Mochakk’s – aka Pedro Maia – charisma is a cut above the rest. In a word, it’s viral. The Brazilian artist has achieved meteoric success on TikTok through clips of his captivating live sets. His mixes expose listeners to a boundless universe of genres and styles, and his tracks are supported by the likes of Vintage Culture, Tiesto, Alesso, and Chris Lake.




When describing Maia’s music taste, open-minded would be an understatement. Growing up, he increasingly expanded the variety of music he listened to.




“I was a rock kid,” Maia explains. He loved nu-metal bands like Linkin Park, Korn, and System of a Down. “My dad was a big fan of rock music, and he used to show me these bands and all these videos when I was like five or six. I’d ask him to put fake tattoos on me and paint my hair green with a big mohawk.”




It wasn’t just rock though. Maia’s dad played a crucial role in influencing Maia’s music taste. He introduced Maia to a broad spectrum of genres. “He’s a big music nerd. He’s a rock guy, but he’s also a blues guy [and] a jazz guy.”




Maia started playing the guitar when he was six years old. As he got older, his music taste broadened. “My mom was a big [fan of] disco and ‘70s funk and soul… new wave, UK ‘80s pop.” The harmonies and chord progressions in these genres laid the foundation for Maia’s passion for house music.




Hip-hop and skateboarding culture are intrinsically linked, and when Maia began skateboarding, it opened him up to the world of soulful hip-hop and ‘90s rap. Realizing that this music was sample-based led him down a rabbit hole of music discovery. So he went online to learn how to produce. “And then it all began... I started trying to make some beats and trying to re-make some beats that I liked. Trying to recreate the drum patterns… timbres.”









Brazilian dance music heroes like Vintage Culture, Alok, and Illusionize inspired Maia to produce Brazillian Bass. A sound that expanded beyond regional trends and made superstars out of its originators, he argues that these producers each had their unique style and sound.




“The reason I started listening to those guys is because [of] one of my friends. He was already a DJ. He had a party for underage people at my city at a club called Pink Elephant.”




The Pink Elephant is where he got his introduction to being behind the decks.








“Every day at school at lunchtime, he would take us to the club so we could practice on the club setup. I would practice there with him all week, so I would be able to play with him at the party on the weekend. That’s when I started playing house music and DJing.” Maia would play warmup sets at Pink Elephant, welcoming people in with deep and jazzy house tunes.




When he was 17, Maia went to an event that irreversibly ignited his love for dance music. He used a fake ID to sneak into a small outdoor party at a campsite. The pool was covered to form a dancefloor, and the lineup included Kyle Watson, Mala, Justin Martin, and RDT.




“It was a dope lineup, a dope place. That party changed my life. The vibes were insane. People would scream their asses off and dance like crazy.”




Around the same time, his father’s musical influence came back into view. Maia’s dad encouraged him to attend music production school at 18, which was central in exposing Maia to new music. Maia worked with a funk band, an emo rock artist, and an R&B singer.




“I think the music education came more from my dad, but the taste… came more from my mom.” Today, most of the music that Maia listens to, outside of electronic, is ‘70s funk, soul, and disco – the same genres that his mom brought him up on.




For a while, Maia primarily focussed on a career in fashion and produced music in his free time. However, when he released “Dong” in 2018, Maia started getting requests to DJ across Brazil.




“I started to lose the Friday classes, and I started to not be able to execute that well in fashion school.” Realizing that he didn’t want to give up on music, Maia decided to quit fashion school and pursue music as a full-time career. “I think it was the best decision I ever made.”




While he began to achieve success, he still struggled with seeing music in a modular way and falling into the dangerous trap of comparison. “That’s really frustrating and anxiety-driving as well. That can lead you to many [negative] thoughts.”




Maia sees this as unavoidable and perpetual, so his solution is to focus on his achievements and improvements. “What keeps me from getting boggled too much is looking back and listening to my old tracks, knowing that I’ve evolved and that the quality is much better now. You’re always getting better.”




Maia is arguably the first DJ and producer to achieve dramatic success on TikTok. His first post, which captured a snippet of one of his charismatic live sets, went viral and now has over 10 million views.




“I didn’t have the intention to make it happen that way! I posted that video because I saw a John Summit tweet! John Summit tweeted, ‘If you’re an aspiring DJ and you’re not on TikTok you’re wasting your time, because it’s the only platform that permits you to go viral without having a previous following.’” Following Summit’s advice proved to be astronomically beneficial for Maia’s career.









“I had 180 followers on TikTok the moment I posted it… I went for lunch, and then when I got back from lunch, it was 130,000 views. I was like, ‘What the hell is happening here?!’”




Part of the video's magic is that it’s natural and unrehearsed. “I’ve always played like that, and I’ve made videos like that before!” Maia used to breakdance and is well-versed in synching his dance moves to small, almost imperceptible elements of tracks.




Another core tenant of breakdancing is bravado and confidence, both traits that he expresses in his performance style.




“I’m not a confident guy when it comes to other stuff at all. But when it comes to showing music to people, I’ve always been really excited about it. The excitement makes me seem like I’m a really confident guy!”









Maia loves the music he listens to and wants to share that love with others. He feels that dancing helps to bring expression and life to music, which works exceptionally well in engaging audiences with genres that they’ve never listened to or usually avoid.




His career aspirations may be surprising, given his viral success. “I don’t think I want to be a huge-ass, giant, Ultra pop star DJ. I don’t think that’s my goal. I want to play in venues that I think are cool and artsy, have a good concept behind [them], and show people good music.”









He hopes to grow a unique community that avoids trends and prioritizes inclusivity. He hopes to create a space for events that allow for the kind of musical exploration that has made him such a diverse and intriguing artist. Whether it's a multi-room, multi-genre house music festival or a 2000-person ‘70s boogie party in Sao Paolo, nothing is off the table.




Maia’s dedication to his craft is uncompromising and admirable. “If I earn enough money to pay my house bills, keep on DJing, and keep on working on music, then that’s fine! I don’t want to be a super-giant… billionaire playing in Kanye West’s house, I don’t need that! I’m okay playing in venues that I think are cool.”

Mochakk

Chloé Caillet has turned house music into her travelog. The DJ, producer, and multi-instrumentalist just touched back down in Ibiza after two weeks on tour. From her mini farmhouse home in the middle of a forest, she sits on the floor for a chat with Gray Area while her cat lounges behind and her husky pup Cosmo orbits next to her. 

“I spend my life on the road touring, meeting people. I’m around lots of different types of energies and noise.” Caillet explains. “It’s loud, which I love so much about my job. But I find when I’m able to come back and retreat to a place where there’s nature and you wake up to birds and trees. I feel a little bit more clarity, and I definitely sleep better.” 

It’s not exactly what dance music fanatics think of when they imagine Ibiza, but she enjoys a balance of the busy summers and quiet winters. Having grown up around major cities with heavy dance music scenes, she appreciates the diversity the island has to offer. 

Caillet was born and raised in New York City and moved to Paris at 11 years old. Her journey as a musician began when she was seven with classical piano lessons. By 16, she knew for sure she wanted to pursue music. So, she studied jazz piano at a conservatory in the UK for high school. 

Her passion is crystal clear: “I was so determined. There was nothing else. It was just music every day, all day. Whether it was listening to records, going to shows, playing in a band, writing songs, learning a new instrument, hanging around artists – everything was about music.”

“I sort of got expelled from school,” Caillet continues nonchalantly. The rebellious teenager taught herself guitar and songwriting while stuck at home. “It drove my parents nuts to the point where they were like, ok, that’s all she thinks about. That’s the only thing we’re going to do. Convincing your parents you’re going to be a musician isn’t an easy thing,” she says. 

At 19, she went back to New York for college and joined prog-rock bands playing keys. After graduating university, she worked in A&R at Universal Records. She launched a creative agency as she searched for her place in the industry before finally leaping into being an artist. 


Caillet remembers thinking, “I know a lot of DJs, I know a lot of bookers, I know a lot of club owners. I’m just going to start DJing because it’s something I can do.” Before she even gained the skills to DJ, Caillet had already booked her first gig.  


“I basically picked up a set of decks, brought them home, called a friend and said, ‘hey can you come over and teach me? I got a gig next week,’” she says coolly.  


Caillet’s initial entry to electronic music was through a DJ friend who showed her the minimal house sound coming out of France. “I grew up in Paris around the Ed Banger music scene. I used to listen to drum & bass and dubstep and house music. I remember being blown away [not just] by the simplicity of it but how strong it was.” She later moved to Bristol, a city steeped in bass music culture. Her life was flooded with D&B and dubstep. 


Daft Punk’s Homework was the defining album for Caillet. She always loved French touch and, to this day, is impressed with the underrated music coming out of the strong yet intimate Paris scene. 


“I was brought in by friends but then I always did my own research, went to raves, bought CDs, downloaded music, watched YouTube videos… I digested all of it,” she says. 


Three years ago, she dove into Ableton, considering it sample-friendly and full of dope stock plugins. Whether laying down a melody on live instruments or hearing a perfect funk sample, Caillet almost always starts a track in a different place. The depths of her knowledge allow her to improvise and feel the freedom that comes with trusting her musical instincts. 


“I’m investing in hardware and running it through really good preamps – really focusing on nailing the sound before it even hits Ableton. That’s what makes you special: when you have specific synths you fuck with… that’s how you build your sound,” Caillet says. 

She records samples on the go, carrying a Zoom H2N recorder to collect the urban soundscape of traffic, the ocean, or a conversation in a different language. Caillet says, “Every city has its own sound. Every taxi has its own honk.” 

House music culture is all-encompassing in how it touches on art, fashion, and community. They collectively build upon spaces and sounds that allow LGBTQI+ and people of color to feel at home. Caillet says, “Let’s be honest – gay crowds for me are the best. Queer parties so far have been some of my favorite gigs because I feel safe and included.” She also lets her girlfriend lead her creative direction.


Five years ago marked the beginning of PVBLIC XCESS, a collective with Josh Ludlow. Their first EP releases in April. Her ethos is simple: create the best parties ever. 

“There’s nothing better than a good dance party where everyone is united,” Caillet says. 

Caillet released the deep house single “LOVE AIN’T OVER” and a subsequent remix EP for this satisfyingly groovy track that invites you to the dancefloor. As PVBLIC XCESS, Caillet and Ludlow just dropped “Don’t Wanna (Get Down)” featuring Pat Kalla on their outlet XCESS Records. The collab sizzles with elements of disco, funk, and acid with melodic vocals that are playfully rhythmic. 

Caillet doesn’t take this lifestyle for granted. “We were so fortunate to live such amazing lives and travel the world and do what we love. You have to also take care of your body and your mind. And there’s a lot of depression, there’s a lot of anxiety in the music industry that is unspoken about,” she says. 

Caillet immerses herself in sound baths and uses techniques like tapping and meditation to reset her internal rhythms and achieve better mental health. Most of all, she reminds herself, “Don’t be afraid. Do what you want to do.” 

Interview by Ryden (@officialryden) / Words by Aurora Zboch (@symphette)




Chloé Caillet

San Francisco-based DJ & Producer Spencer Brown is a true visionary at heart. Not afraid to challenge "the system," his sole purpose in life is to create whatever he wants, for the love of music. This mentality has played a considerable role in his success, especially with his most recent announcement. Ready to take on the next step of his career, Spencer Brown has officially launched diviine his own artist label. But how did his journey lead him to his biggest achievement yet?

