In the ever-evolving landscape of techno music, Alex Stein stands as a figure of genuine artistry and continuous growth. His journey, marked by introspection and a relentless pursuit of personal authenticity, offers a compelling narrative in the world of music.

The Genesis of Authenticity

Stein's story begins with a revelation, a moment of clarity that reshaped his approach to music. He speaks candidly about the early phase of his career, a time when the allure of external validation and the pursuit of popularity often overshadowed his artistic instincts. However, with experience and maturity, Stein experienced a pivotal shift. He began to create music not for the masses but for himself, a transition that marked the beginning of a more fulfilling and authentic artistic path.



Embracing the Creative Process

Stein's philosophy extends beyond mere sound production. He emphasizes the joy found in the creative process, particularly during the early stages of a musician's journey. He fondly recalls the excitement of discovery, the thrill of experimenting with new techniques, instruments, and plugins. This period, he notes, is often the most vibrant and rewarding, filled with uncharted possibilities and unfiltered creativity.

The Challenge of the Digital Age

In an era dominated by social media and digital presence, Stein reflects on the changing dynamics of the music industry. He acknowledges the necessity of an online persona, a stark contrast to the early days of his career when the focus was solely on the music and the live experience. Despite his initial love for platforms like Instagram, he admits that the obligation to maintain a digital presence can sometimes taint the artistic experience, turning it into a business necessity rather than a pure expression of art.



Global Recognition and Personal Milestones

Stein's career is dotted with significant milestones that underscore his global appeal. He reminisces about his first tour in Australia, a moment that illuminated the far-reaching impact of his music. This experience was a testament to the power of music, transcending geographical boundaries and resonating with audiences worldwide. Another highlight was his performance at Tomorrowland, a dream realized, offering an unforgettable experience of connection and euphoria.



A Bold Move to Berlin

Perhaps one of the most defining moments in Stein's career was his decision to move to Berlin. Leaving behind a successful career in Brazil, he embarked on a journey that was as much about personal discovery as it was about musical exploration. This move signified a willingness to embrace the unknown, to leave comfort for the sake of artistic growth. In Berlin, Stein found a new creative impetus, drawing inspiration from the city's diverse techno scene and integrating these influences into his unique sound.



Rekindling Collaborations

Stein's recent collaboration with Victor, after nearly a decade, marks a full-circle moment. It's a reunion that celebrates their shared history and the evolution of their individual journeys. This collaboration, born out of a renewed connection and mutual respect, highlights the importance of relationships and shared creative visions in the music industry.

A Continuous Evolution

Alex Stein's story is one of evolution, a journey marked by self-discovery, artistic integrity, and the willingness to adapt to the changing tides of the music industry. His narrative is a reminder that in the world of techno, authenticity and personal growth are as important as the music itself. Stein's journey continues to inspire, demonstrating that the heart of a true artist lies in the continuous pursuit of personal truth and artistic expression.

In the dynamic world of electronic music, few artists have managed to capture the essence of cultural and musical fusion as compellingly as Human Rias. From the punk rock echoes of England to the vibrant beats of techno, Rias's journey is not just about music; it's a narrative of resilience, adaptability, and a deep understanding of the industry's multifaceted nature.

Early Influences and the Shift to Electronic Beats

Human Rias's musical odyssey began far from the electronic scene, rooted in the punk rock sounds of Green Day and Blink 182. This early exposure to the raw energy of punk rock in the UK laid a foundation, albeit indirectly, for his future endeavors. The transition to electronic music was a revelation for Rias, sparked by an encounter with the works of Oliver Huntemann. This moment marked a turning point, leading him down the path of techno and eventually to his current love, melodic techno, and indie dance.




A Career Built on Versatility and Insight

Rias's career is a testament to versatility. Having played across the spectrum of electronic music, from hard techno to dubstep, he has shared stages with renowned acts like Ben Klok and Charlotte DeVitt. But it's not just his musical range that sets him apart; it's his deep-rooted understanding of the industry. With experience in various roles, from festival booking to artist management, Rias has built a network and knowledge base that many artists strive for but seldom achieve.



More Than Just Music: A Voice for Cultural Understanding

Perhaps the most striking aspect of Human Rias's story is his bold approach to music as a tool for cultural expression and understanding. His project, involving remixes of a track initially inspired by Jan Blomqvist, delves into the complexities of Iranian culture post-Islamic Revolution. It's a daring move, considering the potential backlash in a society where music has often been associated with sadness rather than joy and rebellion. Yet, Rias's work has been met with overwhelming positivity, highlighting the power of music to transcend cultural barriers.


A Historic Moment at Exit Festival

Human Rias's relationship with the Exit Festival is a highlight of his career. In 2021, he became the only artist in the festival's 23-year history to both open and close the Dance Arena in the same year. This achievement is not just a career milestone; it's a reflection of his unique energy and ability to connect with audiences on a profound level.



Looking Ahead: The Journey Continues

As Human Rias continues to navigate the world of electronic music, his journey is marked by constant travel and spontaneous performances, from villa parties in Ibiza to major festival stages. His story is one of an artist who not only understands the technicalities of music production and industry dynamics but also appreciates the deeper, unifying power of music.



In a world where electronic music often blurs into a single, undifferentiated mass, Human Rias stands out as an artist who brings a unique blend of cultural insight, industry knowledge, and musical versatility. His journey is far from over, but it's already a compelling narrative of how music can bridge worlds, both cultural and sonic.

In the dynamic landscape of techno music, Marcel Fengler stands as a figure of profound influence and artistic agility. His journey, marked by a deep connection to the essence of music and a relentless pursuit of creative evolution, offers a compelling narrative in the world of electronic soundscapes.

Fengler's story is not just about the beats and rhythms that define techno; it's about a personal quest for expression and the creation of a unique musical identity. From the early days of releasing tracks on labels like Ostgut Ton and Mote Evolver, Fengler's approach has been characterized by a selective and focused strategy. He has never been one to scatter his releases across numerous labels, preferring instead to cultivate a distinct sound with a few that resonate with his vision.

The inception of his label, IMF, marked a pivotal moment in Fengler's career. It was here that he embraced the complete creative process, from artwork to distribution, crafting a platform that was entirely his own. This move was not just about control; it was about creating a space where his musical ethos could flourish unimpeded. 

Fengler's label has become a beacon for quality and innovation in the techno scene. His approach to managing IMF reflects a deep-seated belief in the power of collaboration and the importance of nurturing new talent. By pairing emerging artists with established names for remixes, he has created a symbiotic ecosystem where experience meets fresh creativity, fostering a sense of community and mutual growth.


This ethos extends to his recent projects, where he has ventured into digital realms, adapting to the changing landscape of the music industry. The pandemic period, in particular, served as a catalyst for Fengler to delve deeper into his creative psyche, reevaluating his approach and expanding his artistic horizons.

Fengler's journey is also marked by personal challenges, including family commitments that required his attention. These experiences have not only shaped his character but also influenced his music, adding layers of depth and introspection to his work.


As he looks back over a decade of growth and change, Fengler sees a path marked by continuous evolution, both in his personal life and professional endeavors. His story is a testament to the power of passion and the importance of staying true to one's artistic vision. In a world often seen as one-dimensional, Fengler's journey stands out as a multifaceted exploration of sound, emotion, and human connection.

Marcel Fengler's narrative is more than just a chronicle of musical achievements; it's a vivid illustration of how an artist can remain true to their core while embracing change and new opportunities. His story resonates with anyone who believes in the transformative power of music and the endless possibilities that come with following one's inner voice.

After eight years riding the ups and downs of a promising DJ/producer, Dateless, born Xavier Smulovitz in Los Angeles, was thinking about giving up on his dream of making funky dance music. He made a vow to make 10 tracks and decided if none of them made an impact, it was time to pursue another career path. 

Rather serendipitously, Jamie Jones selected one of those tunes, "Geekin," to debut on his brand-new imprint, Paradise Records. Dateless has hit a new career high from the buzz and support the sassy track has received, gifting him the necessary inspiration and motivation to keep following the groove. And he doesn’t take one bit of it for granted.

In fact, his initial reaction to finding out his track would launch Jamie's new label was one of pure joy.

"I was absolutely ecstatic. At that moment, I was quite down on my luck and wanting to give up and whatnot. And once 'Geekin' got signed to Jamie's label, that was just such a surprise. It revitalized my whole thing, it reenergized me. [I felt like] 'Let's go, let's do this again,'" he shares excitedly from his home studio. "From that moment, I've been quite energetic about my career and I'm looking at everything very gratefully. I'm just very happy it happened."



During our lively hour-long video chat, his energy is palpable and infectious—he stands the whole time, sipping on iced mate from the traditional gourd and bombilla (a.k.a. stainless-steel straw) setup, speaking passionately about house music, his production techniques and much more.

When asked what having Jamie's support means to him, Dateless answers enthusiastically and emphatically; "Everything, absolutely everything. [Laughs.]"

This isn't Dateless' first release with Jamie—the British tastemaker has had his eye and ears on Dateless for a while now. The Bee EP was Hot Creations' first release of 2021 and the Shoes On EP dropped on Hottrax back in 2018.

"If I didn't receive that kind of support early on, I would have been second-guessing myself much more. But since I've always had him kind of paying attention to what I'm doing and giving me the nod, that definitely gave me a confidence that is needed. It's kind of necessary if you're going to be an artist because, in my opinion, an artist is a visionary. So, you gotta be confident in your vision."

"Geekin" was made with a lot of care—he spent a week perfecting just the drums, playing with "literally every volume control you could possibly think of"—resulting in what was "probably the most attentive [he's] ever been on a record." Once he had the infectious drumbeat locked in, he layered in a bassline and two different punchy kicks, then turned to a sample pack for the missing touch of funk.

"I went looking through a disco-inspired sample pack that I've had for probably eight years now. I went through the basslines and nothing really [caught my attention]. And then while I'm looking at it towards the end, I came across the live bass guitar that you hear in 'Geekin' and it immediately glued into the record."

The final touch was the sassy vocals—which are his! "I've been fucking 'round" crossed his mind when he finished the instrumental and guided the rest of the lyrics. He then car- and road-tested the track for a month, fine-tuning it along the way.

"It would be difficult to produce a record like 'Geekin' when you're on tour… I'm in the 'pump out club records' mentality now," he explains. He's doing this by taking a more sample-based approach, further mining his sample packs for inspiring sounds instead of crafting them all himself in his DAWs. But the more intensive, D.I.Y. approach will always be a part of his overall creative approach.

"Music-making from scratch is meditative for me. I need it. It feels so good," he adds.

He is particularly inspired by the care and attention to detail that Jamie brings to everything he does, to the art he commissions for the releases on all his successful labels, and the captivating design at his Paradise Ibiza parties. (Dateless played Paradise Miami in March and will be trekking to Ibiza for their massive season closer on October 4.) It also blows Dateless' mind that the British heavy-hitter listens to every demo he's sent: "It's crazy. I don't understand how he does it. He's an alien and I love him."



Dateless' recent success and busy summer on the road have made him contemplate his vision and intention as he moves forward and upward. It's important to him to stay underground-minded and as far as possible from the superficial elements of DJ culture, because he's really just here for the music.

"I'm here for dance music. My intention is [to make] timeless dance music," he reflects.

But of course, "Geekin" is just the beginning of a new era for him. He has some hot remixes on the way, along with an upbeat scorcher called "Mysteries Of The House," an original tune featuring a captivating "dah dah dah dah!" sample from the same disco sample pack he used on "Geekin." He aptly calls it a disco-inspired track "for the terraces of the world."

Both tracks also use his voice, along with most of his tracks with vocals, actually. He first started making tracks with his voice on it back when he was writing and recording raps using Garage Band at 16. His approach today still has influence from his early rap days—when working on vocals for a tune, he usually starts by freestyling until he finds a cadence that clicks, then he sits down and writes out lyrics.

Dateless is known for his funky rhythms and heavy grooves with a healthy dose of Latin influence. (It's no surprise that Jamie Jones is a big fan of his music.) He was born-and-raised in Southern California to parents of Peruvian and Argentinian descent, with musica en Español and hip-hop aplenty. Although the Latin influence on house music isn't always acknowledged, it's always been present, dating back to the live congas and percussion in disco. That sonic connection is obvious too Dateless, so he naturally channeling it in his energetic productions and DJ sets.



"Even if you took out the bongos and all the Latin percussion, house music still sounds like a sexy Latin beat to me, if it's done right. Because it's just so groovy, you know?" he muses.

