There really isn't much more to say than that about the level of excitement and anticipation felt by Edmonton's turntablists about the upcoming DMC Canadian elimination round of the world DJ championship. But in case you're asking yourself any of the myriad questions I asked when I started looking into the event, I will say a little bit more.

On Saturday, May 2, the Rev (10030-102 St.) hosts Edmonton's very first DMC (Disco Mix Club) competition. Every year since 1983, DMC has held a worldwide competition for the revered title of DMC world champion DJ, but this is the first time a preliminary round has been held in Edmonton.

To most of us out in mainstream radio land, this doesn't mean a whole lot, but to dedicated turntablists and members of underground communities of beat-mixing and hip-hop, this is major. In fact, most of us out in radio land don't even know what the terms turntablist, beat mixing or even DJ really mean.

Local turntablists DJ Dice and DJ Roach offered their explanations last weekend, first likening the term turntablists to more generally-known terms like guitarist or saxophonist.

"We like to refer to ourselves as turntablists, because these are like our instruments and we do more than just playing the record," DJ Roach explained. "It's literally hands-on and making something into our own. Because anybody can play a record, right?"

DJ Dice continued: "Don't get us confused with techno DJs, because techno DJs, they just blend two beats that are at a similar beats per minute (pace). But I mean, that's not talent . . . Anyone can learn (that)."

"What we do is really technical stuff, body tricks," Roach concluded.

Techno DJs? Body tricks? What are these guys talking about? Well, I'll try to explain, with the help of the rules and regulations of the DMC competition.

At the DMC, each competitor gets a six-minute set to strut his or her stuff (although it's usually "his" stuff, according to the lineups at past championships in other cities). Six minutes to show the judges they excel in the areas of technical skills and tricks, creation of breakbeats, running mixes, originality and crowd reaction.

More confused? Don't sweat it. There's a lot of jargon in the sport/art of turntabling. The basics involve two turntables with a mixing board between them which controls the volume at which each turntable (or "deck") plays in the speakers. The DJ can use headphones to cue records by hearing the deck that isn't playing for the audience but, at the DMC, time is so short and DJs so advanced that Dice and Roach have taped the "cue points" on their records to maximize cue speed and eliminate headphones altogether.

There are all sorts of tricks: flaring, beat juggling, transforming and - the newest, most sought-after trick - crabbing, which is sort of a double-speed transform.

Things which may be more familiar to the unversed are the "scratch," the DJ behind the rapper, and breakdancing. These are some of the roots of turntabling, as described to me by our local representatives of the scene.

Dice: "They used to make songs so the breakers could break to them, could breakdance to them.

"When these guys were rapping, they used to rap on street corners. They just did it for fun. They didn't know it was gonna explode, they had no idea."

Roach: "Let's emphasize more on the DJing and stuff."

But, as we all know, Dice was right, and explode it did. Of course, rap music wasn't always dominated by the stereotype prevalent today of violence, sexism and materialism. In earlier days, in the "old school," it focused on being positive and keeping yourself out of gangs and drugs. It also focused more on the DJ, as one can see in old-school music videos. To take a well-known if imperfect example, just look at the title of one of Will Smith's earlier albums: He's the DJ, I'm the Rapper. Many rap and hip-hop songs even had "solos" by the DJ. And remember record scratching?

Dice: "When you scratch, that's just a part, that's a percentage of it. Because there's beat mixing, there's scratching, there's all the body tricks. I mean, there's all sorts of stuff."

Roach: "Juggling beats . . . juggling beats is fun because it's almost like playing drums on the turntables. It's like taking a snare off here and a kick off there."

Indeed, turntabling has always been closely involved with rap, and continues to be. William "Sleepy" Stewart, the guy who's organizing promotion for Edmonton's DMC competition and who is heavily involved in the local scene, is also helping promote the upcoming LL Cool J concert at the Agricom, and DJs downstairs at downtown nightclub Lush.

I suppose, in a way, snowboarders and turntablists face similar struggles. I still have to tell people that no, snowboarding's not really, really hard and yes, anyone can do it and no, it's not some forbidden sport of the deviant. Turntablists must constantly tell the inexperienced that no, a proper scratch doesn't destroy the record and yes, there is a lot more to it than randomly playing around with vinyl ("wax") on a turntable. In fact, turntabling is much like any other sport or art. To excel, a turntablist must dedicate his or her whole life to the wax.

"It's a lifestyle, man," said Roach. "DJing, it takes a lot of time. People always come to us and ask us, 'teach us!' But you can't just teach someone because it takes years. Most of my life and my spare time is spent in my basement practising.

"And it's expensive man," he added. "DJing is so expensive because you gotta replace cross-faders all the time, because they crack and they hiss and they go."

Dice expanded on the theme. "Plus, you gotta have something to hook it up to, you gotta have a stereo, you gotta have speakers, you gotta have a place to live where you can turn it up loud so you can practise."

About turntabling, the guys did their best to dumb it down to my level: "Imagine the sound going in reverse but you're cutting it also, but you do it really fast. You go reverse-forward-reverse-forward-reverse-forward, and that's what gives you the scratch," Dice said. "That's the scratch you're looking for.

"Or even when you just throw the record in but really fast, and you go tch! like a stab, and that's a scratch too. You combine them all together, because all DJs are different, they all have their styles. Sure, it's still scratching, but it's different styles. It's not just some kid messing around on the turntables."

Speaking of different styles, one major and somewhat controversial style element is body moves. A body move is turntabling normally, but doing it in a weird or funky way. Like cross-fading with your nose or scratching with your elbow. In the November 1996 Montreal DMC finals, DJ Unaware shaved off his beard between mixes and Roach's parents once thought he was smoking crack when they found him cross-fading with his crotch.

Roach: "In some competitions I've honestly seen competitors who know they're not gonna win and they should join a circus because they're only out there to impress the judges, which they should be doing in the circus. It's cool; body tricks are cool, no doubt about it, but some people go overboard."

But Sleepy says body tricks are awesome, creative, necessary and "why hold back?"

Whether they win with technical prowess or trapeze acts, the first and second-place winners here in Edmonton will compete in the Toronto-based Canadian final. From there the winner competes on Oct. 18 for the world title in Paris. That title is currently held by 15-year-old DJ A-Trak from Montreal.