"Music has always been my number one passion," he tells Gray Area.

Born with music coursing through his veins, Spencer Brown picked up the drums and other instruments at only two years old. About a decade later, he dabbled with producing hip hop beats. But, before he entered the realm of house music, he explored the opposite side of the musical spectrum: dubstep. 

"Early dubstep really inspired me to make electronic music...it was really inspiring to see people coming together."

Even at 14, Brown got major support for his early dubstep tunes from artists like Rusko. He had started to hone in on his progressive house sound by high school. And after Avicii played one of his tracks on his podcast, Spencer Brown knew he found his calling. 

However, his journey wasn't necessarily a breeze. In 2020, he came out as gay via an op-ed for Billboard. Although he faced many challenges along the way, he knew the dance music community would greet him with open arms after he made the announcement. 

"Dance music has always been my safe haven since I was a teenager," Brown explains. "I just really think it's important for me to come out publicly so I can be someone to look up to, for people who are really struggling. I never had someone to look up to who was gay."

Beyond being a role model, Brown also strives to remain faithful to his principles and values in everything that he does. "I think the more authentic you can be," he says, "the better your music is."

In addition to representing the LGBTQ+ community, Spencer Brown advocates breaking musical barriers. Unable to be classified by a single genre, his receptive mindset drives his diverse musical style. 

"I would say my sound is a progressive journey through house, deep, techno, trance, just a little bit of everything kind of mingled together."

Brown is a jack of all trades, with a sound that gorgeously weaves together the multi-colored fabrics of house music. Although he's released music on prominent labels such as Anjunadeep, Last Night on Earth, Factory93, and mau5trap, he's never bound himself to a single organization. 

He also avoids making "playlistable" or stream-friendly tracks. Instead, longer tracks (seven or more minutes) resonate with him as a listener. His label allows him to operate outside the traditional model, releasing music with no boundaries. 

"I want the music to be divine on the label, like I want that to define the music...I want every release to be phenomenal, something that I would play out all the time, something of extremely high quality. I'm not going to be doing that many releases… I'm really going to be focusing on finding the very best music that I've made, and my friends, and keep it very, very exclusive, very high quality."

The official launch of diviine comes with its debut double-sided release, "Forbidden Flow / 18 Min Loop." 

"Forbidden Flow" showcases Brown's ability to create an emotional journey through music. Listeners are greeted with a dark, ominous techno track that transitions into a softer, progressive vibe. 

"Music needs a yin and yang…even if it's a really happy light song, there should be some darkness in there too. I'm a very happy person. I live a great life. But there's definitely dark periods and darkness from [my] upbringing that you can't just ignore. So I think it's important to have dark and light in music."

Every song has its unique writing process. When producing "Forbidden Flow," Spencer recalls it was an effortless experience. 

"I ended up chopping up some vocal I had on my computer, made an interesting pattern, wrote some chords…I chopped up some other group elements from other stuff I had lying around. And then I didn't even know that a track was made. At the end of the night, I went to listen to the project, and I was like, yeah, this is pretty sick. So it was really low pressure. But the best music I think is written in low-pressure environments."

"18 Min Loop" clocks in at precisely 18 minutes long. It acts as a work that's "frozen in time," recalling an era when there was no need for DJs and producers to conform to industry standards. A time in club culture where there were no rules on the length of tracks. 

"Apple Music, Spotify, stuff like that, their algorithms and their editors are not going to support an 18 minute track, but I know putting that out, I'm already aware of that. And so I know, it's not going to "stream very well" or whatever. Honestly, for me, creative freedom is more important than catering to what people are looking for."

You may think it would take countless hours to produce a masterpiece of this magnitude, but for Spencer Brown, it took quite the opposite. 

"I opened up Logic and I just kind of remember it took maybe like an hour or two…so in one sitting, I made the whole track. But I didn't even think it was a track that I would release because it was long…and then I was like, you know what, I'm gonna put that as the second track on my first EP because I don't care."

Both of these tracks shed light on Brown's core values. By having complete creative freedom with his label, he now has a platform to share his beliefs with the rest of the dance music community. In the end, diviine has one ultimate goal; to give power back to the artists. 



Spencer Brown

The collective shock and subsequent loss of all in-person social channels during the pandemic was a life-changing moment for everyone. For Belarusian melodic techno artist, Lacularis, it plunged her deep into her darkest emotions and offered a path to transcend them. And, with less than two years of experience, the classically trained musician has entered the world of dance music with the purest intentions. Her budding catalog of emotive, starkly beautiful music has landed on labels like Natura Viva Black and Androgyne Audio.

For someone with so much evident inborn talent, it's surprising to hear that music was not a part of her home life as a child. "I never heard my parents really listen to music at all. I know they reading books, watching movies, but I never heard them listening to music."

Despite the sonic silence at home, her mother insisted she enroll in a music school to get proper classical training. She excelled at piano and dobro, an acoustic guitar with a metal resonator built into the instrument's body. The strict discipline gave her an aversion to classical music, and for most of her life, she enjoyed hard rock and metal.

That is until she moved to China at 20 years old, where she says she didn't listen to much music at all.

When she was 20, she led a successful and pioneering VR company in Belarus. Sales were great, and the government showed interest in her product. But in 2014, a staggering financial crisis swept her country, leading to a devaluation of the Belarusian ruble of over 30%.

It became more difficult to import supplies to sustain her business. "We couldn't really buy dollars. And all the suppliers on the companies were connected with currency because everything that we sell came from abroad."

At the same time, she was facing a personal crisis of her own. "The other reason, why I escaped from this country [was] because I had to get married. And honestly, I just was scared," she explains. "So, I closed my business. And I ran away to China. China was the first country that I found on the map. And I stayed there for five years."

For five years, she called China home. And by chance, she was on a short trip back to Belarus in January of 2020 to update her passport when the border to China was closed. As it dawned on her that she may not be returning home to China (and her lovely dog) anytime soon, she entered a deep depression.

She was born in Belarus, but she felt like a stranger after being gone for so long. "I have no friends here. I have no career. It was really difficult because I didn't know what to do next. It's complicated in your mind to accept it. And I needed to express my feelings, my sadness, anxiety. And I found music."

When she says that music saved her life, she means it. It pulled her out of the first depression of her life and gave her a newfound purpose. The same ambition that propelled her to start a business and move to China motivated her to seek help from a newfound community in the music industry to help her on her journey.

She says that she continues to make music because she feels that expressing herself this way can break the stigma around mental health issues. "I want to make music. I want to express my feelings. In Russia, nobody really cares about mental health. Nobody can understand you."

And now, with her newfound purpose, she's stopped pinning for a return to China. After spending over a year so mentally distraught over her situation, she's learned that the greater reward was discovering her inborn talents and nurturing them. As a result, she has no desire to return to her previous life.

As she continues to reconnect with her childhood musical training, she also wishes to reconnect with her childhood traditions of travel.

"When I was a kid, my parents always took me on trips with them. I fell in love in with trains and airports. People around you, always exploring something new. It's just a priceless experience. It's romantic."

Lacularis truly believes she can change the world with music. In 2020 she was vocal about her opposition to the arrest of Palestinian DJ Sama' Abdulhadi. She says that while she often prefers to let her music do the talking, artists' power to move the needle is undeniable. And when there is an issue that requires your voice, you must speak up.

Lacularis

Striking the perfect balance between the codified classics and what’s en vogue can be a test for any artist. For French-born DJ, producer, and composer Kevin Rodrigues—aka Worakls (pronounced “warrackles”)—that challenge comes in an even more literal form. With inspirations from German composer Hans Zimmer to dubstep maestro Skrillex, Worakls combines the vivacity of classical orchestral concertos with the ethereality of modern, minimal techno.

Worakls built his career on this unique musical amalgamation that has captivated audiences worldwide. He grew up in a family of musicians. His father, a self-taught guitarist, motivated his musical path – enrolling Worakls in piano lessons at the age of three and conservatory at the age of six.

“Conservatory was so different. Much stricter,” he says. “Even the first year I went there, they told me, ‘No, you’re not going to touch a piano for one or two years.’ But I was already able to play the piano. So, for me, it was weird – and I didn’t stay there for a long time.

Formal lessons lasted until the age of 12, giving way to more typical pre-teen musical pursuits: garage bands, metal music, and, later, nightlife. 

“At first, I fell in love with harder style, hard stuff. I was getting out a teenage passion for metal music and those things. I loved it because it was full of energy,” he says. “Later, I fell in love with the [club] community as well. Going into the club and seeing people dressing in a different way than they would dress in the streets. I found it very interesting. So, I started to go clubbing every weekend, and eventually I even got a job at the club because I needed money to pay the entrance fees.”

“One weekend, I saw Eric Prydz play,” Worakls says, reflecting on a formative set at Redlight, the Paris club where he worked. Whereas other DJs tended to spin mostly chart-toppers, Prydz, he says, constructed an entirely new world out of his original tracks.

“First of all, I thought, this guy is incredibly talented. And second, Prydz brings us into his world. He’s not just playing tracks that we already know by heart. He plays his own stuff.” At this moment, Worakls knew he was destined for a career in electronic dance music.

“That was the beginning of a very nice adventure.”

That adventure has led Worakls to the leading edge of sonic experimentation in EDM. But blending digital sounds with classical instrumentation posed a challenge all its own and forced Worakls to relearn the intricacy of composition altogether.

“I think like a pianist,” he says. “Writing for guitars, basses, drums, et cetera, taught me a lot of things. When I decided that I wanted to bring orchestral and classical instruments into my music, I had to learn again, how to do it. Some instruments are very specific. You can’t blow in a trumpet for hours, for example, the guy has to breathe – those are the details I had to learn.”

That adventure has led Worakls on several tours throughout the U.S. and Europe. One of his most prolific was his 2019 Orchestra tour. He composed the score for a chamber orchestra consisting of violinists, cellists, percussionists, and an ensemble of brass and woodwinds players with, of course, Worakls conducting at the helm on keyboard and mixer. 

His studio album “Orchestra” was the inspiration. In venues and amphitheaters in cities including Geneva, Lyon, and his thrilling Cercle debut at Château La Coste orchestral harmonies floated overtop of vibrant, expressive electronic melodies.

“That tour is the ultimate version of my life. I want to do it, like, every day. That’s my goal: to only do live shows with the orchestra,” he says. “I like solo shows, but it’s not the same. Once you taste the show with the filmography, lights, it’s like defending something, really. Like a movie. Like a book. It’s a whole project. It’s not just like going to a club. You are presenting something, like, ‘Here’s what I did for the past three years.’”

“Of course, it’s a show. So,you need sometimes to have, let’s say, beautiful string parts overlapped with a big drop of only electronic music. And you have to find the right balance to surprise your crowd and keep them interested.” 

Balance was something that took him years to perfect. It remains an ongoing test for any live show he plays, even in a club environment.

“You know what is hard? When you bring an instrument on stage, you don’t know where to put the filler. You don’t know if you want to have more electronic music or classical instrumentation. A lot of these guys just want to go to a club and dance. Some others want to have a concert. So, you have to find the right balance between the two. And, of course, I didn’t find that right away. I worked for that.”