Another one of Dateless' "magic touches" to his records is his "imperfect" approach to digital production. Even though all of his production happens "in the box," with a keyboard connected to his computer, it's important to him to make sure it sounds organic, as if made on real instruments.

"I was never into records that sound overly digital," he shares.

"What I don't think people recognize is that how important velocity is, which is only something that you'll be able to get when you're playing on a keyboard or recording a live instrument. If you're playing a beat or a baseline on your actual keyboard, I would hope that you're going into edit the velocity later, because otherwise it starts to sound a little bit too robotic. By playing it in, you're gonna get a much more fluid—it's almost like air."

The "Cuando Mueves" producer was 17 when he first was introduced to and fell in love with dance music, in a large part due to his older brother—who you may know as Lucati—starting to DJ. His brother showed him artists like Deadmau5—"Strobe" really captivated him—and his friends introduced him to "old-school" dubstep like AC Slater and Rusko. 

Soon enough, his brother's electro house duo was taking off in Los Angeles, so he too was thrown head-first into the local rave scene—without ever having to pay for a ticket! By the time he started the Dateless project, his brother had put DJing and producing aside, and he encouraged him to get back into it, giving way to the Lucati project.



They've remained close over the years, with what Dateless calls (mostly) healthy dose of brotherly competition. As they both love fast-tempo, "sexy" dance music, they share music with each other, and root each other on, while engaging in hilarious banter together on social media. They've also collabed together over the years, although their most recent joint release was the Life Sentence EP on Lucati's Kȯlmē Records imprint in late 2018.

"My brother and I have we both share the same DNA and talent, it just comes out in different ways, of course, because of our personalities. It's awesome to have a sibling that I'm so close with, in the same field of work as me. Now, you'd think that we'd be working more together, but that's in the hands of agents and management teams. If you guys want to see us together, go to the politicians of house music to make it happen," he implores with a laugh.

Dateless' DJ journey began in 2015 with his first releases, a string of collabs with Dillion Nathaniel. Quite amazingly, his first official DJ gig was a pretty major one, at Dirtybird BBQ Detroit in 2016. As he puts it, he started at the top—at a young age at that—and it's been a rollercoaster ever since.

"I was battling a lot of ego at the time. I'm just so glad that ego phase is so dead to me. I already had my ego death and I'm so glad—ego is a nightmare. In the beginning, I felt, 'Oh my god, I'm about to blow up,' but it never happened. I felt like I was working so hard, and then it continuously just wouldn't happen. And obviously, now, we've we're at a turning point."

He's been channeling the boundless energy and excitement he's felt recently into his productions, and still feels bummed when his some of his tracks get passed over. However, he also understands that most labels, especially the bigger independent ones, receive an astonishing number of demos. So, just because a track doesn't get picked up, doesn't mean it isn't good. And he's in a good place. He has tunes slated for some big underground labels, is getting booked across the country, and has his own label, Thanks For Sending, to showcase up-and-comers he's stoked on.

"I have a soft spot for all the new people trying to break through in the industry now, oh my god, it must feel impossible. I definitely feel for them. That's why I'm doing Thanks For Sending. It's my opportunity to build the future, to gather a roster of the artists of the future," he posits.

As for the up-and-coming artists he's super stoked on and excited to see where they go, that includes Mene from Serbia, Nacho Scoppa from Argentina and Gustaff from Spain. And stay tuned to Thanks for Sending for tips on more of the house up-and-comers he's keen on, along with heaters from the main man himself.

As for where he sees himself headed from here, he just wants to keep moving forward and expanding his platform to share the grooves that move him.

"I'm hoping that everything that's happening now continues and grows in a natural way. If you're asking where I see myself in five years, I envision myself throwing parties on the coast of Chile somewhere, in hopes to kind of curate a new, booming underground culture, kinda like a new a new Ibiza or Tulum. I'm hoping to discover a new spot where we can all gather and vibe," he concludes with a laugh.

See you there! And until then, you can catch Dateless and his funky rhythms and pure energy in New York City when he opens for Wax Motif at the Knockdown Center on August 25.

Cell Injection is the collaborative project of Drumcell (real name Moe Espinosa) and Truncate (real name David Flores), each a household name in West Coast techno. The genre is often heavily intellectualized by its core community, but the two artists have built a substantial following by not overthinking things.



“Outside of our music careers, David is amongst the very few people in the world that I talk to on a daily basis,” says Espinosa over a three-way video chat with Flores and Gray Area. “Trying to actively create space for Cell Injection doesn’t really feel like a necessity. It’s just a natural thing that happens when the time comes for it, an extension of what we do and who we are.”

They’ve each given their fair share of thought to music, to be sure. “I’ve always developed a strong admiration for the musicianship that goes into things,” Espinosa says. “I recall at a young age watching everything from Miles Davis to Eddie Van Halen to any musician who was incredibly skilled at what they did and saw how they crafted their skills with an instrument. That intrigued me, and I wanted to be good at something like that. I liked the idea of mastering something.”



Flores, on the other hand, loved music deeply but initially saw no future in it. “The only difference between Moe and me was I never wanted to pick up an instrument,” he says. “I always just enjoyed listening to music and discovering different types of music at a young age. I had cousins in the mid to late ’80s when I was about five or six throw backyard family parties where DJs would play hip-hop and electro and stuff. I’ve always been a big fan of that stuff.



“It wasn’t until like the early to mid-’90s, when I got into dance music and saw DJs play house and techno, that I got even more interested in the music,” Flores continues. “I was like, ‘I wanna DJ. I wanna learn how to scratch. I wanna do all that stuff. That was how it started in the beginning.”



Espinosa, meanwhile, had worked in L.A. recording studios since the tender, young age of 13. He graduated college with a degree in music production and engineering, and he would go on to mix and master records by commercially famous artists like George Clinton and Whitney Houston. He saved the money he made from these endeavors to fund the techno projects closer to his heart.

“I think people underestimate how massive the rave scene was on the West Coast in the ’90s,” Espinosa argues. “But the one thing that was very common across the rave scene in the ’90s was that techno really wasn’t a mainstay. Things like trance, drum and bass, and hardcore were big, but techno was kind of on the fringe. There were people like DJ Hyperactive and Adam X and Frankie Bones who permeated techno on the West Coast, but it was still on the fringe of things.”

Flores and Espinosa met in this very void where an L.A. techno scene had yet to coalesce. “We have this mutual friend, Victor, who used to work at this record shop in L.A. called Higher Source in like 2000 or 2001,” Flores recounts. “I used to go shopping there to buy techno, and he was friends with Moe. He was like, ‘Hey man, I gotta hook you up with these guys that always come in here and buy techno records. They’re going to start a party crew and start throwing events.”



Espinosa adds, “I think our mutual friend saw David’s dedication to the music and knew I was trying to start a record label and create this movement of a techno scene on the West Coast when it literally didn’t exist. Our mutual friend said, ‘Hey, dude, I got this dude David who comes into the record store all the time. He makes techno and lives in Downey and you guys gotta meet.’ And I was like, ‘Yeah, fuck it.’”

The two were fast friends. They got along without any effort, laying a solid foundation for their creative process to flourish in later years. And while Flores had no designs on becoming a famous DJ, Espinosa saw potential in him that he perhaps didn’t see in himself. When they first visited in a studio, the music Flores showed him floored Espinosa.



“From what I remember personally, David didn’t really have this incredible desire push a career as a producer,” says Espinosa. “It seemed more like this dude who was like making beats for fun the way a kid would play on a PlayStation. I heard what this dude was doing and I was fucking floored. I was just like, ‘What the hell, dude? You’ve gotta release this shit.’”



Flores released his debut solo track “Getting Excited” under the moniker David F. It appeared on Negative -1, the first compilation album of Droid Recordings, the epoch-making label Espinosa founded alongside the Raiz brothers at the turn of the millennium. Accompanying “Getting Excited” on the tracklist were songs by artists like Developer, Hyperactive, and Automat. Espinosa himself had several tracks on the compilation, including “Sycorax,” which he enlisted Flores to remix.



Droid Behavior was the event side of the brand. With the help of a simple email list, their parties grew from dozens of attendees to thousands, effectively providing proof of concept for West Coast techno rave promoters. Flores — who adopted a new moniker, Audio Injection — was a repeat booking at these carefully curated gatherings.

In 2007, Flores and Espinosa teamed up on their first collaborative record. The Kommunicate EP made them acutely aware of their creative chemistry and received international acclaim. The track “Bottle Opener,” in particular, garnered support from Dutch techno figurehead Speedy J and German superstar Chris Liebing for its bouncing groove and idiosyncratic sound design.



This won them remix requests from Liebing and an entree into his CLR imprint. The increased exposure landed Espinosa and Flores their first international gigs, not the least of which was a six-hour performance at the monumental Berlin club Berghain. Liebing shared an hour of the set to his CLR Podcast, which spread the names Drumcell and Audio Injection even further.



“The CLR Podcast was easily one of the most listened-to and biggest podcasts globally around the world,” says Espinosa. “It reached a lot of people, and artists would get gigs from doing the CLR Podcast back in the day. It probably did more for your career than releasing a record.”



At the time, though, the two had yet to perform together as Cell Injection. They had given the name — which combined a word from each of their aliases — to a 2009 EP in which their budding artistic synergy continued to blossom. On remixing duties for the Cell Injection EP were Acid Circus, Tim Xavier, and Tony Rohr.

When, then, did they adapt Cell Injection into their stage name? At one of Droid Behavior’s beloved Interface parties, though neither Espinosa nor Flores could say with certainty which it was.



“We decided that David and I should play together for once as opposed to just writing music together,” says Espinosa. “And I don’t even remember exactly who came up with the idea to put it on the flyer as Cell Injection instead of Drumcell vs. Audio Injection.”



He continues: “I wish I had some sort of like memory of that, but just like I said, all of this stuff has never been forced or led by some kind of like contrived idea to do things. It’s always been just this natural progression of like, ‘Eh, it happened.’ And then, like, ‘Oh, cool, it’s working. Oh, now this happened. Oh, cool. Let’s continue to do it. Yeah, that works.’”



Flores explains that a Cell Injection set is “us meeting in the middle with our own individual elements and stuff. I tend to play a bit more jacking funky, and Moe likes to play a little bit heavier and darker. When we do a Cell Injection set, I won’t get too funky and jacking, and he won’t go super dark or heady.”



In the years since they started the Cell Injection project, Both Flores and Espinosa have encountered their fair share of challenges. At certain points, they found themselves straying from the spontaneous innocence to which they arguably owe much of their success.



“Lately, I’ve been trying to get back to how I used to make music 10 years ago, just making tracks and not caring about if it’s gonna be well received,” says Flores, who now performs solo under the alias Truncate. “I got too caught up on, ‘Oh, is this gonna do well? Is this gonna work well? Blah, blah, blah.’ I gotta get out of that mentality and get back to just making tracks — and hey, if it lasts more than a week, great. If it doesn’t, then just move on. Just gotta keep going.”



Espinosa adds: “I think that’s a natural progression for an artist period. I don’t care who out there is such a purist techno person that they don’t give a shit about what anyone thinks about their art. I call bullshit on it. I think on some sort of subconscious level that starts to permeate you in some way.”



In 2018, Espinosa and Flores found new inspiration in a venture alongside visual artist OKTAform. They began hosting techno gatherings under the banner Observe, first in Los Angeles and then in Detroit, Miami, and Chicago. Each outing distills the raw essence of underground electronic music into its purest form, at once paying homage to the original West Coast techno parties and building on the blueprint further.

“I really wanted to bring David into the seat with us all to have his input and his say in how we curate the events, because I think he has an incredibly positive and unique perspective towards curating lineups and how we put together events,” says Espinosa. “We’re super happy with the direction that it’s taken. Our production has gotten tighter, our lineups have gotten better, and so has our entire ethos and cultural look at how events should be curated.”

“Unlike most other promoters who just wanna like book the next biggest DJ and throw a party and make money and then go on, we perceive the whole concept of throwing events and doing parties as an art form in its own,” he continues. “We don’t wanna just throw parties for the sake of throwing parties. We want to make an art form out of the ability to promote and put something together that’s special enough that people walk away and remember it for a long period of time.”



Flores adds: “On top of that, it’s like we try to have like every party be unique in some sort of way, not just having a warehouse and putting some lights and stuff in it, but something special that people remember. We also want to get to the level where we could book anybody and people will come regardless of the names.”

