Few DJs could embody the musical heartbeat of Downtown better than DJ Aurajin. Take any mix of people in a Fremont East or Arts District venue and Aurajin knew how to unite them through his unmistakably personal curation of urban standards. From traditional hip-hop to funk/soul chestnuts to house and electro to indie—maybe ending on a downtempo or otherwise atmospheric note—the vinyl enthusiast born Lemuel Granada could appeal to everyone at once.
And if he didn’t win you over from behind his turntables, his bear hug and wide smile would close the deal.
Downtown could use that hug and smile right now. On Monday, Aurajin passed away at UMC at the age of 38. His nephew confirmed—via a Gofundme page established to help family with Aurajin’s remaining medical expenses and funeral—that the longtime DJ suffered an aneurysm on Sunday and never recovered.
UPDATE: A memorial for friends and family will take place Saturday, March 28 from 1-5 p.m. at Velveteen Rabbit. And a fundraising event honoring Aurajin will take place Thursday, April 2 starting at 7 p.m. at Backstage Bar and Billiards, featuring DJs and performers Rex Dart, Johnny Rox, Allen Miller and more.
We’ve lost not only one of the best DJs in Downtown—good enough to be longtime member of the Get Back, Bargain DJ Collective and Rawkerz crews, a platter-flipper in the back rooms of the Griffin (where he might play A Tribe Called Quest) and Insert Coin(s) (usually Michael Jackson), a resident at Tao and an opener for Massive Attack, one of his very favorite acts—but one of its most ardent supporters. For longer than most of us, he worked and played there; he even lived there. He was one of the area’s friendliest faces. I never heard anyone speak ill of him, nor did I ever see him seethe or scowl.
And you know someone is truly beloved when you lose track of all his pet names. Aurajin. Sebastian. Pokey. His nephew wrote that the Granada family called him Weng. Sometimes I’d just call him DJ, or neighbor, back when we lived three houses apart. And when we’d occasionally hang out with certain mutual friends of ours at, say, Beauty Bar or the old Buffalo, we had another name for him, the one I like the most—the one I think of when I see or recall his joyous, bespectacled face.
Groove eternally, Seabass.