Worakls learned from his first tour how to create a perfectly harmonious experience. And plans are already in the works for a 2.0 version of his Orchestra tour. 

“Electronic with a full orchestra?” questioned one YouTube commenter. “This may be one of the greatest collaborations of all time.”

Worakls

The concepts of songwriting and producing often intertwine in the world of electronic music. Artists who champion the genre are generally referred to as "producers," because they build a track from the ground up, but in this process, they also engage in songwriting.

Elderbrook, on the other hand, is a songwriter who engages in production. This core difference allows him to alternate between indie and electronic soundscapes with such precision and grace.

Elderbrook—real name Alexander Kotz— always takes a songwriter's approach. Whether he is writing lyrics for vocal features like the now-infamous charting record "Cola," with Camelphat, or building a song from the ground up as he did on his early hit "Rewinding." It always starts with the acoustic guitar.

"As soon as I learned three chords I just started writing. I always wanted to write," Kotz tells Gray Area over Zoom from his home in the UK.

To further understand how songwriting is essential to Kotz's approach, it's important to understand the differences between songwriting and producing.

Songwriting refers to creating the core elements of a song. Melody, chord progressions, lyrics. The fundamental aspects that allow a song to be performed through any number of different applications. 

Like when Kotz covered "You're The One That I Want" from the musical Grease during one of his Hotel Room Sessions. He took the core elements and repurposed them to fit his style. 

Producing involves the layers that come on top of those core elements. The polish. The finishing touches. Once the foundation is in place, production implements sound design, effects, mixing, etc. That's what makes the song inimitable by another artist.

Kotz was happy to write songs with some of the most basic core elements imaginable in the beginning days of his artistry. From a young age, he wanted to be in bands, so he taught himself acoustic guitar.

To this day, the acoustic guitar can serve as a foundation of his writing process even though his sound has long since shifted from the acoustic, Mumford & Sons, aesthetic he initially wanted to write.

"There's always a guitar just lying around my house and whenever I walk past it I pick it up and mess around with the same three chords I always used to play as well," Kotz says.

The shift towards the more electronic sound came after Kotz broke away from the idea of being in a band and wanted to be a solo artist. Like with the guitar, he is self-taught on his preferred DAW, Logic Pro. However, unlike the guitar, Logic Pro, synthesizers, and production, in general, have so much less structure. The entire piece of music can change with the twist of a knob. It's an endless universe of exploration, and Kotz dove in headfirst.

At the time of this shift, house music was all the rage, so being a newly minted solo artist, he wanted to try his hand at it.

"I went in and what I was trying to accomplish I got absolutely nowhere near, but it still sounded OK, and that was the song called "Rewinding," which was the first thing I put online that went a little bit viral," Kotz says. "I really did not try to make that tune at all. I was definitely trying to make something else. I'd like to think the reason why my sound was original when I first started doing electronic music was simply because I had no idea what I was doing."

Kotz may not have known what he was doing with the synthesizers at first, but his talent for singing and writing lyrics served as the connective tissue holding his productions together. While his debut EP, Simmer Down, was still very much in the indie realm, the EP also included a heavily electronic remix of "How Many Times" from the German melodic techno outfit andhim. 

In that one release, Kotz demonstrated his ability to transfer his voice seamlessly between genres, and this versatility stems from his upbringing as a songwriter. 


"I rarely start with the vocals. It's mainly the track first, and then when it comes to doing the vocal I mumble things that I think, phonetically speaking, would fit in with what's already there," Kotz says. "Not that it doesn't mean anything, but then when it sounds like something I try and figure out what it sounds like. And once it sounds like one phrase, I see how we can delve deeper into that with the lyrics surrounding that."

Beyond writing his own work, this separation between writing vocals and writing the music has allowed Kotz to collaborate on several massively impressive vocal features as well. He's contributed his voice to music from Black Coffee, Rudimental, but by far, his most well-known vocal feature is "Cola," with Camelphat.

Currently, "Cola" has over 225 million plays on Spotify, reached number one on Billboard's Dance Club Songs chart in November 2017, and was nominated for Best Dance Recording at the 2018 Grammy Awards.

When Kotz set down to write the lyrics and vocal melody to "Cola," Camelphat already had the music finished, which fit right into his creative process, and so all he had to do was start mumbling to the music. When that process begins, an image begins to form in Kotz's mind…

"Whenever I'm thinking about lyrics for a song I always have an image in my head. Almost a music video, but not really a music video. More of a scene. A scene from a film. I can really picture it vividly, and once I have the scene, that really helps me understand what the song is about," Kotz says.

With this in mind, the widely eclectic sonics and lyrical messages within the music of Elderbrook become immensely intriguing. What sort of mumbling was he doing before he devised the shuddering hook in "Numb"? What image was in his head for "Inner Light," his swelling dance ballad with Bob Moses?

The listeners only get the end product of this fascinating process, but they can at least be comforted to know that Kotz is not going to stop writing songs any time soon. Currently, he's sitting on hundreds of different songs he wrote over the past two years of the pandemic, and he resolves to continue in the direction of electronic music.




Elderbrook

With a glistening discography and collaborations with dance music pioneers, Supernova - aka Giacomo Godi and Emiliano Nencioni - have finessed a classic house sound of their own through decades of experimentation. Born and based in Florence, Italy, the duo proudly founded three labels - Lapsus Music, Downtown Underground, and Blackboard. They have performed at some of the world's most celebrated venues and festivals, including elrow, BPM, Ministry Of Sound, Space (Ibiza and Miami), and Tenax (Italy). 

Despite being born in the '70s, the music of the '80s had the most considerable influence on the duo. The first band that Godi can remember loving is Duran Duran. 

"Of course, all the music that you listen to as a child… eventually influences you. In our first album, we did a cover of Duran Duran' Save A Prayer.'" In the late '80s, when house and techno were first emerging in Chicago and Detroit, the pair began DJing and producing.





The duo's friendship has a long history. They grew up together and shared the same friends from a young age. Nencioni recalls that the concept of Supernova started because of a party they both went to. "I was DJing… We used to speak about music [and] our projects. I was starting a new project with a club in Florence. I invited Giacomo to [see if he wanted to] do these projects together." 

After visiting Godi's studio in Milan, the pair began producing music together and decided to join forces for good. 

"And here we are after almost 20 years," Godi concludes. "Next year is our 20th anniversary. We've [got the idea] of releasing an album in 2023, but first we have to produce it." They're also planning a tour off the back of the album release. 





Godi and Nencioni first fell in love with dance music thanks to 'The Godfather of house' himself, Frankie Knuckles. His track, "Your Love," which they bought on vinyl in 1988, remains one of their all-time favorites. 

Now, for Godi, being a DJ has become conflated with social media presence. "A DJ career is not only about DJing, or music… it's maybe half about social media, or maybe [even] more than half…You can be a 'pop star' DJ today if you are really good with social media, but that's another job."

The first track that Supernova produced was one of the tracks included on Afterbeach, their first album. Godi explains that while they're unsure which one it was, Afterbeach encompassed all of their earliest productions. 





"We were in a studio in Milan… At that time, we were using Logic. The fun thing is that we were using a synth… that is from Novation, and it's called Supernova." It's this synth that gave the duo their iconic name. 

Over the years, Supernova have churned out an incredible quantity of brilliant remixes for some of the world's most accomplished artists. Godi believes that a critical breakthrough moment came 15 years ago. "We had the chance to remix a track by Kerri Chandler that did very well. It was played by tons of DJs. Kerri is one of our favorite DJs." In the same year, they flew to London to work on a major project with Defected Records, culminating in mixing Defected's coveted Miami in The House compilation.





In 2012, the pair were asked to remix "The Whistle Song," a legendary house track by the Chicago mastermind, Frankie Knuckles. In a world saturated with house music producers, it's Supernova's fresh approach to remixing that has continually caught the eye of legendary artists. Godi says the best approach to remixing a classic track is translating its biggest element to the new generation. "We were able to give a different and new vibe to a big hit without moving too far from it, without ruining it. I think this is the goal of a remixer."

For Nencioni, another breakthrough moment in their career came in 2009, with their first label, Lapsus Music. "[The label] allowed us to create a real Supernova music scene because we could share all the music we wanted. I think from that moment, a new Supernova era started. It was really important for us." Today, the pair are living the dream. They own three music labels and a publishing company, which allows them to release music from a broader range of genres than house alone. 





In 2010, Supernova released a massive hit with the Detroit legend Kevin Saunderson, one of the pioneers of Detroit techno. "We first released the record without meeting him," Godi recalls. "We took a sample from a library that we had, that wasn't just a small sample. We didn't realize that it was part of a Kevin Saunderson record. Kevin, at the beginning, was a little bit upset about this because we didn't clear the sample." After re-releasing the record as with Saunderson credited, the duo developed a great relationship with the iconic producer and have played together in New York. 

Nencioni highlights the pair's work with other members of the Saunderson family. "His son, [Dantiez Saunderson], released on Lapsus too… and we've had several collaborations with Ann Saunderson… So, we've collaborated with all the family! We feel like part of the family."





Part of Supernova's individuality stems from their innovative live setups, which have shifted significantly. They started as some of the first artists to experiment with doing a live set in a club with real instruments. 

"I was coming from a live, studio [background]," Godi explains, "and [Emiliano] was a DJ… We were going into clubs with thousands of keyboards, mixers…every gig was a mess in the beginning." The duo soon found that sticking to a rigid, pre-prepared set of tracks was ill-suited to a club setting; for them, live shows worked better at festivals. 

"We started to do this mixed thing between DJing and a live set… we moved to using decks, and Ableton, so basically we were playing music from decks, and at the same time adding on live percussion or playing some small live synth lines, or playing our tracks from Ableton as well." Nowadays, Godi and Nencioni generally stick to standard DJ sets but plan on incorporating both DJ sets and live performances into their 2023 album tour. 





With a wealth of experience and wisdom, Godi and Nencioni are well-placed to reflect on how the Italian electronic music scene has changed over the years. Nencioni argues that, during the '90s, the Italian scene was one of the best in the world. 

"Now, maybe it's not the best… [but I still] think we have good spots, good festivals, and good clubs these days." The industry has transformed in tandem with the growth of the internet and social media. 





COVID hit the Italian electronic scene hard, but nevertheless, Godi remains optimistic about the future. "Maybe now it's a new beginning… for the club scene in Italy. One of the things that I think the Italian scene doesn't have, or hasn't been able to do, compared to other scenes… is to make a really Italian scene and export it around the world, like for example the UK does, or Amsterdam." 

For Godi, Italy has always been and continues to be home to tons of great Italian producers and DJs. "But we haven't been able to set a trend. We always take trends from outside." Nencioni also sees this as a political issue. "In Italy we have more restrictions than the UK or Berlin, so it's not easy to develop a good culture for the young generation, or for investors. It's difficult to evolve with these kinds of limits."




Supernova

Ammo Avenue – aka Sebastian Paul – sits in his studio with a customized Funko Pop! of himself on the speaker. He resides in his hot hometown Lima, Peru, where he champions its small but flourishing dance music scene. 

"I think we're at our best time right now." he says, looking back on a decade of local dance music shows. "Compared to when I started going to raves in 2012-13, you can tell it's grown so much in terms of scene, production, crowd, and franchises that now come that didn't come before."