Between them, Drumcell and Truncate boast a wealth of experience in techno — from the most granular aspects of music production to the curation of historic events. Working together as Cell Injection reminds them to take a backseat during moments of shared creative drift and simply allow the art to create itself.

Among Kerri Chandler's many contributions to dance music is his irevokable role as one of the progenitors of the classic deep house sound. And even though his thirty year career is filled with culture-defining moments, he still sees himself as a student. He is excited about the next generation of house producers and remains a gear nerd, adopting new synths and techniques regularly. For the New Jersey-raised artist, house is still everything.



"[House] is my entire life. It's my thought process. I feel blessed I get to do what I love," he recently told Gray Area via video chat from a London hotel. But even though he has many classics in the cannon, he's not nostalgic for the past. "I'm always staying curious. I don't have a favorite time period," he states.

He's also incredibly generous with his time—spending an hour-and-a-half diving deep into the stories behind some of his biggest tracks—and humble about his illustrious career. "I've never tried to be the best, just the best me," he asserts.



His most recent album, 2022's expansive 24-track Spaces and Places, pays tribute to the magic his favorite venues cast on the club experience. He wrote tracks honoring Printworks, Ministry of Sound, Rex Club, Output, Watergate, DC-10, and many others, each informed by the club's unique spirit.



"I think each club has memories. And a lot of people go there to be free and set things loose and have a good time. It's their other home, in a way… I like the spontaneous feeling of each club, each one has something different because of the culture and the people that come there."



For Chandler, all of the venues he featured spark a certain nostalgia for the infamous clubs of yesteryear. Throughout his career he's been intimately familiar with these historic spaces, especially those in New Jersey and New York, including Paradise Garage right before it closed. He explains that the Ministry of Sound system is so good because it was modeled after the Garage, adding that he had his studio set up like MoS at one point. To honor the sound of these spaces, he recorded each track inside the club, finding different ways to capture thier essence and "get the tonality of the clubs."

Some, including Output (now Superior Ingredients) and very recently, Printworks, have shuttered since he made the tracks. "Things open and things close with each generation. But the sad thing for me is watching things turning into condominiums or some kind of useless business. It's like Printworks, which is one of my favorite places I've ever been, even just walking in there."



In Printworks' green room there was an "ugly yellow piano" that all the DJs signed. After scrawlling "Kerri was here" on the inside of the piano, Chandler recorded a sparkling riff on the infamous instrument, ensuring it would never be forgotten. He then went downstairs to finish "Never Thought [Printworks]" and tailor it especially for the beloved space—"even the way it echoes off the walls and the speakers to fit the club exactly."



His most recent release, the Lost & Found EP, Vol. 2, is a collection of previously unreleased demos from over the years. Some were unearthed by friends, and all were released as-is. "I just put them out as demos, so people can hear the process," he reveals. 



It opens with a somewhat surprising—incredibly banging—techno track, "Fluff Rehab." Recorded around 12 years ago, it's a result of The Martinez Brothers and Dennis Ferrer saying Chandler needed to do something "tougher," he explains. "I was always joking about it at the time when I did 'Back to the Raw' [in 2004]. I was like, 'That's enough of this fluffy, weak sh--, let's get back to the raw.'"



The opening track to Vol. 1, released in 2022, "What Will We Do," features humorous vocals from his jazz singer grandfather, who he previously worked with on 1993's "She's Crazy." They made it 33 years ago, and was the record that inspired Chandler to start the project, after his friend Will sent it to him.



If a track sits on his hard drive, it's unlikely he's going to go back and keep working on it. But recently, he's unearthed some of the uncut gems from long forgotten hard drives to share with fans. A few years ago, he released a bunch of demos in a free download link. ("Fluff Rehab" was one of the fan favorites.) He sees it as a way to say thank you to his fans and is planning on doing it again soon.



How does he know when he's done with a track? "When you start adding things to a track and it feels like it's taking away from it," he says.



"When it starts taking away from the groove of the track, that's when I know I've gone too far and I need to strip it back some more. Even with vocals, I learned that early on; too many vocals are too many vocals. We don't need all of that. When you make dance music, you have to make people dance. I'm not making songs for the radio, I'm making it for clubs, for people that really want to release… or to make you think. That's what I think deep house actually is, it makes you think. Not just in tonal sounds, this is music to make you feel something, you can relate to it, it makes you think and you can dance to it at the same time."

Behind every Kerri Chandler song is a feeling, a mood, a story. "I only go [in the studio] when I feel like I have something to say. If there's something on my mind, I'll wake up early in the morning and run into the studio," he reveals. "Every single song I've made has a reason. I have to sit and live with something, and then it becomes a song. I can't just go, 'I'm going to make a track today and it's going to be like this,' even if it's an instrumental. Something has to influence me or make me think about what I'm doing, otherwise it feels forced and I don't finish it."



2015's funky, freaky "Turn Off The Lights (Who's Afraid Of The Dark)" was inspired by his kids and features a loop of his son banging on the pipes. After they moved into a new house with a big basement, his son was scaring his daughter by banging on the pipes in the dark, spooky space as they played hide and seek. Right after Chandler's daughter—also named Kerri—was born, he had to board a plane for a gig which understandably broke his heart. He took the rest of the year off so he could be there for all her big firsts, and "2 My Daughter Kerri," celebrates a day they shared together when she was three.

"I shared the day that we would normally have and how much I loved her in case anything ever happened. I wanted to make sure that she has a musical letter that I wrote to her. But this has always been my life. It's always been this way," he says.



The deep and personal meaning in his music goes all the way back to his very first track in 1991, "Get it Off." It was sparked by a harrowing personal tragedy: the love of his life, Tracey, was raped and murdered outside of Club Zanzibar on her birthday. They were only 18 and she loved house music, so the song was both a dedication to her and a way to get his intense feelings off his chest. He'd been producing hip-hop and DJing house, but this track put him on the map as veritable house producer and got him signed Atlantic.

He's also a master remixer, giving the same care when approaching an edit. One of his biggest tracks that stayed hot as hell over the years is "You're in My System," his club remix of synthy '80s funk duo The System. "When we first get to a club, everyone has their phones up, saying 'System' or 'Rain.' There're certain songs that there's no way I can go to a club and not play." But he doesn't mind.

"It's part of me. It's like watching it grow up. It's another generation. And I always add my spin on it in a new way. I'll end up playing something over it or expanding it a bit. My friends Troy [Denari] and Dennis Quinn did another iteration of it and put it out again [in 2019], and had a blast with it. And now people can actually see it being sung," he explains. "I still have a lot of fun with it and I'm very grateful that people still enjoy the song. I'm never mad at my old catalogue. I'm actually very proud of it."



One of the other classics he's still keen on is reel-to-reel, a tool he describes as "a lost art," as all DJs back in the day used to know how to use it to test out songs and do edits. He likes the challenge of doing reel-to-reel DJ sets, which offers listeners the experience of hearing the expansiveness of music on tape. "I've always loved tape. I love the saturation and tone of tape. When I put something on tape, it sounds completely different than when its recorded on digital."

The New Jersey legend remains positive about house music today and is excited about a lot of younger producers and DJs in the scene. Dennis Quin, Lupe Fuentez, Baby Roland, Disclosure, Josh Butler, Bradley Zero, and Leighton Moody all make his list, although he stresses there's many, many more. He points to his Kaoz Theory party lineups where you can find more of the younger acts he's stoked on. When asked about mentorship, he explains it's very important to him to connect on a personal level with the artists he works with.



"I love the future of where the music can go. Anyone that's on my label, I make a point of knowing them personally. Any time I do a remix or something, same thing; there hasn't been one person I've met or have remix or anything on my label that we're not close friends. If they need anything from me, they know they can just call me. I keep in touch with everybody."



He agrees that his house family is a big one, and it's one his protective of. "I'm extremely supportive and I try to make sure that everybody looks out for each other. I think this is a music that should be shared and loved together as a community. I've never, ever tried to be better than anyone I just wanted to be the best me I could."

“For me now, everything’s a bonus. I’ve pretty much achieved everything that I’ve wanted to achieve and to be able to say that gives me great, great pleasure,” Sam Divine shares with gratitude as she dials in from Ibiza on the day of her anniversary with her partner. “I do everything with pride. I do everything with joy.”



They’re returning to the place where they met, but, of course, in between celebratory time on the island, she’s also got gigs lined up, including week six of Defected’s residency at Eden.



See, while Divine has accomplished so much in her years on the scene, at 42, she is just as hungry as she was when she first started. She still tours the world, DJing over 100 gigs a year. She still runs her record label, DVINE Sounds. She still helms the globally syndicated Defected Radio program and is still releasing her own records (though production came long after her other experiences in the scene).



And from the beginning, that hunger was always there.

“You have to also ask yourself that question when you’re starting out. How badly do you want it? Because I was so hungry for it. I still am. I’ve still got a fire in my belly for it 21 years later,” Divine says.



In 2002, after spending her youth making mixtapes by recording UK top 40 radio broadcasts, Divine launched her career based on a passion for finding and sharing new music.



She would visit friends who worked at record stores like Tower Records, sort through rows of vinyl, and take her selections home to spin on a set of decks she had set up in her garden shed.



“My mum wouldn’t let me in the house. I had my little setup with cobwebs, and it was freezing cold in the winter and blazing hot in the summer,” Divine says. “I entered a DJ competition shortly after I got my decks in my local nightclub and actually won. Then I went on to become the resident DJ of that club. I mean, literally playing to the bar staff every single Saturday, but loved it. That’s how I learned the art of being a warmup DJ. Digging for those records that you wouldn’t normally play at home in the shed.”

Divine’s passion for digging would eventually take her to work at several different record stores, including Spin Central in Weston-super-Mare, England, where she had her shrine to Defected Records (the label that would go on to change her life), Bristol’s now-shuttered Chemical Records (which at the time was the second biggest record store in Europe), and even a record store in Naples, Italy.



“I don’t speak Italian, and the people that came into the shop didn’t speak English, but [we had] that common ground of just loving music,” Divine remembers.



After leaving Chemical Records, she did her first season in Ibiza before moving to London, where she started at a shop called Oatmeal Records in Notting Hill. That’s where she met Aaron Ross, A&R of Defected.

Divine was already quite keen on Defected, attending all their parties in London, so Ross invited her to come to their night at Pacha in Ibiza. On the White Isle, she met the man himself, Defected’s owner, Simon Dunmore.



“I was just hounding [Dunmore] for promos and hitting him up for guest list every week,” Divine says with a laugh. “And in 2008, they offered me a job as street team. They kind of made up this job role for me.”



As street team, she would represent Defected all over Ibiza, providing DJs with free swag like merchandise, vinyl, and CDs, and then keeping track of which DJs played which Defected tracks out at the club each week.



The following year, Dunmore offered her the events manager position for Defected in Ibiza, which, frankly, she hated.



“It was way out of my depth. I had no clue. I’d run parties in London before with my best friend, but nothing on this scale,” Divine says. “It was so much hard work. It was absolutely exhausting. However, I really built a rapport with all my hero DJs. I got to warm up for them as well as running the party, as well as artist liaison, events manager.”



By the end of the summer, Divine jokes that she hated DJing, she hated Ibiza, and she hated Defected, but after playing a Defected night at Ministry of Sound in London when the summer was over, Dunmore signed her to the Defected roster.



“The rest is history,” Divine says.



Now Sam Divine is a staple of Defected lineups around the world. Whether it be on Ibiza, in London, Malta, or Croatia, she’s there. She’s part of the family, and as host of Defected Radio for the last eight years, she has gone to places she never dreamed of when she was spinning records in her mum’s shed.

“I can go anywhere in the world and I’ll always have people come up to me and be like, ‘Oh my God, I listen to the radio show every week’,” Divine says. “To be able to fly the Defected flag is an honor for me. And I do it with pride. I’ve earned my stripes.”



More than just advancing her career, her leadership of the radio show allows Divine to give a platform to up-and-coming artists. Sure, she can play an unreleased record to a live crowd of thousands, but when she plays it on the radio, it can reach up to 21.6 million people, according to their last syndication data, and the numbers for the radio show keep going up.



This intention of supporting new talents also manifests in her record label, DVINE Sounds, which she launched in 2015.



