If techno were a comic book, Ryan Elliott would be one of its superheroes. For the past ten years, he takes his daily run and heads to his day job in the finance department of Ford Motors. But once the sun comes down, he becomes one of America’s most popular young DJs, flying across the Atlantic or the heartland twice a month, to do what he loves.
After a high-energy, house-fueled two-hour set at the Red Bull Music Academy Stage at Movement on Saturday, Ryan [who, in the interest of disclosure, is also a friend] gave us the lowdown on what it’s really like to be a man with a double life. We began with one simple question: Since he’s no stranger to a good time and has become Luftansa’s new best friend, how the hell has he held onto his job with one of the big three?
“In my perfect world,” he says, “I’d make enough money to just be a DJ. But I am not at that stage. Even though I’ve been there for ten years, Ford still doesn’t know about the DJing. The finance organization there is so big that when you move around every two years, as I do, it’s like starting fresh. No one knows you or anything about you at all.”
While he has no problem with the “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy and has as much job security at Ford as one can have these days, however, the double life is becoming increasingly difficult to handle. The problem’s not Ford. It, he thinks, should come out okay because it was the only one of the three smart enough to secure enough loans to avoid a government bailout and the “super-restrictive,” debilitating bureaucracy that comes with it.
Instead, the problem is that he knows deep down that his future lies in music, not cars. Frequent visits to Berlin, which has become home to many of techno’s greatest names, has convinced him of that fact. “In America, we’re stuck in 1992,” he says. “This music will have its ebb and flow, but it will never be bigger in the States than it is right now. It’s just a cultural thing.
“And let’s face it. When you step out of our circles, even someone like Richie [Hawtin] is not that big. So what I like most about Berlin is not the clubs or the DJs, but that there are a whole lot of 30somethings making respectable livings as DJs, promoters or labels and getting respect for having a proper job there.”
That desire for respect is becoming increasingly important to him. Yes, he likes the press, the accolades and the perks of being a nationally ranked DJ. And he’s looking forward to taking over the reins of Spectral Sound, with his best friend, Matt Dear, the Ghostly Record division they’ve been instrumental in creating. Still, he doesn’t expect that to change the way the general public views him and his music.
“I would love for my brother and sister to love my music,” he says. “Or even if they don’t like it, they should at least understand what the concept is about.” It’s not, he continues, that difficult a concept. “I am trying to use music as a tool to create a fun environment where people will dance. To do that, I play house and techno. It’s really that simple.”