Ammo Avenue is a straight shooter in tech house. His beats have let him reach Rawthentic, Deeperfect, Repopulate Mars, and, as he's most excited for, Chris Lake's label Black Book. 

He beams, "Sharing a booth with some of these names, being on the labels and them knowing my name, writing and contacting me… it's still a little bit surreal but it was what I was looking for."

When he was younger was moved by punk rock and hip hop. His brothers shared their musical tastes with him, listing off rappers Eminem, 2Pac, and 50 Cent. While he grew up surrounded by music, he didn't dream of making it in the industry until after he first studied publicity and advertising. Now, he lives and breathes house and is a self-professed music addict. 

"I didn't see music or DJing as a proper career. You dig deeper, and realize it's actually a full time thing," Ammo Avenue says. 





"You think of money, you think of time, you think of your personal stress." When it comes to  hard work towards a dream, he says, "if you want one to properly blow up, you have to let the other one go." 

"It was a natural transition," he continues. "I studied and worked in advertisement agencies parallel to DJing and involving myself more into house music. I had to decide which one I wanted to blow up, which one needs to have more attention, and I had to let the other one go." For Ammo Avenue, it was critical to carefully plan and take it slow.  

He first discovered the world of dance music at house parties during high school. He recalls the key moment when he first heard Tocadisco's remix of "Body Language" by M A N D Y and Booka Shade. 

The first festival Ammo Avenue attended was Creamfields 2014 in Lima. Around that same time, he started playing parties and developing his artistic identity as a house producer. He downloaded and promptly deleted Ableton before getting serious and giving production a real shot. With the help of his cousin and friends, he learned the musical skills that led him to where he is today. 





He's a proud DJ of the digital era, happy to travel with simply his USBs and headphones. He respects any road to making the dream of being on stage come true. "I love all setups. If it works for you, it works for you," he says. 

Ammo Avenue's earliest releases were in the realms of nu-disco and G house. He developed his current sound by "Being more mature about my style and realizing I don't want to follow short-term trends," he says. "Instead I want to make timeless music – tech house, deep house and house fell into that." 





As much love and sincerity that go into a track, most artists look back and call their first works "trash." But when fans have gone back to Ammo Avenue's early music and said they loved it, he can't shoot them down. "If they're feeling it, it's for a reason." 

With newfound confidence, Ammo Avenue is pushing his signature house spices to other aspiring producers. Recently, he released a sample pack with sounds that continue to appear in his upcoming tracks. Crisp hi-hats, far-out flips, and tight bass grooves are Ammo Avenue's way into house. He also launched his own production course. 





"What I love about sampling – I don't just drag and drop, I try to make something different out of it," he says. "You cannot get too purist about some stuff. Everybody can access a 909 hat, so it depends on you." 

While only at the beginning of his artistic journey, Ammo Avenue looks forward to his European debut in the near future. He plans to tour more of South America, then explore Central and North America. He'll soon be releasing more tracks through Repopulate Mars and Syracuse Music. The rest of his success will arrive in due time. 

"Don't rush. It applies to everything," Ammo Avenue shares. "Everything happens for a reason."
 


Interview by RYDEN 


Ammo Avenue

Miami-based DJ and producer Malóne has been a key fixer in the Miami house scene for the past few years, throwing parties and putting out releases under his Hurry Up Slowly brand. With his latest release sitting at the top of the Beatport and Traxsource Afro house charts, his rise looks set to continue. We called him up to hear about his journey so far and what’s coming next. 

Malóne’s earliest musical memories, growing up in Miami in the ’80s and ’90s, reflect his Cuban roots. “Salsa was always a huge thing in our household,” he tells us. “It was literally every day, the only thing I’d listen to. Salsa and the Bee Gees, because my mother listened to the Bee Gees and only the Bee Gees when we were in the car.” 





These twin threads of disco and Latin dance music were woven together thanks to an uncle, who introduced Malóne to DJing when he was still a kid. 

“My uncle was a DJ in the ’90s in Miami and he had the first Visiosonic DJ software. He taught me how to use it when I was 10 years old and I fell in love with the idea of mixing music. He would book little parties, like high school dances and kids’ parties. He would play the Spanish styles of music and I would play hip-hop and contemporary stuff.” 





In the late ’90s, Malóne discovered the US trance scene, going to all-age raves and daytime foam parties at the Miami institution, Space. But it wasn’t until the early 2000s, after college and a stint playing professional baseball, that he became immersed in electronic music. 

“I went to my first Ultra when I was 23,” he says. “It was the early years of the EDM boom and all the Miami clubs started booking these massive headliners.” 

Space reopened, and the Miami scene started to carve out its own identity. “Since then, it’s just built,” says Malóne. “And Space has always been at the heart of it. I think it’s the best club in the world.”





The club has played a significant role in Malóne’s journey. In early 2014, he wrangled a set in the ground floor room at Space, his first major DJ gig. “I showed up with my Traktor S2 controller because I had never even played on CDJs before. It was the first time I actually played at a club and I was nervous as shit, but it went well. Then fast-forward eight years to a few months ago, I had the chance to play the terrace [the main room] at Space. I jumped on about 3:30am and the next thing I know it’s 7am. I ended up playing until 9:30 am. It came full circle for me, playing my first show at Space eight years ago and then playing a six-hour peak time set in the main room. That made me realize how far things had come.”





Malóne’s productions have also found their crowd. His latest track, “Muy Bien,” has just come out on Oscar G.’s label, Made in Miami, and hit #1 on the Beatport and Traxsource Afro house charts. 

“It’s my first number one and that’s a huge moment for me,” he says. “It’s a collaboration with two Cuban artists called PAUZA. They’re still in Cuba, like lots of my family, and everyone there is dealing with some really difficult circumstances.” Having found each other via Twitch, they worked on the track for two months, sending stems back and forth over Cuba’s creaky internet. “It was amazing to collaborate with these two local artists. I’m very humbled to see that happening, and very proud, too.”






Twitch streaming brought Malóne’s music and DJing to a much wider audience during the pandemic, thanks to a hook-up with BLOND:ISH and her ABRACADABRA crew. “A few weeks into the first lockdown, I wrote my track Bana,” he says. 

“I was kind of depressed, like everyone, and the track was a lot deeper and more melodic than my usual sound. I sent it to BLOND:ISH because I knew a guy who was doing video work on her livestreams.” BLOND:ISH put it out on ABRACADABRA and asked Malóne to become a resident on her Twitch channel. 

“That year and a half of the pandemic, when nobody was able to do anything and everything was closed, I was able to join this amazing, beautiful community of ABRACADABRA and play with them every week. My career took off in a really positive way. It was just because of that one track, which was influenced by that one moment. Music is a beautiful thing.” 





Malóne’s label, Hurry Up Slowly, has just come off a huge party series during Art Basel Miami. “We did almost 10,000 people over four days, with Guy Gerber, Marco Carola, Rony Seikaly, and Diplo.” He says. “The brand is growing and we’ve got a lot of big things coming up."

Malóne also a release coming up on Saved Records, Nic Fanciulli’s label. 

“It’s one of my favorite labels of all time,” he says. “And I’ve got pretty close to Nic. Just to be able to work with a legend like that who’s been around for so long, that’s a huge thing for me. I’ve just been amazed at how quickly everything’s grown in the past couple of years.”



Malóne

Steve Bug would not be alone in saying he's involved with dance music for the love and the passion. It's a culture that inspires, enchants, ensorcells, and otherwise intoxicates nomadic individuals to love any and all with every fiber of their being.

What makes Bug unique is his universal application of that love and passion. For nearly 30 years, the Berlin-based polymath has served as a producer, DJ, event curator, and label head to a plethora of different imprints. 

In the mind of Bug, none of these activities are mutually exclusive. They all embody the same thing. If he is going to do one, he will do them all because that is how he can best represent dance music as a human being.

"To me it's all a big thing. I'm either in it 100 percent or I'm not," Bug says, dialing in from his studio in Berlin. "I don't think I could just be a DJ or just be a producer or just a label guy. To me it has to be the whole thing. I want to do everything because I love it so much. This is what brings me joy."

Preeminent physicist Isaac Newton's third law of motion states that "For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction," and Steve Bug proves this rule via his introduction to dance music. His first authentic experience was an evening at Hamburg's now-legendary Front Club in the late '80s.

"My friend said I should come with her to Front Club in Hamburg where they play this house sound. I didn't know anything about it. I hadn't heard anything about it," Bug says. "So I went to a record shop and basically found two records. The House Sound of Chicago and one other compilation that I don't remember right now to know what was going on. So I went home and listened to those records and I really enjoyed what I was listening to, but I didn't know what to expect from the club."





Bug proceeded to "dance his ass off all night," in this mecca for dance music culture surrounded by people expressing themselves without inhibition. But what truly sparked Bug's attention was the nonstop music.

"Before DJs in the discotheques weren't really mixing records together. It was just one track one by one. Music stopped and they played the next track," Bug says. "I was enjoying the music nonstop. That was really blowing my mind."

Bug took action through attending Front Club that one fateful evening and the equal and opposite reaction was a complete and utter passion for dance music.



Steve Bug DJing in the 90's



Soon after Front Club, Bug completed his DJ set up with two turntables and a mixer. He started working with others to produce music before building out his own studio, and after that, he started running his own record labels. That was over 25 years ago, and throughout that time, Bug has proven himself an innovator in all three of those areas (his activities within dance music go far beyond DJing, production, and record labels as well).

As a DJ, Bug has a dedicated fanbase worldwide, playing regularly at hotspots like Miami Music Week and festivals like Germany's Fusion, Saint Maarten's boutique island experience SXM, and BPM. His production catalog spans seven full-length albums and dozens of singles and EPs. Along the way, he has run a variety of record labels, including Raw Elements, Dessous, Traffic Signs, Sublease Music, and Poker Flat Recordings.

"We're doing Poker Flat right now and Sublease Music. These are the two we're focusing on. The others I prefer to say they're asleep instead of saying we definitely put them away, and that's not ever going to happen again," Bug says with a laugh.

Raw Elements was Bug's first label. He adopted a genre-spanning approach from 1997 to 2000, releasing various styles from disco house and electro to Detroit techno. After discovering that so much diversity on one label wasn't necessarily viable paired with some issues with their distributor, Bug put Raw Elements to sleep and started Poker Flat Recordings in 1998.

Poker Flat Recordings is Bug's most prominent and longest-running label. Over the last 23 years, he's put out over 300 different releases on Poker Flat from artists like John Tejada, TRENTEMØLLER, Tim Engelhardt, Alex Niggemann, and Francesca Lombardo, as well as his own productions, all while being sure to maintain the label's integrity; remaining true to the off-kilter and eerie approach to minimalism regardless of whatever sound is the trend of the day. 

"Integrity is not about setting trends. Music to me and I think for a lot of other independent label owners is about passion and about something you personally feel. It's not about what other people like out there, and if a trend is shifting, it's not a smart move to shift with a sound financially, and in the long run, you keep your integrity, Bug says. "It's who we are. I can't do it differently. This is how I do it, and I think this is true for all people who run these sorts of labels, no matter if it's dance music or any other sort of music. Independent labels are basically driven by passion."  

Bug is still driving the culture forward with that passion. He is signing exciting new artists to Poker Flat like Ausilio Jo (whom Bug discovered through a track feedback session at SINEE Electronic Music Production School), he's curating more "reduced, hypnotic, and raw sounds" through Sublease Music, he's producing his own music (Bug had the final release on Poker Flat in 2021) and tours are coming soon as well.