“I always wanted to have or give a platform to up-and-coming artists that basically didn’t have that voice. I wanted to be their voice. The way the label came about is that I found this artist called Curtis Gabriel. He was the first artist I ever signed to my label, and I was just having a lunch meeting with my manager, and I was pretty vexed that this guy only had like a hundred followers on SoundCloud. And I was playing his records at peak time in my sets, like what is going on?” Divine says.

Her manager suggested she start a label, which far fewer artists were doing at that time, so she did, and as her mentor Simon Dunmore says, she “leads from the front.”



Now Curtis Gabriel has over 250,000 monthly listeners on Spotify. DVINE Sounds has signed artists from around the world, including regions like South America and Italy (to which Divine is favorable, given her time working in Naples). They host boat parties at Defected Croatia and branded events at Miami Music Week.



But DVINE Sounds is more than just a platform for up-and-coming artists. DVINE Sounds is also where she shares her own releases.
Divine has been making music for over ten years, but in her words, she’s been “flirtatious with it,” engaging in lighter forms of the art like remixing UK garage records for house sets.



Though even today, as she is sharing full-length records in her name, she credits her engineer whom she works with closely, and is secure in her role in studio settings:



“I think you have to be quite a big nerd to be a producer. I’ve never had the patience for it. I’m the hype man in the studio. I’m making cups of tea, I’m like jumping off the walls, I’m like, ‘Who’s got a dog, let’s bring a dog in.’ I’m absolute vibes cartel in the studio, and, I’m not ashamed to say that because I can’t press buttons. I come in with an idea.”

After all, Sam Divine has accomplished everything she’s set out to already. So things like production, it’s all just a bonus for her. If she has a hit record one day, that’s great. If not, she will still be making tea in the studio and putting her touch on records she loves to play out.



And one of the biggest bonuses for her is to serve as a role model for others striving to make a career in house music.



“I always want people to win. I want them to be the best version of themselves. And if I can help be a stepping stone, even if it’s a small one in their career, I’m like a dog with a bone. When I find someone new, I’m just like, oh, so shiny, I wanna do lots of things with you,” Divine says. “I feel like I need to be a really good role model for all these young artists coming through now. I feel like I’ve definitely come from the trenches and worked my way up, but I’ve done it with a smile on my face. No regrets, no looking back. I would do it all again in a heartbeat.”

When Space Yacht co-founders Londonbridge and Hiddenhen first played Ranger Trucco's "Tiffany" during their weekly Tune Reactor live A&R stream on Twitch in 2020, they were instantly entranced with the Michigan-born producer's crispy, clean warbling tech house beats, and cheeky vocal style. He was signed quickly to their record label and lauded as one of house music's fiercest and most creative young producers.

Seldom do you come across an artist who, in the early stages of their career, has such a firmly established aesthetic, well-attuned self-confidence, and blindingly positive self-belief. His confidence is core to his character and has allowed him to navigate a whirlwind of changes in both sound and stature that keep him on the cutting edge of the American house music scene. And even though his brilliantly constructed sonic footprint made him such a standout, he's unafraid to allow his inspirations to shift his focus.




"I like to just keep an open mind. I just like to be an outlet of what I'm getting inspired by," he explains to Gray Area. "I started by doing vocals on my tracks, all of my old stuff is original vocal, and I still love to write vocals. But if something else is gonna catch my attention, I'm not just going to suppress that desire to go for it. I don't want to live my life feeling like I always have to fit into a box...If I can, at a young age, let people know that this is what I do. I'm just gonna go for everything. I'm going to try to cover, a wide variety of stuff."

His muteable nature has guided him since childhood. He's traversed a musical roadmap that led him from listening to classic and alternative rock with his dad to hip hop and dubstep with his brother and exploring the depths of indie rock and house music on his own.



His memories are filled with musical traditions. "Music was just a part of everything we did. It was on during dinner. It was on in the car, when we were on the way to school, and on the way home from school. We used to listen to 'The Day That Never Comes' by Metallica before school to get all hyped up. We'd be going nuts in the car." Even the most mundane tasks were made more exciting with a soundtrack. "I used to take some sort of medication in the morning. And every time I'd take it (I'd have to drink it. It's kind of gross.), my dad would play 'No Faith In Medicine' by the White Stripes." It wasn't until he was a teenager that he realized that this level of intense exposure to music was unique.



As he began to explore the wonder of live music, visceral sonic experiences led to life-changing epiphany's. Shortly after picking up the guitar, he went to his first concert, Kings of Leon, and came home inspired to start a band. After his brother returned from Electric Forest fully wooked out, Ranger began to tag along to raves diving into the expanse of dance music together. Hoping to explore beyond the bass, he first recognized the power of house music when he went to Snowglobe Festival in Lake Tahoe for the first time, huddled on the dancefloor with thousands of snow-chasing dancers.




"I remember the next day, something in me [was] awakened," he says with a bright smile. "I loved how complicated the buildups would be. But that it would always revert back to the kick and bass carrying the whole thing. Everything about the arrangement...Just being obsessed with the BPM, the tempo, the crowd, everyone having space dancing."

By the time he started college in Oregon, he'd thrown his total weight into DJing and producing house music. He planned to make his dreams a reality, and after a year of school, his decisive self-determination (and a dash of youthful naivete) changed his path.




He had imagined that his newfound love for creation would lead to fame and fortune, so the fact that college would put him in the hole by thousands didn't bother him. When reality set in, he figured he could at least be half right. When his college counselor explained that his grant money was exhausted, he'd already decided. "I had already, over the course of my freshman year, started producing in Ableton and fallen in love with it, skipped out on classes to continue to dive into music. Putting myself in this kind of student debt is a risk. If I'm going to take one risk, it's going to be on something that is my passion."

After an impressive campus tour and introducing his parents to his many friends, they asked him what he wanted to do. "And I'm like, 'drop out, leave it all.'" His parents were disappointed but recognized the maturity it took to admit that he needed to get real with himself about his future. Ultimately they kept an open mind and walked with him down the unconventional road he began to travel.




Several years into his journey, Ranger discovered how pivotal the decision to trust himself was. When he produced "Danni Girl," he knew he had a hit on his hands. Convincing record labels was an uphill climb. After a year of rejections, he was undeterred.




"Maybe it was a bit of stubbornness on my part, but I loved that track." so much so that between himself and a friend he'd sent it to, the private track had over 400 plays on Soundcloud. "It was kind of the first moment in my career where I was like, I'm not going to let someone determine this track's value. I'm going to determine it myself. And if that means I gotta wait until somebody sees my vision here or believes in it the same way I do, I will wait ten years."




Spinnin' Deep picked it up a year later, and it became his first song to stream over one million plays. It wasn't just empowering. It was a testament to the future direction of his career. Having the final say on his creative capital inspired him to take his career into his own hands and start his label, Ranger.

Like many other artists before him, his label allows him to release the music he believes in without constraint or criticism. "I like that what I'm doing is different than other artists. And when you're trying to strip away that one thing that makes it me, to sound like somebody else just to give it a home on your label. That's disrespectful to how I view the record to my creative process."




In 2021 LP Giobbi said in an interview with Festival Insider, "Belief is the is the biggest currency that you need for doing this line of work. You have to believe in yourself. You have to have belief it's possible." Ranger Trucco beautifully embodies this statement. Through every step of the musical journey, he put his best foot forward and ultimately released himself to the power of his creativity.




"It's been a year now. [Ranger] has become my newfound purpose in this scene. It's become so much more than I ever thought it would be. I really did it at first to, you know, give myself peace of mind," he tells me. "It has gotten so much insanely sick engagement and love and support that now it's something that I want to turn into that free lane and that option for other producers.




With plans to open the label up for other producers' demos in 2024, Ranger is well on his way to instilling the power of self-belief into other artists.

Four years since his first release on Anjunadeep, Simon Doty has finally gifted us with his debut album, Universal Language—a blend of deep house, melodic techno, and everything in between. But the main goal of the album is to inject the groove and funk back into the dancefloor. After over ten years of single and EP releases, Doty says it's long overdue.



"I had always talked about doing an album for quite a while. A lot of people would ask me, 'when are you doing your first album?'... It's something that sat as a concept and an idea for quite a while," he tells Gray Area. "I wanted to do a mix album where it was more DJ oriented… I started working on it last year. And once I had a couple of the core tracks together, it all kind of fell into place really quickly."

The main inspiration for Doty's Universal Language was the lack of presence on the dancefloor. The moments when people should be dancing and connecting with the music, instead, are filled with eyes on phone screens. He feels that music of late has been geared towards "Instagrammable moments" and being "TikTok friendly."



"And so I think for those reasons, we're starting to lose the core of what it's always supposed to have been about, you know, just like underground dance music, the character, the soul and the groove and the feel."



It was important for Doty to return to a time when phone camera's had just one megapixel, and the only concern of the night was to enjoy the music rather than worry about how many views a video might get.



"All the marketing was showing old montages of clubs and footage of people dancing, before there were phones and all that kind of stuff. And to be focused on getting back to that type of a vibe."



Yet, despite wanting to time warp back to the era of no phones, Doty doesn't want his shows to feel restricted and doesn't plan to join artists like Lane 8, who ban cell phone use at tour stops.



"I'm kind of proud to say I've noticed a lot of my events through this whole tour that there haven't been a lot of phones. Certainly you see people with their phones and taking videos and stuff. Like I said, it's okay. It's not a bad thing as long as it's just a healthy balance."



Doty speaks to me between tour stops and after three grueling months of taking the new album worldwide. Even as we begin the interview, he's prepping to leave again that afternoon. Jetting off to New York, then Orlando in one weekend, a brief stop in Manchester, Glasgow, Poland, then back to the UK again for Brighton, followed by jetting halfway across the world to Singapore, and finally Bali. That's only the end of phase one!



There certainly is a different feel across continents and nations when it comes to partying, so given his breadth of experience, I was interested to know who donated the best vibes during sets.

"I was really impressed with Argentina. It was the first weekend of this whole tour… I've heard a lot about it and that the fans are great… but to see it in person was pretty special and I would almost say it was kind of like a religious experience," he recalls. "They're just into the music in a totally different and unique way. You just don't see people on phones much. And the people are really locked in and into the music and down to go for the whole journey. Both nights I played 3 am till 7 am. And they were literally just ramping up as it hit 7 am. I mean, they were ready to keep going, which is wild. In North America, if it's over a couple hours, I think oftentimes you can just tell, people definitely lose the energy a bit. But people in Argentina are ready to go for sure. So yeah, it's a pretty special place from a DJ perspective."



Doty began working with Anjunadeep in 2019, starting with his track "Sama," since then, the relationship has flourished. But it took a little while to get going.



"At the time, I had a manager who was saying we should send stuff to Anjunadeep… We sent a couple of tracks, and we didn't hear anything. So I gave one of them to my friend Eelke Kleijn, whose got a label called Days Like Nights. He's part of Armada, and he signed it right away. And then, about a month or two later, we had a message from Anjunadeep saying they wanted to meet at ADE in Amsterdam. I'd almost forgotten that we had sent music there. And then when we went and met with them, they were like, 'Yeah, we actually got in trouble. The boss, James Grant, was kind of mad that we didn't end up signing the track.'


So as soon as I was back, I sent them a few tracks, and I think they signed all of them. And it's kind of just been growing ever since."



Doty has been on the scene for over a decade, bringing much experience and many releases that span the genre gamut. A listen through his catalog reveals the journey of an artist who's never content to sit still.



"Yeah, it's gone all over the place, to be honest," he says about his winding journey through dance music that began when he was 18. Surprisingly, his first releases leaned more toward tech house than the lilting progressive he's known for. However, that sound didn't hold long. "I felt like it was missing something for me. And so I almost reset and started working on stuff that was a lot more musical. About 2016/2017, I was doing more melodic techno and did releases on some labels that are cool and still doing well, like Stil vor Talent. And slowly ended up shifting more into the Anjunadeep thing."



He explains that recently he's beginning to feel a return to his early days. His records are getting a little bit housier these days. "It's almost like going back full circle ... I think just personally, the way I am, I get a bit bored. I can't keep doing the exact same thing forever. So for me, it's always subtly shifting and changing and evolving, but you know, I think that's good, and I think that's how it should be."



Before discovering his music proclivities, Doty rooted himself in sports.
Playing basketball his whole life, he went to university on a sports scholarship and studied economics. He did well but didn't care much for a life in academia. Despite basketball taking up most of his time, music was still a significant interest of his, DJing at college parties for friends. Uncertain he could make a career of it, he decided to follow his mum's steps and become a teacher. However, just before enrolling in the two years conversion course, Doty had a conversion of his own and decided to pursue DJing full-time.

