagree with them. Quite the opposite.

I've written them.

In fact, over the years I've written music briefs and curated music programmes for luxury hotels, restaurants, members' clubs and hospitality brands around the world. I've always believed music deserves a seat at the table when we're designing memorable guest experiences.

So this isn't criticism from the sidelines.

It's coming from someone who genuinely believes a good brief can make a DJ better.

A good music brief should tell a DJ who the guests are, what the venue stands for, how the day should feel and what success looks like. It should paint a picture of the atmosphere you're trying to create.

That's not only sensible.

It's good hospitality.

The brief that prompted these thoughts was actually a good one. It explained the atmosphere the venue wanted to create and, importantly, encouraged interpretation rather than rigid compliance. But it also suggested a tempo range and a musical direction.

That got me thinking.

If we've already agreed how we want guests to feel, do we really need to prescribe the musical ingredients as well?

Where I start to struggle is when the brief stops describing the destination and starts prescribing the ingredients.

"Play between 105 and 115 BPM."

"Lean towards House music."

Neither of those suggestions are unreasonable in isolation.

But together they subtly narrow the musical palette before the DJ has even arrived at the venue.

When I questioned that approach, I was told exactly what you'd hope to hear.

"It's only guidance."

And I believe that.

The problem isn't what the person who wrote the brief intended.

The problem is what happens once that brief starts filtering through an organisation.

Hospitality venues are full of brilliant people who understand operations, guest experience and service.

But many aren't music specialists, nor should they be expected to be.

So something that begins life as "just guidance" can easily become the benchmark by which DJs are judged.

If a venue manager believes the brief says "House music around 110 BPM", then the first soulful record, dub reggae track or leftfield Balearic moment can suddenly look like the DJ has gone off brief—even when they're doing exactly what experienced DJs have always done: reading the room.

That's the danger.

Guidance has a habit of becoming policy once it leaves the people who wrote it.

Before anyone reaches for the comments, let me be clear.

This isn't about clubs.

If you book me to play a club or a sunset session, I wouldn't expect a brief at all. Hopefully you've booked me because you know what I do. You know my taste, my musical identity and you trust me to deliver it.

Hospitality is completely different.

In hospitality, the guest experience is always the priority.

The music isn't there to steal the spotlight.

It's there to shape the atmosphere.

That's exactly why hospitality briefs matter.

But there's a world of difference between saying:

"We'd like guests to feel relaxed, and gently uplifted throughout the afternoon."

…and saying:

"We'd like it to lean towards House at around 110 BPM."

The first tells me where we're going.

The second starts choosing the route.

After more than thirty years DJing in Ibiza, one thing has become abundantly clear.

People don't experience music in BPM.

They experience it emotionally.

I've spent countless afternoons playing pools, terraces and hotels. Every one has been different.

It's thirty-five degrees.

Some guests are reading a book.

Others are enjoying lunch.

Someone's celebrating a birthday.

A couple are sharing a bottle of rosé.

Someone else has nodded off on a sunbed.

A few people are dancing.

Why would every single one of those guests want four hours of broadly the same tempo and musical direction?

They wouldn't.

Good hospitality DJs don't think in BPM.

We think in moments.

Maybe the session needs a touch of soul.

Maybe some Balearic / eclectic curveballs.

Perhaps a bit of Dub Reggae.

A forgotten Disco classic.

Something Brazilian.

A little Electronica.

Some House.

Or maybe none of the above.

One of the reasons I've been fortunate enough to continue receiving bookings from hotels, restaurants and hospitality venues over the years isn't because I play one particular style of music.

It's because, I'd like to think, I'm a trusted pair of hands.

Trusted to understand the brief if there is one.

Trusted to read the room, pool deck, or terrace.

Trusted to know when the music should gently step forward and when it should quietly disappear into the background.

Trusted to adapt.

Because every audience is different.

That's what experience gives you.

Judgement.

The irony is that hospitality businesses spend millions perfecting every aspect of the guest experience.

The architecture.

The lighting.

The furniture.

The menus.

The wine list.

The service.

Every tiny detail is carefully considered.

Then one of the most emotionally powerful parts of the entire experience gets reduced to a preferred BPM range and a suggested genre.

Imagine employing a chef and then handing them a document explaining exactly how much seasoning they're allowed to use in every dish.

Technically consistent?

Perhaps.

Inspired?

Probably not.

This isn't really about me.

As I move into the latter stages of my DJ career, I'm fortunate enough to be in a position where I can politely decline work that doesn't align with how I believe music should be selected.

That doesn't bother me.

What genuinely concerns me is what comes next.

If young DJs spend their careers following increasingly detailed music briefs, prescribed tempo ranges and suggested genres, when do they actually learn the craft?

When do they learn to read a room?

When do they discover that sometimes the obvious record is the wrong record?

When do they build the confidence to trust their instincts instead of a document?

Technology is brilliant.

I embrace it every day.

Streaming has given us access to more music than I could ever have imagined when I started buying vinyl.

But somewhere along the way, in parts of our industry, we've started confusing consistency with creativity.

The DJs who inspired me weren't brilliant because they stayed within a tempo range.

They were brilliant because they understood people.

They knew when to surprise you.

They knew when to hold back.

They knew when to change direction.

They knew that creating atmosphere isn't a formula.

It's an art.

I'm not against music briefs.

Far from it.

I'm against reducing musical curation to formulas.

Tell me about your guests.

Tell me about your business.

Tell me how you want people to feel.

Then trust me to do the job you've hired me to do.

Because if your music strategy can be summarised by a preferred BPM range and a suggested genre, you've started describing a playlist instead of trusting a selector.

People never leave a venue saying,

"That was a brilliant 110 BPM afternoon."

They leave saying,

"I don't know what it was about that place... but I loved the vibe."

That's the difference.

One follows a formula.

The other creates a memory.

And in hospitality, memories are the only thing guests take home.

Footnote

The views expressed in this article are entirely my own and are intended to encourage discussion about music curation in hospitality, not to criticise any individual, venue or brand.

While one recent experience prompted me to reflect on the subject, the opinions shared here have been shaped by more than three decades working in hospitality, alongside countless conversations with fellow DJs, music curators and industry professionals in Ibiza and beyond.

Every venue, every audience and every music programme is different. There is no single right approach. This article simply reflects my personal belief that human judgement, experience and the ability to read a room remain at the heart of great music selection.