With Bug's love and passion, even a global pandemic couldn't stop him from being in dance music 100 percent.







Steve Bug

Many artists find their lane early in their careers and stick to it for years. Maybe slightly drifting off course at some point, but never really straying too far from the sound that made them fall in love with dance music. Proper Villians—aka Jon Shulman—has spent two decades politely destroying conventional wisdom and writing whatever he wants. As a result, his catalog runs deep, brimming with genre-spanning gems from dubstep to drum & bass, tech house to breakbeat, minimal to trap. And despite his meandering genre fluidity, his music still carries with it a cohesive string. It’s part of the reason why his music appears on lauded labels like Classic Music Company, Box of Cats, Southern Fried, and Fool’s Gold.

His eclectic ear formed early. He says he grew up with “the most non-musical family.” Nevertheless, the imprint that his parents left on him is indelible. 

I imagine an old Looney Tunes cartoon as he endearingly recalls his mom playing all the wrong notes on the piano. However, she insisted that he take lessons starting at eight. And even though Shulman has developed a discerning ear, he says he didn’t get his innate abilities as a selector from his dad either.







“My dad ran a laundry company in Brooklyn. So, he would just get whatever the dudes with the blankets on the sidewalk were selling as far as CDs. He would come home with like, Kenny Loggins, 50 Cent, and Enrique Iglesias. That was just what he listened to. There was just no filter.”

What sparked his love affair with music was their record collection. Hiding between his mom’s Simon and Garfunkle albums were records from Ozzy Osbourne and Led Zeplin.

“I was a super metal and punk kid. And then I got into industrial metal like Nine Inch Nails.” The intersection of synths and heavy rock was fascinating. Eventually, his love of synths took over.

“I played guitar in two or three really awful bands. We ended up being an industrial metal band just because we couldn’t find a drummer,” he explains. Although it was more like none of his friend’s parents would let them have a drum set. So they improvised. “We’d loop up Rage Against the Machine breakbeats on a computer. And after a while, I was just like, well, this computer never shows up late to practice or stoned, so fuck y’all, I’m just gonna like roll with this computer.”

He grew up in the storied 90s New York club and rave scene. And as he reminisces on the iconic nightspots he spent hazy nights at (Twilo, Limelight, Exit, and more), it becomes clear that he’s been harvesting this eclectic sound in dark rooms for a good portion of his life.

By the time he was a senior in high school, he’d made the natural progression to D&B. After being so into metal, the high-energy drum breaks and grinding synths seemed natural. By the time he went to NYU to major in music business, the young DJ was building an arsenal of vinyl.

“I kind of joke [that] I got a minor in dance music. I stayed at the commuter dorms that were downtown. And between classes ‑ these two hour breaks ‑ I would just go to record stores. It was four years of going to every single record store in the city.”

By the time he graduated in 2001, the music industry had vastly changed. The first tech bubble had just burst, and the demise of Napster hinted at a burgeoning online music community. It was right around then that Shulman began to sign his first records.

Throughout the early ’00s, he continued to embed himself in the music scene. By the time the blog house era rolled around, he was a fixture on message boards like Diplo’s Hollertronix. Which is where an A&R for Fat Boy Slim’s Southern Fried Records discovered and signed “Trick Baby,” a sleazy sub-grinding breakbeat.

Around the same time, a friend of his introduced him to a way he could build a career out of his immense library of genre-spanning beats. He started working for a library company, a clearinghouse of sorts where producers can sell their beats to appear in movies, TV, and commercials. It gave him a way to put all of his unused material into the world. It ended up drawing him away from DJing between 2015 and 2018. But ultimately, he wanted to get back to the dancefloor.

“It’s relatively lucrative. There’s no glory,” he explains. Part of the reason he went into the corporate world was that after a short foray into dubstep, he stopped having fun making music. He felt dance music had kind of jumped the shark. It had become too aggressive, there was no more groove. But, he says after the break, “I just wanted to get back into DJing.”

The last three years of his career have been some of his most fruitful. In 2021 his track “Don Dada” with rapper Cakes Da Killa was remixed by Honey Dijon and Luke Solomon. And Eat’s Everything released a remix of “ICU” featuring Naomi Ruiz on his 10 Years of Eats Everything compilation. He also released Muvaland, Vol. 2 on the tastemaking HE.SHE.THEY imprint.

His remix of QRTR’s “Nossa” takes a moody, atmospheric interlude from her album and flips it into sweltering, late-night tech house. His roots in drum and bass are evident in the grimy descending bass swells. But the thumping bassline and crispy percussion make it perfect for a peak-hour dance floor. It’s a masterclass in creative sampling and inventive sound design. He says that his goal when remixing is to take the best parts of the original and make it his own.

“That’s why I want to do the interlude. I asked her about it, she recorded it in a church. She just, took a field recorder and recorded the choir. I was like, ‘this is awesome. Where’s the sample from? And she’s like ‘this is the original sample.’”

As he looks back over his journey in dance music, he feels lucky to be here. When he first started going to raves in the 90s, it was a place for misfits. 

“When I got into DJing it wasn’t like, ‘Oh be a DJ [to be] super cool. It was like, ‘oh, you’re the dude who wears like goofy pants.’ It’s so weird to me that this stuff’s cool.”



Proper Villains

With releases stretching back two decades on labels such as Dirtybird, Poker Flat, and his own imprint Moon Harbour, Matthias Tanzmann is a stalwart of the European house scene. The German artist's impressive catalog is bolstered by residencies at iconic night spots like DC10 in Ibiza and festivals like BPM, Ultra, and Tomorrowland. Tanzmann is also one thiurd of Better Lost Than Stupid with Martin Buttrich and Davide Squillace. We caught up with him as he returned from a short tour of North and Central America to look back on his life and times. 

Tanzmann grew up in Leipzig, in former East Germany, hitting his teens just after the Berlin Wall came down, and the Soviet bloc disintegrated. Like many Germans, he found this to be a time of enormous freedom and exploration. 

“When the Wall came down there were so many abandoned places,” says Tanzmann. “It was a period of restructuring and old factories went out of business. All those places were empty and no one really knew what was going on. The police force had to be restructured so you could do a lot of things that nobody cared about.”

Like Berlin in the years after reunification, these abandoned spaces were ideal venues for raves and celebrations of newfound freedom. 

“There were so many illegal parties. You would just move a very basic sound system into an abandoned place and put in a bar and away you go. Nobody would care – there was no police. It was a time with so much opportunity. It was so new. This is what really got me into electronic music and this whole world.” 



Distillery club, Leipzig | Photograph: martin@distillery.de



Tanzmann started playing house music in local bars before landing a residency at the Leipzig institution Distillery. 

“It was a big step for me. Distillery was already a legendary club back then. First, I played the basement, which was more techno than house, then in 1997 I had my first appearance upstairs on the house floor, which was a better fit for me. But the crowd was way more open-minded back then. Techno and house weren’t clearly defined. Everything was new and the crowd was super mixed – you’d have queer people, someone in a suit over there, a punk over here, just this really diverse crowd.” 

Around the same time, Tanzmann started producing music under Gamat 3000 using basic hardware synths and effects. “From the first money I earned, I bought the most basic sampler you can think of and we had one Yamaha synth and two cheap effects. It was exciting. Now you have all those options in a big studio, but back then being limited to just a few sounds and samples, it was a good thing. We had to focus on the limited equipment we had.” 

Tanzmann and some friends from Distillery founded Moon Harbour Recordings in 2000, mainly as a label to put out their own releases. Still going strong, last year Moon Harbour celebrated its 20th anniversary. “We never expected it to exist for so long or to get so much international recognition,” says Tanzmann. “There was no business plan. It was just – hey let’s do something.”

By 2007, with Moon Harbour firmly established as a deep house imprint, Tanzmann was DJing small shows around Europe when CircoLoco invited him to play at the iconic Ibiza club DC10. 

“I had played Space and a few other gigs in Ibiza before this. Then in 2006 I released a track that was played a lot at DC10, so they invited me to play a New Year’s Day party as a try-out.” Then disaster struck. “I was playing a New Year’s Eve gig in London and my luggage was lost on the way to Ibiza.” Tanzmann had some records on him, but the lost luggage meant he was late for his CircoLoco show. “Because we were so late, they took me from the airport directly to the club, opened the back door and shoved me into the DJ booth and I started playing immediately. I didn’t have a chance to get nervous.” 

The slot led to a residency at CircoLoco for the 1997 Ibiza summer season, and he remains one of CircoLoco’s most frequent guests. Tanzmann had found his home away from home. In the subsequent 15 years, he built growing international renown playing deep house, minimal, and tech house, learning to craft his sound, whether playing small clubs with 300 people on the dancefloor or huge parties of 10,000 people. But for Tanzmann, the house sound continues to inspire him. 

“House is always going to be interesting. It’s so self-referential – you have these cycles where it sounds like the ’80s again, then it sounds like the ’90s TR-909 rave sound,  and now it’s the very melodic stuff. I don’t even know where house is right now – there are so many different scenes. But that’s good – it just underlines how big house has become.” 

Ibiza remains one of Tanzmann’s favorite places to play, but he also shouts out South America, especially Argentina, Peru, and Chile. “You have such a responsive and educated crowd in these places, it’s amazing to play there. Recently, I was also able to play again in the US, which I love. And hopefully as the world opens up I’ll be able to play more. I had some great times in Switzerland during the pandemic, as it was one of the few countries that allowed clubs to stay open most of the time.”  

As lockdowns end around the world, Tanzmann splits his schedule between producing and DJing. His latest release on Knee Deep in Sound is a collaboration with long-time friend Steve Bug. He’s also working on remixes for Rony Siekelay and P. Diddy and a project with Black Circle for Moon Harbour recordings. Most of all, he looks forward to the festival circuit ramping up again after two long and quiet years. 

“I just came back from a small tour in Mexico, Costa Rica and the US. Hopefully the pandemic will slow down and we’ll see each other at festivals and clubs soon. This is what I really hope for.” 







Matthias Tanzmann 

A true veteran of dance music, Mz Worthy cut her teeth in Washington D.C and New York City before moving to the west coast and helping found the now iconic, Dirtybird brand. Coming up in New York City in the late 90s gave Worthy a unique opportunity to witness a new era of electronic music emerge. Legendary residencies inspired her to take up the art of DJing and producing. 

“It was after I moved to New York… I was hanging outside my dorm room and some girls said they were going to a party down the street… I walked in there and it was like, what I had been looking for for a long time. This is the music I’ve been trying to find for a long time and I just didn’t know how to find it… Once I had that moment I was just like, what’s going on next week? It was just like an electronic music education in New York City. I was listening to house music, jungle, Drum n Bass…” 







After that breakthrough moment, Worthy devoted herself to learning the ins and outs of the scene. Her first night out in New York City was shared with her good friend, Justin Martin who became equally infatuated with the world of electronic music. The two of them got turntables and explored record stores, buying everything they could.

“We’d go record shopping together and buy the drum and bass records and we’d go back and just play records in my dorm room. We’d sit there and just kind of imagine that we were in front of a big crowd, pretending like we’re at Twilo, drinking 40s and smoking… Justin Martin moved out to San Francisco halfway through the year and it was a big reason as to why I made the move.”