"I started doing everything I could, I was even playing top 40 and I even did some weddings and anything I could to just start being out there and in front of people. And then eventually started making music and getting more specifically into playing electronic music like I am now."



Away from his hectic schedule playing long into the night and traveling across a plethora of time zones, he still makes time for a normal daywalker life. Even still making time for his basketball roots.



"I'm really into fitness since I did play sports my whole life. So, I'm always trying to stay as fit as possible. And especially when you're traveling, it's hard to be healthy. Sometimes, especially in the US, it's hard to even eat healthy… Right now it's the NBA playoffs going on so, I'm always watching stuff every night."

Life as a DJ can be challenging. Just like any career really, there are certainly the pros, but then there are also certainly the cons. However, it's the love we have for what we're doing that keeps us coming back despite the downsides. So I was interested to hear what kept Simon at the helm of the decks all these years.



"One of the things that's really special about it is that you meet a lot of people that you wouldn't necessarily have met otherwise. And you end up having these groups of friends in all these different cities and places. And it was part of the influence of the album, that that's why it was called Universal Language. You meet all these people that only speak Spanish and we literally don't speak in terms of actual words, but you can definitely communicate through a mutual love of similar music. So I think that's something that's really cool about doing this and keeps you going when it's tough and when it's tiring."



Judging by Doty's track record, and despite only just releasing his debut album, I had a sneaking suspicion there may still be even more releases up his sleeve. He certainly has a lot more planned for the rest of this year. However, he was coyly keeping them close to his chest. I guess 'embargoed' till PR says go! But he did say as much as "special remixes and edits." Exciting! So what are you waiting for? Go now and listen to Universal Language, and check to see if you're lucky enough to have Simon Doty play in a venue near you (hint: chances are, he probably is!).

Lately, AYYBO has been living life by three letters: GDB. What do they mean? “Goddamn, baby,” he clarifies for Gray Area with a laugh. It was initially a joke born from a dream in which he yelled the phrase on a mic during a show. Somehow, it stuck. “I just started saying ‘GDB’ to all my friends,” he says. “Anything good that would happen, I would just say ‘GDB.’ Then all my fans, when they say ‘GDB,’ I respond with ‘GDB’ as well. It just seems to be this never-ending cycle of positivity, as weird as it sounds.”




What was once an inside joke for the Southern Californian house producer and DJ has manifested into something bigger than himself. In the two years since he started this project, AYYBO has collected tens of millions of streams of his music, over 100,000 social media followers, co-signs from artists like Shaq and John Summit, a viral hit, and an official remix from Pitbull—and he’s only just getting started. GDB, indeed.

AYYBO, born Aaron Bonnema, has always been something of a musical sponge. Ska culture ruled his hometown of Anaheim, but he points to car rides with his dad as most influential in his early life. “I made my dad play [Outkast’s ‘B.O.B.’] hundreds of times as a kid,” he says, “as well as Chemical Brothers, which really got me into house music—specifically ‘Do It Again.’” But the urge to actually make music struck when AYYBO received the Rock Band video game and quickly progressed to the game’s expert level of difficulty. From there, he joined his high school’s drumline (not quite as cool as Nick Cannon’s Drumline, he jokes, but pretty close), making music by, as he calls it, “banging on stuff.”




AYYBO also assumed the unofficial role of school DJ when the student government body put out a call for someone who could play music during breaks and sports tournaments. There was just one tiny roadblock: he had never DJed. “I was thinking to myself, I can just buy a $150 DJ deck and just learn on YouTube,” he says. So AYYBO did just that. Soon he spent school breaks mashing together trap music, moombahton, bass house, big room, and even pop in the middle of the courtyard while his peers ate lunch. “I was a background DJ basically. I wasn’t looking for attention. I was just kind of setting the vibe.” The humbling opportunity led to gigs DJing house parties; along the way, digging for new music to play showed AYYBO just how vast electronic music was beyond his then-limited scope.

In college, AYYBO was prepared to pursue his first love, even before music: cinematography. From making short films, gameplay montages, and music videos throughout his school years, he started studying at film school but found himself more drawn to music. With help from Ableton software and YouTube tutorials, he began producing bass music and trap, both rooted heavily in the hip-hop he loved growing up. Eventually, he left school and sold all his filming equipment to pay for his studio setup.




The decision paid off: in 2018, AYYBO signed to Zeds Dead’s Deadbeats label under his old alias. But he admittedly had no game plan, and soon felt an urge to branch out creatively.




“Making music that finally got onto some cool labels just made me want to completely swap genres, which is weird sounding,” he says. “It basically didn’t give me enough satisfaction.” Over the next two years, he experimented across genres and increasingly higher BPMs to find his new sound, dabbling in “twerky-style hip-hop beats,” reggaeton, and Kaytranada-inspired grooves until he found a sweet spot in house music.

Starting in Spring 2021, AYYBO soft-launched his current alias with edits of pop and dance tracks, clubbing up songs like No Doubt’s “Hella Good,” Ciara’s “1,2 Step,” and Eminem’s “Shake That” with tech-house production and engulfing basslines. In 2022, he began focusing on his original discography, releasing a single almost every month of the year. Songs like “GDB” and “Do This,” both released on Zeds Dead’s Altered States imprint, reveal a bassline-heavy, almost ominous tech house sound that AYYBO likens to forbidden fruit: “It’s very mysterious-sounding… it sounds like a good evil.” Others, like “Busy” featuring Calumdj, showcased his ability to deftly mold hip-hop vocals into his work.

When singer-songwriter ero808 dropped off the raw vocals for what would become their collaboration “Hypnosis,” neither were aware of the hit they had on their hands. From the topline, AYYBO wrote the beat, following ero’s catchy hook with a swinging saxophone melody. The song caught fire upon its July 2022 release, with DJs and tastemakers such as Pete Tong, MistaJam, and DJ S.K.T rinsing it in their sets, while online it racked up millions of Spotify streams and over half a million TikTok views. To date, “Hypnosis” has collected over 11 million Spotify plays.




Months later, AYYBO was surprised by a request from one of Pitbull’s producers, Sermstyle (“Timber”), who asked for the “Hypnosis” instrumental. “I sent it to him and literally within a day he says, ‘Pitbull really likes it. He’s already written a hook to it,’” AYYBO says. Within a week, Pitbull had sent over vocals, and together he and Sermstyle finished the new song arrangement. In January 2023, Pitbull released the remix as “Right Or Wrong (Hypnosis).”

“I would never predict that to happen ever. I think it’s just the saxophone. It summoned him or something,” AYYBO says with a laugh, then adds, “It was very surreal. It felt like I was in a dream, honestly.”




Continuing his journey into music has also allowed AYYBO to once again flex his visual muscles, especially on social media. A quick skim of his TikTok and Instagram account shows AYYBO playing various characters across his many releases: “If Great Gatsby had a DJ,” he captioned a promo video for “New Dance,” in which he assumes a fedora-wearing, 1920s-era persona. In another, for “Whiplash,” he plays a dueling, pop-and-locking cowboy. And he actually brought his decks underwater for “Drench.” (“Gonna need a whole lotta rice to fix these,” he wrote.)




Whereas some artists see these platforms as a necessary evil in the industry, he views it as a creative and promotional tool with tremendous upside. “It’s one of the best tools out there to market yourself for free,” he says. “You can possibly get millions of views, and the more lottery tickets you get, the more TikToks you post, you have a better chance of hitting that lottery. It’s worth trying out at least.” Most importantly, these videos illustrate someone who’s actually having fun being an artist in every sense of the word.



“I just try not to take myself too seriously,” he says, “and I feel like people resonate with that.”

AYYBO is currently a few dates into his summer tour, which includes shows at The Roof at Brooklyn’s Superior Ingredients (hosted by Gray Area on August 4), Chicago’s Spybar, and Life is Beautiful in Las Vegas. 



Following his latest single, “Drench,” he has another track coming up in a few months, but beyond that, he admits he’s just winging it. In the near future, AYYBO hopes to bolster his fledgling GDB Records label, which currently houses his recent single “Bass Glide,” with more of his own releases. Eventually, he says, he’ll think about opening it up to other artists. As he describes how he wants his new music to sound—“more minimal and funky. It’s going to get deep”—it’s clear that what’s more important is how his music makes other people feel.




“I want people to feel a positive energy and react to my music in a way where it kind of helps them have a better day,” he says. “I see a lot of people being like, ‘This song just made my day, I keep listening to it.’ That kind of feeling is the best thing ever. That’s why I keep making music… It’s just a positive energy that has this ripple effect that I love. I just want to keep putting out music that people actually respond to, or relate to, or just dance their heart out and make their day better.”

When Sam Blacky dials into our video call, she's looking as cool as ever, chunky pink-rimmed shades on as the sun streams into the back seat of a car in Mexico City. It's another packed weekend of crisscrossing time zones for the San Diego-born DJ and producer. As she explains why Mexico City is her favorite place in the world, it becomes clear how a lifetime spent traveling the world has contributed to her freshly evolving globally inspired sound.



"I'm a beach girl. So it's weird. You wouldn't think that I would love this place as much as I do. But I almost moved here three times," she says with an excited smile. "The people, the food, the restaurants, the music for sure. The music is number one. The clubs are incredible. And it's super green, and beautiful."



As she moves from car to the beautifully appointed home of her "Mexican parents" —the owners of the club she's performing that night—she tells me how her Aussie band-loving, travel-obsessed parents helped form the foundation for a multi-disciplinary career that has taken her around the world.



"I'm dying to make a remix of INXS," she says with a sparkle. "My dad and mom were hardcore INXS." The iconic 80s new wave band (and fellow Aussie rockers AC/DC) was at the forefront of her musical memories from childhood. And while she name-checks Michael Bolton, Kiss, and ZZ Top, she's sure to dial home that INXS was the onramp to her musical highway.



Her parents passed on their love for impossibly cool music, making it easy for her to fall in love with dance music. After a less-than-perfect semester at UC Santa Barbara, she moved to UCLA, where she made friends that would go on to be music industry stars. In the pre-EDM blog house era, when punk rock and dance music's DIY spirits converged to spawn what would soon be a global phenomenon, cohorts like Jonah Berry, co-founder (with Skrillex) of the sadly shuttered NestHQ and graphic designer and DJ Trevor Bones introduced her to Ghostland Observatory, Boys Noize, Zircon, and her first EDC.



Ever restless and searching for adventure, she moved to Australia to finish a marketing degree on the Gold Coast. Sam was habitually in the right place at the right time, whether through kismet or sheer power of will.



"A week into being there. I met [a] hilarious, outlandish guy who was my best friend, still is to this day, and we lived together almost the whole six years. He was so funny, Sammy Prosser. Just a legend. He ran a bunch of nightclubs in Melbourne, and was just like a wild party boy player." Prosser gave her a taste of her future life behind the booth, taking her in a limo to her first Aussie festival Sterosonic an hour north in Brisbane.

While she says she never intended to be in the music industry, an ongoing series of fortunate events kept leading her forward. After graduating, she worked at a marketing agency on an activation at Stereosonic for Chupa Chups, the Australian answer to Blow Pops. She managed to masterfully marry the two worlds she lived in. When asked to develop a marketing plan for a product primarily consumed by children, she ingeniously suggested that ravers were the best consumers.



"Everyone is rolling at festivals. Everyone wants lollipops," she explains casually of the value proposition. The idea became a boon for the company and got her into the events she loved to attend. "We ended up doing all these insane activations, the most absurd things. I had a giant balloon microphone that was a Chupa Chup and I interviewed all the DJs backstage."



The activation put her front and center with some of the world's biggest DJs, whom she ended up partying with. On her last run with the festival, she stayed in Melbourne to keep the afters going while her co-workers returned to the office, and by the time she got home, she'd lost her job.



As one door closed, another opened, and a good friend got her a gig at Concrete Agency, where she helped manage tours for Will Sparks, Laidback Luke, and deadmau5, among others.



She also further enmeshed herself in dance music and picked up DJing. She tells me it was an organic progression that came about when her best friend Sammy encouraged her to foster her innately acute musical ear, and paid for DJ lessons. Her first gig? Opening for the one-and-only Eric Prydz. "I didn't know what the fuck I was doing opening for Eric Prydz. It was ridiculous." A trial by fire experience where she says she mangled her beat matching on every song.



