From $8/hr to Multi‑Hyphenated Superstar: Jade’s Wild Ride
Jade Rasif, that Singapore DJ with a name that’s practically a headline, may be one of the highest‑paid DJs in the city, but her early days were far from glamorous. She once spun vinyl in Thai “siam dius” (those iconic discos) for a jaw‑watering $8‑$9 per hour. Imagine that!
Khunmew’s Shocking Stories
- At just 17, Khunmew landed a job that began with a thousand‑dollar tip from an elderly patron—who then started holding her on his shoulders. Talk about a rough starter’s day.
- She reveals that most entertainers pocket around $4,000 a month, but she once raked in a whopping $20,000 in one night at a club she dubbed the “China club.”
Jade’s Reality Check
When Jade spoke, she laughed at the disparity, saying she’d earn “a meagre $8 to $9 an hour” during those early gigs. She adds that she’re grateful for the truth, but she also steeled herself against the “fancier” tales.
Working Hard in the Night Shift
Jade began her deejaying journey at local clubs, clocking in around 9:30 pm and staying till the pre‑5 am hours. That’s a long night—just to get a taste of the nightlife scene that eventually grew into a multi‑hype career.
Rasif’s Mic‑And‑Money Saga
Picture this: a 28‑year‑old DJ named Rasif cruising through the neon‑lit night of Siam DiuS. She kicks off each day with a whopping $120 cash prize—yes, a whole chunk to play by day. But, just like a rollercoaster that dips right into the “agency fee” pit, 30% of that fun gets whisked away, and once you throw in the taxi fare back to her apartment, she’s left with a net of only about $8‑$9 per hour. Funny how the math works out—like a DJ spinning a track that’s got a silent beat hidden between the hits!
“No Tips, No Nods, No Negatives”
- Rasif never entertained for tips. Even if someone slid a $5,000 gift card her way, the only feedback was a polite heart‑shaped “nod”.
- She’s honest about the lack of hospitality: “I’ve never had anyone offer me a hotel room in exchange for a gig.”
- “What f irresponsible sleazy people let a minor be in this situation,” she fumed—highlighting the real sting of the gigdown.
Stressed Out on the Dance Floor
After a grueling three‑month stint at “Siam DiuS”, the hours just didn’t cut it. She decided to switch gears to clubs—but, surprise! No one ever proposed a money‑for‑entertainment or “sky‑high” proposition. She mused on one Instagram story: “Maybe nobody offered because nobody wants to sleep with me.” And that’s the cow‑pain in the sky of the event scene.
Why the Numbers Look So Dubious
From the reels of her daily grind: the day‑long salary is a nice splash, but the real business formula boils down to the agency cut (30%) + transport cost. When you slice that pie, the final bite you take is a measly $8‑$9 per hour. A tale that reminds us why “They said it’s a ‘gig’ like any other, but the reality is a near‑punk” narrative is weeping silence.
Closing Vinyl
Rasif’s journey is a shout‑out to the hidden economics behind the glittering club scene. It’s a hard‑earned lesson—every track has a hidden track of its own: the money, the fees, the real-time road trip home. In the end, we all learn that a $120 a day paycheck only ends up as a modest $8‑$9 per hour when the agenda points to actual expenses and a harrowing story of no hospitality or ‘hotel’ promises. Keep spinning those records and keep your hands in the air.
Is the experience the same across the board?
Rasif’s Eye‑Opening Look at Singapore’s Throne‑Room Scene
On a lively Instagram story spree, Rasif dug deep into the local disco culture by chatting with a handful of Thai entertainers who’ve been rocking the venues in Singapore. She turned the interview into a quick guide for anyone curious about the really “modern” side of the Siam Diu clubs.
What’s So “Nice” About the Big‑Name Clubs?
- Clean and classy. The larger establishments keep a polished vibe that’s far from the slap‑dash décor of the smaller spots.
- Mostly male DJs. The tech wizards behind the decks are almost exclusively men, making the music a disciplined affair.
- No pay‑for‑sex. The hostesses here play support roles—helping the crowd, guiding drinks, and keeping dialogue flow—without taking a dime for intimate acts.
When the energy was dialed up in the smaller venues, that was where the real drama unfolded. Many of the hostesses in those places were also sex workers, and the DJs had to juggle extra responsibilities—filling in as entertainers to keep the dance floor alive.
Why the Difference Feels Like a Reality Check
“That’s possibly why our experiences were so different,” Rasif mused, a little grin swelling at the revelation. She chuckled about the time her ex‑boyfriend had vented when she casually mentioned she’d been hosting a Siam Diu night.
Beyond the Mic: A Multitalented Life
- A DJ & an influencer. Rasif meanwhile keeps the stage alive with beats and bright captions.
- A mother. Her tiny fan army includes a four‑year‑old son who’s probably already picking up chubby fists from the ring.
- A family advocate. In a face‑to‑face chat with AsiaOne, she remembered how her mom Joyce Fong pulled her family out of a money mess.
The family’s financial rollercoaster started in 2006 when Rasif’s estranged dad, David Rasif, vanished after siphoning $11.3 million from clients. Before the green‑back exodus, he boldly convinced the family to sell an affordable HDB flat and pour the cash into a high‑priced condominium. The fallout was a resounding mortgage that felt like a million-dollar weight on Joyce’s shoulders, followed by a flood of lawsuits as the mystery of him hanging out of the country unfolded.
Rasif’s Instagram tales give a front‑row seat to the bright lights of Singaporean nightlife—where the dream of a “clean” club meets the gritty reality of smaller venues—and a backstage story of resilience that ties back to a mother’s unwavering love.