Shortly after departing the east coast, Worthy linked back up with Justin and his brother Christian Martin. They befriended a guy named Barclay Crenshaw (now known as Claude VonStroke), and never looked back. Within a month or two of being out west, the group decided to start throwing parties. Even with their shared expertise, none of them envisioned a future with Dirtybird festivals when they had their first get-together. 

“Those first couple of parties, there were like 20 people, maybe 50 on a good day. I don’t think any of us had any idea that it would get to where it is today, you know, with a giant festival and parties all over the world… But it was exciting to just have a room and party with our friends.”

Eventually, the group began renting out spaces to ensure the party could be inside. They started doing some club dates and the brand began to grow organically. More and more people started to attend the events, leading to larger-scale shows and eventually the foundation of a label, music festival, and so much more.

Despite a tremendous amount of success in her career, Worthy found herself feeling increasingly unhappy as the years progressed. In 2020 she came out to the world as transgender and began transitioning. The decision gave Worthy a massive sense of relief and freedom, finally allowing herself to truly be the person that she always knew she was deep down inside. 

“It became really obvious that something was just not right in my life. Probably like six or seven years ago, I realized that there was something going on that was just not normal. It felt like I had this traumatic event that had happened to me in the past that I didn’t know about and was trying to figure out," she remembers. 

"The pandemic really gave me this opportunity to sit with myself more and explore myself. Being locked up and alone gave me the strength to explore dressing up, and talking about it with someone which ended up being my ex-wife. After discussing at length with her that I’ve always been doing this and felt this way, she said that I could be transgender. That was kind of all I needed to hear.” 

Those words of affirmation confirmed why she felt so conflicted about her gender identity. With renewed clarity, the idea of accepting her identity became a reality. She began transitioning and has since become a beacon of happiness and acceptance. Worthy also notes that the transition helped her take new steps musically. Not only is she free as a person, but she feels the confidence and strength to play any type of music while DJing, and explore a wide variety of sounds in her productions going forward.

“I think before there was kind of a wall in front of me that made connecting with the audience difficult… Now everything seems to flow smoothly. I think it’s a bit about finding myself, feeling confident again standing in front of people, and that parlays into feeling confidence in my track selection and not second guessing what I’m doing.”



Mz Worthy

Finding your bliss isn't a straight line, especially when the road map for life doesn't include the side streets that will lead us to our passions. Abby Tilton—aka ABCO—spent years of her life standing on the shoulder. As the music industry navigated a community kneecapped by the pandemic, Tilton transformed a small dedicated Twitch audience into a nationwide community of dancers enamored with her UK-influenced blend of feel-good house and chunky beats. Her energy and charisma are mirrored in her music, supported by Sam Divine, Paul Wolford, and many more.

Tilton grew up with a backdrop of music. And yet, while she picked up the guitar at seven, the trumpet in high school, and had a father who was a singer-songwriter, she never considered music a career path.

"I was a big athlete growing up, played a division one sport in college, and I definitely got burnout," she remembers. "Post-college, my dad was the one that was like, 'you know, you can only play sports for so long in life anyway, but music you can have forever.' And that really stuck with me. So, I think that's why I'm so passionate about it. And I know that maybe at 31 years old, it's late in the game for me to just really be getting into it. But it doesn't mean anything, honestly."

Tilton pursued a master's degree in engineering and worked at Bose designing headphones and speakers. Working in music, but not on music, she was veering closer to the path. While she stayed in the corporate lane, she found herself drifting further into life as a creative.

She says her admiration for dance music developed into love slowly, similar to how a romantic relationship blossoms. As her love affair grew into a lifetime commitment, she realized she wanted to do more than be in the crowd. So she started taking DJing and production classes. Yet, she still struggled with letting go of her corporate job.

She had a transformative experience at Austin City Limits in 2018 that further aligned her to her goals.

"I remember seeing the band Arizona. And this is when I was really struggling with not being happy with my corporate job and really wanting to do music. In the middle of thier set he [Zachary Hannah] was kind of explaining where the band came from and how they came to be. And I just remember he screamed into the microphone. 'If you're not doing what you love with your life, then you're wasting your fucking time.' and I just lost it. It really hit me. That is a moment that I definitely have ingrained in my mind forever."

The experience revealed what had been brimming beneath the surface for some time. Her corporate gig wasn't fulfilling. And as she started to DJ, she realized her place was on stage.

"Corporate life is 60 hours a week. I was traveling to China, three, four, or five times a year. It was a lot. I think that the biggest push for me was [when] I met my now wife. We met in Boston, and she moved down to the DC area. So, we did a year long distance. And it kind of got to that point where I was ready to make a change and go be with her. And I think that was kind of like the extra push, I needed to be like, 'This is the moment where I should really be leaving that part of me behind.'"

The pandemic provided an opportunity to see herself in another life. She was laid off from her job at Bose at the pandemic's start. And with nothing left to do, she decided to start streaming. She was already familiar with it, as she had spent time on other platforms streaming for friends and co-workers. But Twitch opened up a whole new world of community to her.

She streamed nearly every day, and while she built her fan base, she connected with other creatives like LP Giobbi. After seeing her DJ, Tilton shamelessly sent her a DM via Instagram, and the pair sparked up a friendship that's led to Tilton becoming a part of the Femme House collective. As a result, she's formed friendships that continue to inspire her.

"I've gotten to meet now a lot of these femme house people and meeting other female producers and DJs it's just been so inspiring. And it's like really opening my eyes to how much female talent is out there that I don't think I recognized before."

Recognizing that she is part of a collective of strong, talented female artists has been a huge source of inspiration. And as she looks forward, she's excited about taking a leading role in helping that community grow.

"I am starting to see a bigger push on diversity in lineups. So that's something I'm really excited about. More people of color, more gay people, and more women that's what I love to see. That's why I love being associated with house. Because even in DC, I'm starting to see a bigger effort on promoters booking more diversity in their lineups."

House music has changed her life for the better in every way. She's found the path that's leading her ever closer to her intentions of spreading positivity and positively dope beats to as many people as possible. House is more than music to her. She says, "I always say house music is an emotion, you know, it's a feeling there's, there's no way really to describe it."






ABCO

Arielle Free runs on pure joy. As a touring DJ, she’s played colossal venues from Glastonbury to Creamfields to London’s Printworks. She's also a label owner and in the midst of adding producer credits to her work of pushing dance music to the masses.

As one of the leading radio presenters in the UK, Free currently lives out her dreams on BBC Radio 1. She’s up before dawn playing dance anthems for night owls, then smoothly transitions into getting the day started for other listeners. Free’s 4-7 am show is dedicated to “people who've worked through the night and need that last bit of energy,” she says.

Free’s key show segment is the Big Whopper, a term she coined for massive hits, tunes that have an inescapable impact. When a new track lands in Free’s inbox, she knows it’s a Big Whopper when “I know the words straightaway. The beat is all killer, no filler,” she explains. “Whether it's a massive big kick drum beat or a huge big vocal, it’s something that puts a smile on your face.” 

“It's really nice for me to see when I go to do a show and people come up and be like, ‘I love listening to you in the morning!’ ” Free beams. “The beauty of being able to win an audience you don’t know yet is the best thing.”

Free’s story begins in Stirling, Scotland, northeast of Glasgow. There, she became streetwise, figured out how to take care of herself, and most importantly, learned the gift of gab. She practiced ballet throughout childhood and loved having the discipline. “My journey as a ballet dancer led into me being a broadcaster because it was always about the music.” 

Free discovered electronic music during the nu-rave phase in the UK – reminiscent of neon tops, legwarmers, and the sounds of Boyz Noize and the Klaxons. This led her to Hyde Park in 2007, where she witnessed Daft Punk live, and electro house took over her life. Until then, “I was a band girl through and through,” Free says, remembering years of listening to rock and R&B. 

“I always wanted to be involved and immersed in music. That energy I would have brought to being a rockstar, I just put behind the decks now.” Free is relentless in her efforts to make crowds move. “I’m here to put on a great show and make you have THE MOST fun,” she says. 

Today, her love endures for superstar stage productions. Free once changed a festival slot to be as early as possible to make it in time to a Spice Girls show. 

Free’s interest in presenting sparked when she listened to BBC Radio 1 and dreamt of being like her idol, Zane Lowe. Free’s hustle began in 2011, making content for music-based YouTube channels, eventually joining community radio stations, and building her own audience. 

Broadcaster Annie Mac was also an inspiration as she introduced countless new acts to Free’s ears. To her, it was incredible to see Mac be one of the few females to be billed, let alone headline festivals a decade ago. Now Free’s lucky to call Mac someone she can pick up the phone and call. Grateful for those who paved the way, Free plans to remain outspoken and keep paying it forward.  “Girls can do it just as good as boys.”  

Free got her start as a DJ for Ministry of Sound. After years in this role, Free recounts endless stories ranging from epic wins, funny moments, to completely disastrous gigs. Despite self-doubt, she’s acquiring confidence and authority in her own voice. 

“I’m in a certain position of privilege in that I have a platform. DJs rely on me to play their music and big promoters rely on me talking about their festivals on the radio. But also a lot of people won’t book me because I will call them out,” if they’re not putting effort into uplifting diverse talent, she says. “And then I thought, rather than pointing out the ones that aren’t getting the females on the bill, let’s shout out the ones that are.” 

Free rejoices in each opportunity to flex her many skills. “I love a good dance behind the decks,” she laughs. “Every stage manager hates me because I’m the DJ who jumps on the decks to have a dance.” 

Recently, Free poured her heart into her first ever original release. “Soul Full” with Mortimer and Joe Killington is dropping via Defected’s D4Dance label. “It’s me in a track,” she says, teasing gorgeous vocals with a house and disco edge.

Free’s goal is to use her platform to support other producers and DJs. Her ambitions continue to grow through her label and event series, Free Your Mind. Ultimately, Free wants to build “a home for uplifting house music.” 



Interview by RYDEN




Arielle Free

Before I die, I want to… 

How might you finish that sentence? Most people might share a grandiose dream they seldom dare to speak into existence. Or a flashy, larger-than-life final deed for humanity. 

When asked to finish that strikingly open-ended statement, James Edwards —aka Made By Pete— pauses, shares a sheepish shrug and a laugh before explaining. 

"Maybe I've done everything I want to do, or I'm doing everything I want to do. There's nothing I really want that I'm not doing or already have at the moment… I'm not rich either, it's nothing monetary," he chuckles, "I'm just living life the way I want to live life."

Edwards's peaceful space of gratitude has steadily grown after years of following a distinctive path. He's had a journey full of lessons, self-growth, and a steadfast commitment to what feels right in music and life. The result? He has a growing reputation as a master producer, a performance schedule that takes him all over the globe, and an infectiously healthy perspective of the art form he loves.

Before Edwards traveled the globe to perform sets in exotic underground locations as Made By Pete, he started as a grade school kid wanting to try out an instrument. 

 "My earliest musical memory is probably wanting to learn how to play the saxophone but being forced to play the clarinet instead in school, which lasted about three months because the clarinet was boring," he remembers.

Despite his apathy for the clarinet, his musical curiosity still yearned for an outlet. Various styles punctuated his early teens, from Nirvana to oversized, overpriced Moschino shirts. But when family vacations to Ibiza started to include adventures to its world-famous clubs, his life would forever be changed.