She thought that after moving back to the States, she would continue to pursue working on the industry's back end, but something changed after a year of spinning for fun in Australia. Once again, leaning on her ability to make friends and influence people, Scott Russo, lead singer of pop-punk band Unwritten Law pointed her to his daughter Cailin who instead told Sam to pursue modeling, insisting that she could make her way into DJing that way.



She'd accidentally fallen into yet another career path at 25. Her beachy California girl aesthetic made her the perfect choice for brands like Abercrombie and Sketchers. Despite feeling a little out of place modeling with 16-year-olds, she crushed it, becoming a go-to model for swimwear. And because she already had the skills, she played double duty at events where a DJ was needed. Yet, despite word slowly spreading about Sam's top-tier Dj skills, she didn't love the bookings.



"In terms of the shows I was playing, they were like model DJ gigs. I hated them. They're friggin awful. I was DJing in stores and like, you know, as background music. I really just used it as practice to perfect the craft."



She struggled to redefine herself as an artist as she transitioned into club gigs. Her first management deal with industry titan Ayita (home to Chris Lake, FISHER, Cloonee, and Camden Cox) came with the caveat that she erase her modeling career from existence. Yet even with their assistance, she still struggled with the transition. Even some of her industry friends didn't take her seriously until she clawed her way to legitimacy.

It was equally difficult to accept that she needed to become a producer to level up. Despite everyone telling her it was necessary, she felt she'd already arrived.



"I was just naive and dumb. I was arrogant. I guess because I already had 120 shows a year and I was making great money. I was like, 'no, I'm chill. I don't need to make music.' I did!"



Things had always come fairly easily for Sam, a straight-A student, and a quick study. Yet even after multiple attempts to commit, Ableton was frustratingly confounding. "It was like Chinese to me," she explains. She put off learning it for as long as she could. "Which I definitely regret, but, you know, timing is everything, and maybe I wasn't ready and it wasn't meant to be."



After a string of rejections from labels, she released her first single, "Too Late," on her own Stabby Records imprint in 2021. It was a leap of faith, as it put the onus of success on her. However, ultimately it was the most rewarding because it proved to the industry that she was viable, led to signings with Repopulate Mars and Thrive, and allowed her to hone in on what her sonic identity could be.



"I feel like most artists spend a lot of their life and their time with the craft, mastering their sound and then coming out as artists," she says with a note of quiet introspection. "I did the opposite. I'm doing it as I go. I don't think it's necessarily the better route at all, but it's what I've done, cuz I wanted to put music out."



Her music has taken on notes from years of travel. While her first release, "Too Late," brimmed with mainstage tech house energy, "Colombiana" (her recent release on Repopulate Mars) breathes with the Latin flavor of her favorite destinations. And "Bogota" leans further into a softer, more lilting sound without letting up on the energy.



"in the beginning, to be honest, I was just trying to make stuff that was popular. And you know, that never works. That's never the right thing to do. My two loves were tech house and like Afro tribal, like Tuluminati, for lack of a better word. And it just wasn't that popular."



When her agents pressed her to define her sound early on, she said (much to their frustration) she could play with Calvin Harris or Black Coffee. The disparity between the worlds of dance music made it difficult to find her footing. More recently, she's comfortable saying her sound may lie closer to one side. And after spending so much time in far-flung locales where music tastes are more refined, and playing with people like Francis Mercier, she can safely say that she's performing for crowds that respect her direction.



Sam Blacky's winding journey has taken her from dancefloor queen to DJ to reluctant label owner, producer, and now releases on top-tier labels and being named one of the most influential producers of the year by 1001 Tracklists in 2022. It's quite a trajectory. So when I ask her what it all says about her ultimate belief in herself, she thanks me humbly and answers about as honestly as any artist could.



"Internally and naturally, I'm a confident person. I'm outgoing. I'm outspoken," she explains. "On the inside, you know, I'm a Cancer. I don't know if you guys are into all that. But yeah, I'm a Cancer: very sensitive. I'm an artist. I'm very insecure and fragile, and scared. I worry. I've got anxiety. You know, I've dealt with a lot of anxiety and stress and depression in the past. And so it definitely gave me confidence and really helped me to be like, 'Okay, I can do this.'"

Art expresses the intangible aspects of life, society, and the human condition. Artists explore these intangibles to inspire some semblance of feeling in others, and honor their innate desire to create and share. But honoring that base need takes resolve, faith, and confidence even when the road ahead is entirely unknown.



For Emma Kirby, better known as award-winning DJ and Producer, Elkka, the road ahead has never been clear, or even existent. But that hasn't stopped her from consistently redefining her role in the music industry, establishing an industry-advancing record label, and boldly pushing new sounds with nothing but her internal compass as the guide. This courageous conviction has been the Emma Kirby way ever since childhood.



"I was obsessed with Spice Girls, Britney Spears, Justin Timberlake, they were like my idols growing up… I was really entranced by the whole thing. I went to a million concerts and was just fully hooked on it all… I knew, I always knew I wanted to be a musician," she recalls. She didn't have a clear picture of what form her performance proclivity would take. Yet, she kept telling herself the same story, "I just know I want to be writing music, I want to be on stage, I want to be singing. [I] definitely didn't realize I would end up doing this, but I knew that it was there."



More than a mere daydream of a young child smitten by the sights, sounds, and impossibly efficient presentation of the late ’90s/ early 00s pop music boom, she carried an infallible belief in herself that bore a passion for singing and songwriting. Emma began taking steps to turn that dream into a reality, steadily building her reach as a session artist and songwriter.



Success came in small doses, as her vocal songwriting was consistently used on other artist’s tracks, but the progression of a solo career continued to elude her. In 2015, after seven years of working in an industry dominated by male producers, Kirby reached a boiling point. While on her way to a Jamie xx performance, she broke down in tears, feeling so entirely removed from the production side of the career she so earnestly strove for. The next day she began producing—a life-altering change.



It didn’t take long for her to make an impact as Elkka. As she worked on her first EP, she searched for the right distributor. Guided by an internal compass toward self-alignment, she found it difficult to relate to major labels.

"There weren't many platforms around or messaging around at that time that women could be producers ... It was a real minority. Same for people of color, queer people, just anyone that's not kind of a straight white dude. It just wasn't spoken about; there weren't many examples, and you didn't think it was for you. And that was really going through my head as I was learning to produce, as I was putting together my first EP."



Considering her options, she adopted that fierce DIY spirit that embodies the heart of dance music. She told herself, "maybe this is like something, a community thing that I want to do. Maybe this is something that I want to help other people do ... take control and have this DIY approach to launching yourself and putting yourself out there rather than relying on these gatekeepers."



Thus, femme culture was born. But how does one go from a virtual unknown to label head in such a short time? The reason is community.


"I was like, okay, I want to meet people, I want to like connect with people. So we started doing parties."


The community these nights brought together was one of acceptance for the marginalized, the outcasts, the others. It was a place where people could dance and share their sounds and spirits without fear of judgment or demonization, strikingly similar to the birth of house and techno in the 80s. The label had an immediate impact and success winning 2018's Breakthrough Label Award at DJ Mag's Best Of British Awards.


"We then started doing a yearly compilation with the UN Women [HeForShe Compilation], which was amazing. We got to work with some fantastic artists, really established people to come on board and support us and the cause of getting people to see that they can do it for themselves and they can produce for themselves and encourage an industry to be more balanced because it just wasn't and isn't."

For all the progress she’s helped perpetuate, Kirby maintains a humble demeanor saying:



“My contribution is teeny weeny weeny, but there's people like Sherelle in the UK, who's just an incredible DJ and person, and has started her own label and organization that offers free studio space for queer POC people. There's lots of people who are doing really good things.”



Throughout our conversation, Kirby emanates clarity and self-confidence. It's the same confidence she had as a child struck by the inspiration of the Spice Girls and Britney Spears. The infallible belief that her destiny lay on the path of music is the same courageous authenticity that’s led her to so seamlessly throw the boundaries of genre to the wind. It's innate. It's instinctual.



“I know there is like a gut thing that happens inside of me when an idea is forming that feels good and feels right, and that's the thing I've had to listen to my entire career and without that, what have I got? That is everything. That's how I'm able to write music and write my own music and that's literally everything… If it doesn't feel authentic, it's not right.”


This conviction for authenticity has made Emma Kirby the master of her own life, the captain of her own ship. It's formed her into a mover and shaker for the betterment of industry and community and the progress of an artistic expression of sound. This conviction rings true as she closes our conversation with a word of advice for budding producers.



"I think figuring out who you are, your own voice within music is really important to not just feel like you need to copy what's going on at the moment, because that doesn't work. You need to find your own DNA within the music and listen to your gut. It took me a number of years to do that. And I have many, many people being like, 'this isn't right, you should do this, you should do this.' And actually when I just stopped letting that cloud my judgments, my instincts", she says. "That's when things changed for me. And obviously you want to play things to people and get people's opinions, but the right people and people you trust, and you don't always have to agree with them and that's okay. So yeah, trust your instincts."

The 80/20 Rule was first proposed by mid-nineteenth-century Italian economist Vilfredo Pareto. It states that 80% of the results will come from 20% of the action. Iranian-born, UK-based producer Darius Syrossian has a dance music version of that famous rule he explains to me over a video call from his kitchen.


"Don't try to please the masses," is his advice for house music ride-or-dies. "If you look at the spectrum of people that go clubbing, 80% go because they think it's the thing to do," he continues. You know the type. They only ended up at the rave because Instagram said so, and after two years, they've settled into "normal" life while you're still chasing the beat.

"Make music for yourself. Stick to your sound. Don't keep jumping on bandwagons or fads. Make what makes you in your heart feel it. And then that will connect with the other 20% of people who are searching to find artists like you."




This core principle is the key to Syrossian's years of success. After decades in dance music: first as a raver, then spending 14 years working in record stores, and finally, as a multi-hyphenate that has DJed almost every major club and festival in the world, released on esteemed labels like Defected, Hot Creations, and his own Moxy Muzik, and sat at the epicenter of several dance music institutions, his passion for house music is relentless. A man of fierce opinion, Syrossian holds fast to the core ethos of the rave movement and its counter-culture roots. "It's getting to a point where lately there's a lot of people going to the raves, and they claim to be into the music and stuff. But if you don't understand the culture of this music, you shouldn't be into it. Because this music is about forgetting my problems and bringing people together."




It makes sense that someone with this kind of unwavering dedication to the culture and music had an early life that coded dance and electronic into his musical DNA. There was seldom a time in his childhood that music wasn't somewhere nearby. He remembers his parents playing funk and disco and his uncle, who he says "used to drive around in this big American Buick," listening to New Order, The Eurythmics, and other 80's electronic on cassettes. He eventually got a dual cassette deck, where he would record rudimentary mix tapes, the beginnings of putting a DJ set together.



His brother, however, may have had the most significant impact on young Darius. "My older brother was friends with some people that used to do security at illegal raves. I used to listen to their tapes and cassettes, and it was like early acid house kind of music. I knew that it was more than just music to me. I just wanted to know more about what this music is."

When he was 16, he got the chance when his brother's friends snuck him into a rave they were running security for. At the time, big beat acts like The Prodigy and Italo house inundated the UK. Syrossian found his way to a side tent playing US house and fell in love.




And while the music was the driving force, the raver ethos of acceptance made living in England a more bearable experience. "It was more than the music for me because when I first came to the UK, I used to get quite a lot of racism at school...I knew that when I went to the rave, people did not treat me like an outsider," he explains. Syrossian was born in Iran and emigrated to the UK as a child. Growing up in conservative-led England of the 80s was challenging. The rave scene provided solace. "It was a mixture of all kinds of people. And I realized that with this music, it was bringing people together, so that in itself was something that I really liked. But I also love the fucking music!"

Beyond the sanctity of the dancefloor, Syrossian learned some of his most important lessons in the next phase of his life. For over a decade, he worked in record shops in the North of the UK, most notably at the celebrated (And now sadly closed) Leeds shop Crash Records. For six days a week, he absorbed music from every corner. It wasn't just house and techno. He picked up an education in garage, disco, and everything in between.




Widely known for his range as a performer, he says a lot of what he understands of how to read a dancefloor can be traced back to learning how to read his customers.

"So you're coming across all different types of music, but you're selling it to people and you're learning what makes people feel something about a record."



