The phrase "celebrity DJs" probably doesn't make you think "brainpower." But DJs StoneRokk and Graham Funke have weighed their brains (with help from the
The duo, in town for a gig at Felt, was taking a rare day off from a national tour and separate club residencies in LA and Vegas to go shopping. It was their first trip to Boston, and the show the night before was packed. "Boston showed us much love," said Funke, pronounced like the town you might take me to. "We'll be back."
Their first stop was Uniform in the South End. Funke was decked out in a shiny Army jacket, fingerless taupe gloves, shades, and a brown baseball cap stamped with a "G" - for Graham. (That's his real name: "son of Alex Funke, grandson of Alex Funke, great-grandson of Alex Funke.") StoneRokk (née Michael Stone) wore a natty tweed hat and tour T-shirt, his neck swathed in what looked like a red-and-white tablecloth.
"It was too freezing to wear anything stylish," Funke said apologetically.
Stone, 29, liked the recycled Freitag bags but couldn't find one with enough pockets for his needle box, headphones, Serato electronics box, and business cards.
"We're always looking for new DJ bags," he said. "We're going to have to make our own."
The friends don't usually DJ together, but this tour is all about promoting their new mix CD, "Trabajo," which is heavy on late '80s/early '90s hits like "(I Just) Died in Your Arms Tonight" and "Move This (Shake That Body)." "This revolutionizes everything. It's over," Stone boasted. The cover shows the two of them in Village People hard hats, with Funke wearing short-shorts and Stone nothing but a strategically placed tool belt.
But even naked guys need shoes, so they moved on to sneaker boutique Bodega off Mass. Ave., unfazed by the hidden entry through a grubby convenience store. "The Ghostface Killah poster was a dead giveaway," Funke said.
Stone estimated he owns more than 400 pairs of sneakers. "Pretty much my apartment is filled with records, shoes, bobbleheads, and '90210' memorabilia," he said.
He inspected a pair of orange Nikes, then put them back. A winter sale might've hurt the store's selection, he said. The pedestrian wares in the entryway - like toilet cleaner, for instance - tempted him more than the shoes. "I want to buy Jonny Fresh!" he said. At the back of the store, Funke was handing the proprietors a CD.
The men work constantly. The coming 10 days would take Funke to LA, Vegas (twice), San Francisco, New York, Austin, and Chicago. "It's like they say, DJs are the new rock stars," he said. "We drink a lot of free champagne."
And yet, over coffee and a late lunch at the homey Espresso Royale, they reflected on the downsides of their jet-set lifestyle of high-profile gigs such as Christina Aguilera's baby shower (Funke) and Demi Moore's birthday (Stone).
"Jim's Organic," Funke read from his coffee cup sleeve. In Vegas, it's all chains, he said: "There's no coffeehouse experience, there's no mom-and-pop experience."
He seemed to miss the old-school DJ scene, before all the fame and glory and money. Then there are the endless trips through airport security, a topic that prompted Funke to cite a theory about the Bush administration and terrorism by the University of Chicago's Milton Friedman. Airport screeners, they agreed, have 1-pound brains.
At their final stop, the Garment District in Cambridge, they turned their criticism back to clothes.
A reindeer sweater "would be perfect for my Christmas party next year," Stone said. A rack of party shirts would not. "This defeats the purpose of being in this store - there's four of them."
An old scale had brain-weighing potential. "Maybe we can get a rough estimate of how heavy they are," Stone exclaimed. "Just rest our head . . ."
They kept browsing. Funke found one jacket too "Members-Only-esque. Not that that's bad, but it's so six years ago for me." He prefers the Rose Bowl swap meet in Pasadena, Calif., to pre-curated vintage stores.
One pair of pants reminded Stone of his orange golf bell-bottoms. "People might think I look foolish. I don't think so."
Vintage undies, however, crossed the line. "You going to rock that?" Funke asked. He read the label: "It's been Sanfordized" - whatever that means.
Stone shook his head. "Why would you buy used underwear? That's strange."
Finally, Stone hit the jackpot: a $15 "Playboy" ascot - no bunny ears, though.
"I should buy this. I'm never going to see this again," he said. "Let's pay for these things and -"
" - and make a move," Funke finished.
"Make a move," Stone repeated.
"Make the next move the best move," said Funke.
And with that, the brainiacs headed back to Felt.