"Eventually year after year we would go back and me and my friend started to adventure up to the clubs and that's when I got into electronic music and started thinking 'Hey I want to start mixing two records together.'… By the time we were 16 or 17."

"I think Es Paradís was the first club we went to. We got there at like 11 o'clock, and there was no one there. In the UK, when we were going out as kids, it would be 11 o'clock. And I think by one o'clock the DJ had started playing the same music again so we thought, 'Oh it must be over now,' and we left as people are just starting to go in. But we would go back every year and started going out to all the other clubs and just experiencing it all."

His experience in the clubs of Ibiza captured his imagination. From the music to the people, he was hooked.

 "I have quite a vivid memory of being in Pacha in Ibiza… Where I grew up going out as a kid you would be worried about getting on the bus, who you gonna bump into, is there gonna be any trouble that night. When I was in Ibiza, you'd bump into someone on the dance floor and they'd be, 'Oh sorry mate! How ya doing?' Everyone was friendly, lovely, everyone was really cool. I was just like, 'Wow,' man. This music is amazing. The people are amazing. I wanna do this. This is where I need to be."



Pacha, Ibiza



It didn't take long for those adventures in Ibiza to start bleeding into Edwards' life back in the UK. While his friends would frequent other venues in favor of popular music and chasing the ladies, James happily frequented the UK's vast array of Dance clubs like Ministry of Sound, even if it meant going by himself.







A friend soon let Edwards borrow turntables, and a dive down the DJ rabbit hole began. He set them up wherever he could: the kitchen, the garage, a basement, and started to set up parties at his local pubs. There was no denying he had found something he truly loved, and with his family's stamp of approval, he enrolled in a music production and business school.

"My mom's always been really encouraging. She saw that I had an interest in something and instead of discouraging me, encouraged me to do it properly…. She was the one who sort of encouraged me to go to college and learn how to make music. That was the thing that sort of turned it from just DJing and hobbying, to something like hey I can try and turn this into a career."

Edwards continued to polish his craft after finishing his coursework, his DJing abilities now accompanied by a capable working knowledge of his production software, Logic. And rather than jump headfirst into the exceedingly ruthless music industry, he picked up extra side-work and took time to methodically find the most authentic expression of his creativity. 

He wisely shares, "Nothing in music is guaranteed… I've always had something else I was doing, be it tennis coaching or other things. I work as a digital designer now as well. Another way to earn money, I think it's really important to have that… If you're relying on the money in the early stages, you probably end up making wrong decisions with your music. You might take the wrong remix or the wrong gigs, ya know if you need that 300 quid to pay your gas bill, you're not gonna turn down that thing," he laughs. "But that's not always the best way to go when you're trying to create a brand, a sound, and a vibe. You want to be free of any limitations or needs financially and just go with the flow."

Now, over a decade removed from those music courses, artists from around the world convene in his garden studio to create new sounds. His studio is a producer's dream come true. His socials brim with the top-shelf equipment lining the room. From his new IGS Tubecore vari-mu compressor to the Moog Matriach analog synthesizer and the Allen & Heath GSR24 M mix board that puts the icing on the delicious sonic cake, every piece of hardware has its role. 

Edwards is the first to admit that he continues to learn every day. He says he gets better every three to six months. His passion for music allows him to retain the role of an excited student exploring new possibilities with his gear and appreciating the talents of fresh artists.

"I love working with anyone who's got a talent that I don't have. I like to be the guy who's at the desk producing and getting that final sound together but I'm not a musician myself," he humbly explains. 





"Anyone like a vocalist or anyone who can play different instruments, it's great to get them in the studio because they often tend to have the skills that I don't have and I tend to have skills that they don't have and we work really well together… You can't do everything yourself."

He doesn't subscribe to the prevailing attitude in dance music that producers must do everything to be considered an artist. 

"Traditionally, the role of the producer is to get the best out of the artist. We just happen to be the artist as well as the producer and the engineer. You gotta find a way to work, don't limit yourself to just the things you can do, so why not experiment and bring in other people.

 "I tend to come up with things I would have never come up with myself, which is great because you just found something new there… and maybe you make a friend as well," he finishes with a smile.

Each Made By Pete track pulls on different sonic threads. "Sign Of The Times" and "Drunk In Chicago" are head-spinning bangers primed for a steamy dance floor. "Aikido" and "Rhythm Fabric" lean into his lifelong love of percussion. And magic bubbles when vocalist Jem Cooke hops on the mic for tunes like "I Am Not Afraid" and the 2018 hit, "So Long." 

His music finds harmony between organic, analog material and electronic proclivities. Much like his approach to life, balance is the keyword. A brilliant sonic pallet of distinct melodies skates across an always reliable groove. A vibe that's never uncontrollably aggressive, with an energy that's far from sleepy. You can lose yourself to it in the club or keep it steady in the headphones.  



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The music of Made By Pete is the meeting point of the many strings of James Edwards' life. Through career ebbs and flows, donning different monikers and sounds, and starting a family, the music has always been his north star. Patience and passion have led James down a path that regularly fills his heart. His face beams with love as he speaks. And while he'll tell you music hasn't made him rich, it unquestionably has made him rich in spirit, wisdom, and experience.



Made By Pete

He’s one of the hottest DJs in Toronto, known by the moniker “randomdoug.” But, to his friends, he’s just Doug, and Doug’s rise in the music scene has been far from random. Instead, it has been the result of a consistent, unwavering love of his art.

“I can even remember as a child,” said Doug, “we had a vinyl record player, and I remember being young… and actually turning it and playing with it, not knowing what I was doing, but now looking back it makes sense… that I did that.”

Every element of Doug’s life has intersected through music, even meeting his wife, appropriately, on the dance floor at the club Footwork, which is now known as Coda.

It started for Doug in 2002 when he was visiting the now-defunct Government nightclub in Toronto. Watching the sets, he felt a spark of inspiration. “Ok… I could probably do that. I really love the music,” he thought to himself. As he went through the club scene of Toronto, again and again, the thought hit him, “Maybe…”

“Those are the spots that I’d say cemented my love for the music and propelled me to… finally give it a shot,” said Doug. He learned the trade through a friend who happened to have some equipment in 2006. It was through the club Comfort Zone that his big shot came. He was hanging at the nightspot nearly every weekend. He made friends with the DJs there. He politely asked if he could watch at a distance. In the meantime, he had started working gigs at smaller venues.

“I kind of got close to one of the DJs [who worked on] Saturdays, his name is El Duran,” explained Doug. “He let me hang out at the back… and then one day, [El Duran] and [former resident DJ of Comfort Zone] Paranoid Jack… they kind of asked me on the spot… cause I went there after a small gig I had at a small bar, and I had my DJ stuff. And they just asked me to hop on!”

With the support of these mentors, Doug grew to be a popular DJ in the area. He has enjoyed local residencies and consistent work in Toronto, which has proven to be a stepping stone for some of the top artists in the field. “We do have quite a bit of guys and gals that have gone international,” said Doug. In January 2020, just before the pandemic changed the live music scene, he got one of the best gigs, playing the BPM Festival in Costa Rica. “That was amazing.”

A particularly influential track for Doug that helped inspire his foray into the job was “Just Kick” by Renato Cohen vs. Tim Deluxe (Carl Cox Mix). “That would just get me going,” he said. “I used to hear it in the Government Main Room, and I would request it at Comfort Zone.”

Comfort Zone has become a standby for Doug, and over the years, he’s enjoyed his fair share of memorable moments at the club. One time, a patron got a little too into his set. “They were just so excited,” Doug chuckled, “and they just jumped over the front [DJ] area. Then, while that’s all happening, the bouncer tries to get him off the stage, and then while doing that, it unhooks my laptop… and the music goes off.”

“But the cool thing was Mikey Terra, who was the next DJ… basically he was already coming on, so it came at not too bad of a time.”

Terra started to applaud, saying, “Hey, way to go randomdoug,” to fill the dead space. It was only about ten seconds without music, but Doug said, “That feels like an entirety when that happens.”

Doug works off the crowd’s energy when it comes to playing a set. “Whether you start playing more vocally or you start playing more techno, or you start playing more bouncy or housey, you can kind of feel the crowd and what they’re into given the time and what their mood is. You just ride that wave and go with the flow.”

It started with the classics, the real classics, for Doug. His clearest, early memories from childhood involve listening to Lionel Richie with his mom. “I guess I have my mom to thank for that, for her pretty good taste in music.” His mom also pushed him to learn piano from the time he was a toddler through middle school. “And then I played the bass in high school because I wanted to be cool. I was in a little bit of a band for a bit.” He also took up percussion.

All this experience led him to be better at his craft. “Anything like that with music theory or learning timing… it only helps with… programming your set, when to bring in a track… just the construction and the flow.”

Looking to the future, Doug will expand a new venture: his brand, R&R, which he and his wife started not long before COVID hit North America. The R&R stands for Return and Revolve. Doug explained, “Basically it’s returning to what we like.”

After putting on a few parties, they went into forced hiatus in 2020. They have recently been able to get the brand back on track, hosting an event last December. “A lot of the OG heavyweights of the Toronto scene came, which was really cool, and it was a really good vibe.”

Doug will also be putting time into music production. Of course, he will continue to be a fixture on the Toronto scene, where he maintains a residency at Comfort Zone and plays Coda and Vertigo. For updates on all of Doug’s future activities, follow randomdoug on both Instagram and Facebook.




Randomdoug

Manda Moor's infectious determination seeps into her bouncy yet sophisticated tracks. European audiences will most likely be familiar with the Paris-based artist, making it hard to believe she only played her first major gigs in 2019. 

Her relentless drive has since landed her international gigs in some of the most acclaimed house and techno spaces, particularly in Ibiza and the UK. Her tracks have been released on acclaimed labels like Tamango Records. Her debut EP What U Want on Kaluki Musik hit number one on Beatport’s minimal tech chart.

While detailing her career, the artist repeatedly emphasizes her gratitude and wonder. Yet, despite her sincere humility, it's evident success was no accident. 

A self-proclaimed party girl, Moor's love for dance music began amidst the crowds and culminated when she became a protegée of sorts of one house music's founding fathers, the late Paul Johnson. 

Crossing the decks wasn't a smooth transition. I cannot help but feel sympathy as the artist reveals her struggles with anxiety. Nonetheless, her smiles while performing exude a confidence mirrored by her simultaneously warm and serious house and techno. Perhaps this melange is a reflection of her Danish-Filipino heritage. Her theory is that warmer countries inspire bouncy rhythms while colder countries inspire technicity. These coexist hypnotically in "Catfish," from Kaluki Musik's 16th Birthday EP. However, she explains, her musical influences derive mostly from her Filipino mother's side.

"I definitely got the music bug from my mother. She was a singer. Singing and music in general is a huge part of Filipino culture. She would play music whatever she was doing. There was always music in the house. Filipinos are kind of like the latinos of Asia, because the Philippines were colonised by the Spanish, then they were colonised by the Americans: that's what also brought disco and the love of singing."

Moor details the strong tribal and percussive roots of Filipino music sounds that she naturally feels drawn to in her own production.

In terms of conscious influences, Manda Moor's career constantly nods to the early Chicago house legends.