That understanding has served him well. While he may not appear on top 100 DJ lists (not that he cares to either), he's regularly called upon to play at the world's most respected events. He's held residencies at the legendary Sankeys with Steve Lawler's ViVa Warriors Tribal Sessions, Amnesia with Do Not Sleep, and was a part of Space Ibiza's historic closing season. And when I speak to him, he says he recently went B2B with Jamie Jones. He humbly mentions that while Jones usually goes "back to back with the absolute top-end DJs," Jamie cited Syrossian's range as the reason for the set.

For all the plaudits and accolades, Darius is unphased yet grateful for having spent so many years as the cornerstone of so many brands. However, in 2019 he felt it was finally time to do something of his own. After wrapping up a 19-show run to close Space Ibiza with Carl Cox, he got more offers than ever. "I was getting these gigs, where it was massive capacity, I was going all over the world. But I realized that the bigger the capacity, the less people are fully into [it]. And you get under pressure to play bigger tunes, things I necessarily didn't really want to play. And I just thought, 'I want to go back to playing what I want to play.'"



Moxy is an extension of the ideals and musical footprint that Syrossian initially fell in love with. As a label, Moxy Muzik exposes fresh talent, dropping records from Demuir, Luuk Van Dijk, Fleur Shore, and Sosa. As an event promoter, he's bringing back the chase of the underground. In his early days, he remembers parties that required everyone to show up to a secret location so they could caravan to the rave. At the same time, a fake meet-up was scheduled to take the cops in the opposite direction. Moxy Muzik parties have taken on a similar mystique. His "secret sessions" feature no flyers and no announced lineups. Just a pin dropped on a map the day of the party.

Syrossian understands that dance music has changed since those halcyon days of the open-air rave. However, if his 80/20 rule holds firm, its spirit is resolute. And despite underground cultures diminishing with more access to choice, he says house music will never die.




"So imagine the scene is a tree, right?" he explains, holding up his arms to form a trunk. "Every year, you get different flowers and blossoms. And then it goes. And next year, new leaves and blossoms come and go. These are the fads that come and go, but the trunk of the tree that's there every year, this is house and techno. That's how I see it. And these give birth to the other fads you know, the minimal, fucking garage, nu disco, fucking this, breaks, trance. But house is what gives birth to all of those things. And what I love is that it's never going to go out of fashion."

At 34, Italian DJ/producer Marco Faraone has both the youthful energy of his "little raver" days falling in love with electronic music at Tuscany's Tenax—where he cut his teeth with his first residency at 23—and the expansive catalog and perspective of a seasoned vet.


He wants the kids to know that super high BPM dance music they're calling hard techno is actually hardcore or gabber. While he's experimented with many styles of electronic music himself, often falling somewhere between techno and house, he is passionate about setting the record straight about the current confusion around techno, particularly because of social media.

"When people started going faster, I stuck to techno with a good vibe and groove. Groove needs to be there. Techno isn't only bass and kick," he asserts.




Yet experimentation and exploring a wide range of sounds within and across house and techno is core to Faraone's diverse sound. "I feel like it's creative to challenge yourself to make something different… I want to surprise myself first," Faraone says. Maintaining the element of surprise has allowed him to showcase his unbounded vision of techno and house on disparate labels, including Drumcode, Rekids, Desolat, Defected, Ovum, Filth on Acid, and his own UNCAGE imprint.







Not that he's done exploring and pushing his creative boundaries by any means, but he feels he's tapped into almost all the sounds he's wanted and is proud of his catalog. He even impressed legendary New York DJ Danny Tenaglia—a personal hero he's been listening to since the beginning—with the breadth of his sound.

"During the pandemic, [Danny] was like 'Marco, send me some music. I'm rebuilding my sets for when we start to play again, so I'm collecting as much music as possible from all my friends and the artists I like.' I sent him a folder with 300 released and unreleased tracks, everything of mine. He responded, 'Marco, I'm surprised by the big range of music and different styles you have produced. I went through all these tracks and they are all different from each other. Your musical spectrum is so large; it's really surprising to see an artist doing all these kinds of music.' This is just what I love to do," the "Hey DJ" producer reflects proudly.




He's most proud of his more experimental productions, including his 2020 album No Filter on Rekids, which he sees as his best music, the ambient-leaning album HOPE with reporter Ian Urbina, his most challenging project to work on, and the Our Freedom four-tracker on Drumcode, which he spent almost a year on, perfecting its intricate sound design.




Faraone relocated from Italy to Barcelona in 2018 and immediately felt at home. "Spain in this moment is on fire! It's amazing. They have so many great festivals, so many amazing events. It's a pleasure to play in Spain. The productions, the vibe, the people, the energy is unique," he exclaims when asked about the electronic scene in Barcelona. It's important to him to live in a city that exposes his joy and reflects his positivity and friendliness. He's found that there and feels it's reflected in his music.

"[Barcelona] is a city where you can grow artistically," he asserts. His favorite club in Barcelona is Input, where he'll be doing an UNCAGE showcase on June 13, during the upcoming Sónar Festival, with Alan Fitzpatrick, Avision, and a surprise special guest. He also loves Pacha Barcelona and the Brunch in the Park party series. And during the summers, he lives just across the Mediterranean Sea in Ibiza.




Ibiza has changed a lot since he first visited 15 years ago. The rising costs have priced out many potential visitors, making it difficult for big clubs to consistently draw the massive crowds they need to survive. "Big clubs are suffering. We miss the ravers!" he says. Some have adjusted by catering to VIP clientele, but not Amnesia, his favorite on the island.




"Amnesia is the one that's stayed true to its roots. I've loved it since I was a little raver. The terrace is the same as it's always been. Every place in Amnesia reminds me of a moment, that's why it's special to me. They keep it real," he says with a smile.

In his view, the change on the island isn't necessarily for better or worse. It has positives and negatives, and everyone must make the best of it. Yet because of the shifting audience base and the need to get people in the door, he feels, "You can't play a super crazy underground set in Ibiza." But at Amnesia, you can still catch that old-school Ibiza rave energy.



You catch him regularly at Pyramid, Amnesia's stacked Sunday series, and guest slots at other artists' Amnesia residencies, including Jamie Jones' Paradise.




Soon, he'll return stateside for shows in Los Angeles, San Diego, and New York—at Brooklyn's Knockdown Center for a Gray Area-hosted open-air with Will Clarke on June 9, which he's excited for. "I try to do different sets depending on the party and city, it's always different. I try to put myself there."

UNCAGE is the perfect platform to showcase his expansive sound. He's building a sonic universe alongside a select group of artists. For him, making music still feels like a hobby, and he spends six to eight hours a day in the studio. He also listens to every demo sent to him, totaling about 300-400 tracks weekly. He's proud of how many new artists they've signed "from scratch," giving them a space to showcase their vision of dance music.




"We've discovered some great talent," he says proudly, adding: "I appreciate when people keep sending us music after we sign them…the way to build a career is to believe in your project." He finds it disappointing when artists forget their roots and the people that helped them get to where they are when they make it big, instead always reaching for bigger and better. It's gratifying to do multiple releases with the same artist and be a part of their continued growth.




Speaking of roots, Faraone's are very much at Tenax in Florence, the club where he fell in love with dance music as a teen, realized he wanted to be a DJ, and had his first residency. "Tenex is a club where I really discovered the beauty of electronic music," he says with admiration. "[It's been around] 40 years and is one of the most legendary clubs in Italy. And I can say about Tenax almost the same things I said about Amnesia; they've always maintained their roots, their name, the credibility, the quality."

One of his first releases was on Tenax Records in 2008, which was one of the most prominent Italian house labels at the time. This was a huge dream come true then and still provides him with a sense of awe. He had a second release on Tenax in 2017, the Horizon EP, which featured a remix of "Double Faces" by Chicago house queen Honey Dijon.


"It was like going to school. For me, every time I was going to Tenex, musically I was learning something. I was coming back home with something; with a moment, with a track with some inspiration," he reflects. "I was coming back home sitting in my studio in the garage at my parent's house and I was literally spending my entire day making music with the inspiration I was taking from my old time ravey days at Tenax."



And Tenax is still home to him, the club he most looks forward to playing every year. He started as a warm-up DJ there back in 2012, and it formed the foundation for his dancefloor education. Now he gets to play six-hour sets there.

"I can't wait to be back. Every year I play in this club and every time it's like Christmas, it's like my birthday. I can't express the feeling. It's a place where I go and all my friends are coming to party all together. It's a party for a huge big family."




The first records that got him excited about dance music include Jaydee's 1993 classic house anthem "Plastic Dreams," which was the first electronic track he bought on vinyl, secondhand, from a little record shop in his hometown of Lucca. Another one of the early dance records he bought and loved was a popular Italian dance—the national rave sound big at the time—track, "Emergency 911" from Prezioso featuring Marvin. He recently sampled this record on a track that should be coming out soon, bringing his early Italian influences to 2023. Laurent Garnier's 2000 horn-led house gem "The Man with the Red Face" and Paul Woolford's 2006 earworm featuring Bobby Peru, "Erotic Discourse"—which got him up to techno and opened his perspective of electronic music—are also among the tracks that had a profound and lasting impact on him.




"15 years ago, I was so happy when I bought this vinyl ['Erotic Discourse'] and was playing it. [Now] I'm playing with this guy. Man, life is crazy. Music is magic!" he gushes of his recent B2B with Woolford at Amnesia's 2023 season opener.




While he's already checked off many items on his DJ bucket list, there are still a few others he has his eyes on, including playing Detroit's legendary Movement Festival and doing a B2B with his hero Laurent Garnier.




"Laurent Garnier is my favorite DJ. He is an artist that has been supporting me a lot for a long time, reacting to every promo we send from the label and all my tracks. Laurent Garnier is the fucking man! He replies to every email I send him; he's a real gentleman. Besides the respect I have for him as an artist and as a DJ, I really respect him as a person. So, it would be a huge honor for me to share the decks with him one day," Faraone says with a big smile.




Above all, he really just wants to "forever be able to make good music" and keep being happy with what he's doing and staying true to what he loves to do.




"There is no festival, no gig, no back-to-back, no track, nothing that can be more important than [being] happy with what you're doing. If you're not happy what you're doing, it's better you stop and you leave space for people that are happier than you because this is what people read in your eyes. They read in your eyes if you are lying, or if you enjoy what you're doing, if you're communicating your message with the music, or if you are just doing something for money or hype. It's always important to stay true to yourself and to maintain this is the most challenging part," Faraone implores.

With his signature cap and a killer smile, SPINALL has undoubtedly become the poster child for Afrobeats. His impressive catalog has led to a massive fan base that spans Africa, North America, and Europe. SPINALL is greatly recognized for his hit singles, supreme skills on the decks, and collaborations with the likes of Burna Boy, Wizkid, Fireboy DML, DJ Snake, and more. He is also one the few Afrobeat DJs to tour Africa, the UK, and the United States with memorable performances at MTV's European Music Awards, One Africa, and Glastonbury festivals.






When did you fall in love with music?




I fell in love with music at a very early age. I remember my parents listening to a lot of records. So I grew up listening to a lot of stuff, and I would say that that's where my passion came from.




How has the way you make music evolved over the years?




My music has evolved over the years tremendously, and that came also very organically. We can all see the trajectory, too; it's out there. I think that it's been a blessing, and I'm grateful for that.




How important is it to be unapologetically true to yourself as an artist?




That's the only way; there's no other way. It's the law, and you gotta follow the law. You have to stay real, stay original, and keep it authentic. That's the best way you can create. People will understand who you are and what you do. Stay true; that's the only way.


Let's talk about your latest album, Top Boy. Where did the title come from?




Top Boy is a genderless term for anyone who is striving to overcome. No matter what someone has been through, as long as they are always striving to be better for themselves. Whoever does that is definitely a Top Boy.










What is the first step when you begin working on a new project?




It's usually very simple. Sometimes I wait till I get motivated or inspired, and I'm not one of those artists who needs to be in the forest to be inspired. As long as I breathe, I'm inspired. I'm inspired by little things, by people on the streets, what people say, how people dance, how people laugh, how they smile, the work I'm in, I mean life itself, so everything is an inspiration, you know? Because I don't make one style of music, I spin all types of music: R&B, hip hop, Afrobeats, house. It depends on how I'm feeling.




You have a refined ability to blend different genres and support the musicians you collaborate with in bringing their greatest self to a song. What has been your biggest lesson while working on a collaboration?




Patience. Understanding that due process has to take place. Patience is not just waiting. Patience is waiting in character, waiting in your mannerisms and in your respect. So that's what I have learned so far. When you feature people or when people feature you, it's two different worlds trying to coexist. They have to coexist first before they can produce anything. So when we coexist, I understand you, you understand me, then we can make beautiful music out of it.