Manda Moor w/ Paul Johnson



"2019 was also the year when I started to really get into producing. That was the year I went to Chicago and met with the Chicago house legends, like Paul Johnson - rest in peace - , Dj Deeon, Dj Sneak, K'Alexi, Dj Pierre… I'm so blessed to have them in my life, and to know them personally. I consider them as family, they really, really inspire me to this day. They inspired the whole music industry! They are the founding fathers, the pillars of house music today. So, yeah when I went to Chicago it lit a fire in me to produce. That's how I started, basically. Obviously today if you want to be a successful dj and artist in the electronic world, you need to make your own music."



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We touch briefly on the tragic death of Paul Johnson, and it's clear the artist has been deeply affected by the loss. Yet, his legacy lives on through Moor's career, particularly through her long-term residency on France's first national electronic music radio station, FG.

"I was speaking with FG about how I met the Chicago house legends. That kind of revived within them the need to reconnect with the origins. So, they really encouraged me to play more of that type of music even though it's not real mainstream for a big radio station. It's just all about the reconnection with the origins which was the initial foundation of FG." 

The pandemic brought about more opportunities to reconnect with origins. Together with fellow France-based artist Sirus Hood, Moor founded Mood Edits. The concept was a limited series of edits, released only on Bandcamp. Every month a new volume of three or four edits was released, and the previous volume deleted.

"The idea was to give value back to music, whilst reminiscing the good times with tracks that we remixed. It was disco, hip hop, R&B tracks. We really felt that there was an oversaturation of music, partly due to streaming."

The edits received widespread support from acclaimed electronic artists like Pete Tong who played “Slow Touch” and introduced the series on BBC Radio 1. 

Moor joyfully recounts the gratitude she felt when major artists, like The Martinez Brothers, played Mood Edits at events in the summer of 2020. 

She attributes a major growth point in her career to videos of these edits circulating social media. Yet, after 12 volumes, the duo halted Mood Edits in fear of being subcategorized as purely "edit DJs" - though Moor passionately explains that that house music itself commenced with edits of disco tracks. 

Just as one door closes for the driven artist, another opens. In 2022, the artist hopes to announce her very own label. The label will similarly focus on giving value back to music but aims to differentiate itself by implementing blockchain technology. 

Moor's closing statement regarding 2022 aptly embodies her humbling attitude.

"Very excited for this year. Hopefully it's going to be so much better than the past two. In any case, I'm super grateful whatever happens."



Manda Moor

SOEL's music reflects a rich sonic palate informed by a lifetime absorbing a multi-colored patchwork of sounds. Equally refined, emotional, dark, and cinematic. He is a master of twisting synths into gorgeous wavering layers of beauty. His moody, melodic techno has wowed acclaimed producers like Adriatique, Tale Of Us, and Recondite. And the list of labels he's released on is remarkable, including Afterlife, Siamese, Mobilee, TAU and Plangent. 



He often draws from his Arabic roots and the rich cosmopolitan culture of Milan for inspiration. He grew up a stone's throw from the temple of opera, La Scala. As a result, classical music influences his music heavily as well. Yet, his father had the most profound impact on his musical DNA.

"My father was collecting vinyl and cassette tapes and listening to a lot of blues and a lot of jazz. Louis Armstrong, Myles Davis, and Ry Cooder. So a lot of black music, a lot of soulful music."

Milan's proximity to so many iconic dance music cities meant that by the time he was old enough to go to the club, he rarely spent a weekend or holiday at home. "Every single time I had a break from school, or a weekend off or something like that me and my friends would just jump on a train or a low fare airplane and then just go."



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He was obsessed with club culture and techno. "I did over 15 Time Warps. Festivals in Germany, Italy, and then Holland. University festivals during the summers. There were huge enormous festivals in Spain. Even small clubs. My favorite was a Cocoon club in Frankfurt, which was owned by Sven Vath."

He was all about the club, his friends and, "just having fun during the weekends. That's it."



Cocoon Club's DJ Booth



His move from the dancefloor to the decks was gradual, he says. Fascinated by dance music's culture of playing exclusive music, he spent hours digging for and collecting tracks. So before he even touched the turntables, he was already an expert curator.

The biggest draw to create has always been the peak dance floor experience. He still lives for the moments when you lose yourself in the beat. When the world seems to fade from view, all that remains is you, the music, and the lights.

It's almost visceral when he reflects on one of those moments during a Time Warp pre-party at Robert Johnson in Frankfurt.



"At 3 or 4 am, Ricardo Villalobos played this random singer from Iraq or Syria. And I knew that I know this kind of music. It was such a random thing, but such a surprise in a positive way. Because my friends and the people that were in that in the club back then, they didn't know what it is, but just went crazy. That's the power of the artist and the DJ."

He chases that feeling with every set he plays. The transcendence of his music is built for it. And as SOEL continues to build a massive library of music, he drifts further away from providing those moments as a DJ. Instead, he believes that those moments are more impactful when he's playing his music.

"I produce so much music. So much music, that I think the only way to really express myself is by playing only live. I think it's the creative point of view, honestly. And sometimes DJ sets are not, something that satisfies me."

His catalog is tremendous, forty hours of unreleased genre-spanning music from ambient electronic to peak hour techno. His decision to play more live sets allows him to stretch, build a vibe, and build a narrative. Performing dance music in a live environment is an act of storytelling. SOEL wishes to enter himself into that legacy of artists who are our raconteurs. 



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SOEL intends to make sure all of his work is out in the world for people to appreciate. His imprint Oracolo is part of that mission. Described as "A label where musical concepts and aesthetic boundaries are seen as a way to unify - not separate." Oracolo is the antithesis of his ethos.

Despite having no formal training, SOEL has established a unique musical footprint. The consummate creative, he says that he's been training for this his whole life. Creativity blossoms naturally when fed exposure to creative endeavors.

"Honestly, I think our brain is really a sponge. When you get exposed a lot simply because you're curious and you like something, I think this will come naturally. Nobody [can] actually teach you to be creative. So, think simply, let it come on naturally."





SOEL

Melding arpeggiated basslines and glowing melodies into incandescent dance music, Tony y Not - aka Mimi von Koerber - inspires pure elation through all that she produces. Her tracks, infused with the spirit of Chicago house, the richness of deep house, and the euphoria of '80s disco, have fueled unforgettable nights in New York City, Berlin, Black Rock City, and beyond. She has released through imprints like Critical Monday, Nein Records, Trampoliner, and Tächno. 

Born in Zurich, Switzerland, von Koerber's friends and family played a central role in impacting her music taste throughout her childhood. 

"My whole family is very musical," she explains. "I spent a lot of time with my sister who's just one year older than me. Being in high school, you're obviously influenced by what your friends are listening to. But I was listening to a lot of pop punk, rock stuff, and a lot of other people in my school were listening to a lot of hip-hop." 

As an 11-year-old with a keen enthusiasm to delve into new music, von Koerber was perhaps most influenced by her eldest sister, who would arrive back from New York with an array of music to share. "She came back bringing albums by The Fugees or Jamiroquai… I loved it... listening to these albums on my little Sony Walkman. So [my taste] was definitely really influenced by my older sister."

Legendary Berlin mainstay, Watergate, which stands in mesmerizing beauty overlooking the River Spree, was the location of her first rave experience back in 2012. 

"I remember being into electronic music before that, but I went there with friends and stayed there until way after sunrise. I was definitely like, 'Wow, this is so cool'… It was my first 'going-to-Berlin clubbing experience'."

Watergate's unwavering music-first culture was part of what drew her into dance music. And when she played there in 2019, it was a remarkable full-circle moment. 

In her life as a producer, von Koerber's determination for success has always been unyielding. In 2018, she was adamant about working hard on the first track she produced until it reached a standard where she was happy to release it. 

"Maybe this is just my German brain… but I was like, 'If I'm going to start something, I want to finish it'… I remember being so strict with myself."

She's honest about its imperfections but proud that it features her vocals. 

"I really liked that I used my voice. I'm a singer, which not a lot of people know. I'm currently working on an album, singing more, using my voice more." 

Becoming a successful musician is a dream that started early in life for von Koerber. "I think I always wanted to become a pop star when I was a child. I think everyone wanted that of course." 

After completing a Bachelors's and Master's Degree in New York, she began taking music more seriously. "I think once I started taking pressure off myself, and also when my Dad passed away a couple of years ago, I think my whole perspective [shifted] on what I'm supposed to do in life and on following your passion." 

After moving to New York, her connections in the city's music and events industry drew her further into the dance music sphere. 

Collective BAE, a New York women's collective, was instrumental in von Koerber's career. Their events ranging from music to poetry reading, life painting, yoga, and beyond, aim to make women feel more comfortable with self-expression. Founded by von Koerber's good friend Reem Abdou, aka DJ Dreeemy, Collective BAE was the first place to book Tony y not as a DJ.

"She brought me in and was like, 'I know you're DJing at home, but do you actually want to play in front of people?', and I was like, 'Oh my god, yes please!' So that was kind of the motivation for me… to step out there and find a voice." 

Attending music festivals was also of crucial importance. They helped spark the desire to delve into her creativity and immerse herself in the dance music experience. 

She explains how a great festival is defined by more than music. "I think festivals are about friendships, so going with a good crew, your mates, and having fun… makes the whole experience." 

Burning Man holds a particularly special place in her heart. A dedicated Burner since 2014, she's found family in her annual adventures. And naturally, it was the reason for her happiest musical moment. In 2019, von Koerber played a set on Burning Man's other-worldly Mayan Warrior art car. 

"Playing there [had definitely been] a real goal [for me] as an artist," she recalls. "All my friends behind me, all of these people in front of me… it was such a magical moment. I really, really loved it. Just thinking about it makes me so happy."

Von Koerber believes in the importance of self-expression and freedom in music. She makes a clear distinction between the role of the artist and that of the label. While she appreciates the niches labels curate, she doesn't believe artists need to follow suit.

"As an artist it's cool [to] open up a bit more to different sub-genres, or broaden it up a bit. A label is a label, a label's not a person. But an artist is a person." 

This limitless ideology translates to von Koerber's decision to release all of her future material under the same moniker, regardless of shifts in genre. "Every artist is different. I think some artists with different aliases it's cool because that's just how they present themselves. But at least for me… I like just releasing everything under one name. I think it's cool to show that you're not just stuck to one thing, you can be different, you can also work with different artists, you can collab with different people even from completely different backgrounds." 

She's become increasingly inspired by music that wouldn't work in club settings. Some believe electronic music must be either dancefloor music or ambient music for home-listening. She believes that it can transcend this boundary and breach new ground.

It doesn't need to be separated. It can also be together… the music that I'm making and working on is more synth-poppy. It's still electronic music because it's made on a computer." 

Her willingness to convey her identity, personality, successes, and struggles on social media forged a deep connection to her audience. And imbue a greater sense of humanity in her music. 

"I'm Tony y Not but I'm also Mimi, I'm just one person. I talk about my personal stuff, it's not just a "brand" that I'm representing." 

Her concern and care for others extend to the mental health implications of the pandemic. 

"We're living in a really hard time right now, at least for a lot of people… I think going inwards and focusing on self-healing and not listening too much to your outer environment is really important. My heart goes out to everyone suffering from depression and anxiety right now: stay strong, keep believing in yourself, this will not be forever, and better times are coming; just trust the process."



Artist Interviews