I'm grateful for all the talents I've been working with and who I'm still working with because they see the vision; not a lot of people see the vision. For those that saw the vision, they are reaping tremendously from their visions. So patience, I would say, and I think this applies to all walks of life as well. I think that no matter what you do, you just have to be extremely patient if you want anything to come to fruition.




You have worked with huge artists like Wizkid, Asake, Tiwa Savage, and DJ Snake. Is there anyone you haven't worked with yet that you want to collaborate with?




I would love to collaborate with basically anyone who gets the vision. And I think that I would also love to collaborate with somebody who wants to try something different. Somebody who is very open-minded to be experimental with the sound. Like if you typically make R&B, can I up the tempo a little bit when we wanna work? If you typically make rap music, can I swing you on Afro? So that's how I create my music. You'll hear someone like Amaarae on my album and be like, ooh, what is this? I try to make something unique and unexpected, and I think that's the magic we've been able to create. Also, I would love to collaborate with some of the people I used to look up to coming up. I would love to collaborate with them because I know they have so much experience that it'll be good to learn from them.




Afrobeat has conquered a large part of the world, and you are one of its biggest stars. How far can the phenomenon go?




I would say, how far do we think Afrobeats has come? That's the first question, and once we do the calculation, then imagine how far more it could possibly go. My advice is that people should just keep making the best art. I think the music is speaking for itself, and everybody gets the memo. So it's amazing to see Africa on the rise, at least in some positive news.







What has been the stand-out moment of your career so far?




There's been a lot. If I could pick one, it would be the day I made the decision I was going to DJ. So, I studied electrical electronics engineering in university. And all through my uni days, I was always sneaking out of school to go to the radio station, and I always had this confusion of whether I should practice what I'm studying or should I choose this? I was confused. I was going crazy, you know? Finally, it hit me that my heart is where my soul lies. So I just decided to follow my heart. It wasn't as easy as I'm saying now, but you know, that day, I was able to make the decision. Then I became focused. So, I bless that day.




The second day that I would say that has been one of the special moments in my career might be when I found out that I'm gonna be performing at the Glastonbury Festival; that was special. The other time that was special, I would say, was when Beyonce invited us to Parkwood Studios. She was working on an album at the time, the Lion King project. So she invited a lot of artists from Africa, myself, DJs, a lot of artists. So many people that didn't make the album were in the studio trying to work on the project. That was really special because people really don't think of DJs when they think of making a project of that magnitude. A lot of people supposedly are supposed to know that DJs are important in rooms like that. So for someone like Beyonce, who is like the boss, looks into Africa and said, "oh, I want DJ SPINALL to spin on this camp," that means I have been doing something special. I also got to meet a lot of people and learn from them; that was mind-blowing.




I always say Iyanu a Sele (a Yoruba proverb). It means "there will be a miracle." People should not be afraid to go after their dreams; go after your dreams for your own fulfillment. A lot of people are not fulfilled because they're still not doing what they're meant to be doing. I think I enjoyed the process of my come-up also. Even in studying engineering, you could tell, step by step, in every construction, and that's the trajectory of making beats when I make beats in the studio. We start small, then we build, and it becomes a big song, so I'm grateful that I get to experience all of this.




You give a lot of energy on stage. Which city gives it back to you the most?




I think all the cities I've performed at had a big vibe. If I look back in time, I say every time I throw a party, here, what's the vibe. But I'll say London, New York, and Lagos. We're excited to be back in New York in June. I've not done a show in New York in a minute, so it's for sure it's going to be a good one.




What would you like your legacy to represent in the years to come?




That's a tough one…that I truly care. I care not just about music but about humanity itself. I care about how we treat one another. I care about mutual love, I care about fairness, I care about culture, I care about life itself.

From his Miami-based studio, Jordan Postrel, aka m.O.N.R.O.E., grins like a child in a candy store as the camera pans across his toys. He has an easy-going yet sharp and witty air, nicely personified by his laid-back body language and "USE HEARING PROTECTION" embossed black shirt.




Curious about the beginnings of his musical life, I enquired about his familial roots within the industry.




"My dad used to be a producer in the 70s for James Brown and Tina Turner," he explains. "When we were kids, he tried getting us into it, but what five and seven-year-old really wants to play the piano? So, my brother and I never got into it."




There go my visions of family car ride sing-a-longs, and sitting in on daddy's recording sessions. But, rather than paternal inspiration, it seems that Miami's nightlife scene was what set Postrel's soul on fire.




"As a kid in Miami, you get a fake ID, you start to go out to places you shouldn't be. Before you know it, you're like, 'Oh, I like this stuff... I wanna get into DJing!' So when I was 17, I got into DJing. Very cliche thing to do."




Very few lucky souls find what it is in life that lights them up and make a career out of it, but for Jordan, it seemed to come naturally.




"When I was 18, I was like, 'Okay, I really want to make this a job. I got to get into production.' So for the first three months, I forced myself to make production fun and get myself into that habit and lifestyle. And then, from there, it just evolved. When I was 22, that's when I actually started playing an instrument for the first time. I started taking piano lessons. But from 18 to 22, it was all Ableton, and then from there, it just progressed more and more."




After he graduated high school, he was pretty much self-taught. He found mentors and collaborators, spending a few summers in Ibiza. But it wasn't until he turned 23, when he'd honed his skills and sound a little more, that he began releasing music under his name.




"I wanted to make sure a lot of my stuff was as strong as some of the things that I was playing. And I wanted to make sure that it would also fit into my sets. I kind of was like a little all over the place in the beginning and just because I just like so many different things."




It started slowly for Postrel, a few small gigs here and there, and when he hit 25, things started to kick off with bigger bookings and tours. However, COVID soon came knocking and put the brakes on. But Jordan used this time productively, and with the cards dealt to him, he managed to make the most of his time in lockdown.




"I tried doing a little bit for a sample company, and I was like, yeah, this is cool, but this is way too much, way too time-consuming. So I got into doing production and other genres for other people. And that was very beneficial because it would teach you a whole other set of skills with production that you wouldn't typically use or think of because you're doing dance music. And that was cool because I could apply different things that I learned from this to that, different songwriting techniques… It also helped me create a second source of income. So now my DJing's back up again. Now I have like two flows of cash, which is a lot nicer."




For many artists, making a career with a financial income strong enough to support themselves is tough, and they may find that family support wanes. But when a parent is already an artist, does that change how supportive they are of their offspring?




"Definitely more supportive. Connection-wise, he doesn't have any more connections in the music industry because he got out in '74. So everything I did in the music industry was just me personally going out and hustling and doing it for myself. But the best thing he provided for me was the comfort of time. And he was willing to support me my first several years when I first got into music," Postrel explains. "I know I also have other friends that didn't have that luxury, and they had to hustle their ass off and work a job on the side to also pay rent so they could focus on music. But, like if you have the ability to have free time to focus on what you do, that's the most important thing in the beginning."




I was curious to learn more about his work within production and whether or not being a producer was favorable over the sometimes antisocial hours of being a DJ.

"No, I like them the same. They're both different types of fun. I mean, I love being in a studio. It's just like there's a certain like vibe and 'je ne sais quoi' to it. But DJing's super fun! I always say I'm a DJ first, producer second, because everything I do with production it's from a DJ's point of view and how it would work on a dancefloor. I love the DJ part, but," he continues, "I don't really love the traveling."




Traveling can be an integral part of a DJ's career. However, despite the jetlag and the rushing through airport security, is the destination better than the journey?




"Berlin's always been really fun… a really trippy city. They'll be like, hey, you want to play from 6 am to noon? And I'm like, yeah, I do! I'll do that. Walk out of there like a fried twig. Also fucking Amsterdam. That place is sick. That club Bret, insane. It's tiny and it sounds great! Right now my focus is releasing on some more labels that are European based so I can come out there more and play ADE and some of the bigger parties out there."




A festival that has always bemused me with awe and wonder is Burning Man. I see it as an ethereal mythical land of which I've heard fond distant stories yet have not had the chance to experience myself. But seeing is believing, right? Lucky for me, I got to hear more stories of the mythical dusty land from Jordan, who managed to find the door to Narnia. Sorry, I mean, the Playa.




"I went with my brother, and then my dad showed up at Burning Man in a khaki suit on Wednesday, and I was just, oh my God. I was like, 'Dad, you didn't get the fucking memo.' Everyone there's running around with nipples out, wearing tutus, and all this crazy shit. It was pretty funny. I got hooked. So I started going every year. I worked with a couple of camps, and then I got adopted by this camp called DISTRIKT, and we're the largest day party at Burning Man. It's anywhere between five to 12,000 people a day that come in and out of our camp. It's a little bit like Mad Max-style partying."

From his first dust-covered experience, he's evolved into a sand-seasoned Burner veteran. Beyond the timeless memories, his work with DISTRIKT has evolved into much more. DISTRIKT is a non-profit organization that supports artists by giving them a platform to grow.




"When I started meeting them at first, I was like, you guys have a great brand. We should start a label or something. And they were like, 'Okay, let's talk about it.' A week later, they called me back. They were like, 'okay, let's do this.' We set it all up and we've been working since. And right now we're actually about to launch like eight or ten events right before Burning Man and we have a bunch of others coming up this year. And we have some really cool releases coming out on the label now too."




But beyond the studio, the DJing, the producing, and the playa, I asked Jordan what he gets up to away from it all.




"Probably learning stuff on YouTube or fishing, one of the two. It doesn't take a lot to keep me happy. I like to do this stuff, and then I need some other activities outside of the music world to center my focus. There's a saying, if you want to cut down a tree, you need to step away to sharpen your blade. So, doing this all the time, kind of drains me of all my creative juices."




I find it fascinating how when one removes themselves from a situation in which they feel pressure to create, produce or be constructive, it causes the opposite. From a personal standpoint, I find that when I'm working out, gardening, horse-riding, or doing anything that induces a meditative trance, the ideas somehow flow through to me.




"Oh, 100%! When I'm out in the water, it's that whole concept of doing something and not really thinking too much about it. And it just kind of passes, ideas will kind of just come into your head. And when we're fishing and stuff, we'll be playing music and talking shit with your friends, smoking weed, whatever the fuck. And then I'll sometimes just get ideas in my head and I'll just pull my phone out, write it down real quick, or I'll make a voice note or something. I just notice when I stay in this studio too long, and I don't get out, that's when things get a little stale."




Keep the fishing up, m.O.N.R.O.E., because whatever you're doing out on that water is working! The rest of this year is predictably jam-packed; I almost worry he might not have time to get out his pole and line! With gigs coming up in Argentina, Brazil, and Europe, but "only for like three weeks this summer just because of me being an American artist, things are kind of busy for me over here," DISTRIKT playing in New York, San Francisco, Montreal at Stereo and Vegas! Oh, and not forgetting his monthly party in Miami, "Private Parts"... Mind out the gutters, please!




There is so much going on in the life of m.O.N.R.O.E. that it really could take any direction. However, I was curious to learn what the big dream truly is.




"Just start up a successful event with a good label, tour as much as possible. I would like to win a Grammy one day for stuff outside of dance music, but who knows? If I'm enjoying it, I'm gonna keep doing it, see where it takes me. You never really know where it's gonna lead. The best part of the adventure is the journey there."




Unlike his travels across the globe, Jordan seems to enjoy the journey rather than overthinking about the destination. We look forward to seeing what comes next on his path to the Grammy. See you on the Playa, m.O.N.R.O.E!

Only a few short years ago, Massano looked up to melodic techno figureheads such as Tale of Us and Mind Against as distant role models. Today, the Liverpool producer and DJ counts them among his close peers.




Look no further for evidence than what transpired at Afterlife Madrid in March 2023. Not only did Massano (real name Sam Rose) share the stage with Afterlife bosses Tale of Us, but the duo tested out his cinematic single, “Shutdown,” during their set.

“Madrid felt extra special to me. I’d had a month off before that, so it was a big show to test all this new music,” Rose says. “To get such great reactions was confirmation that it had been a good month of producing.”




Support from major acts and crowds in the tens of thousands is now a common occurrence for Rose. Prior to the pandemic, though, it seemed a remote possibility.




Sam Rose first discovered dance music as a child. His father would play it around the house and even brought him to a Faithless concert when he was only 11 years old.




“I remember looking around and seeing people enjoying the rave and just being like, ‘What is going on?’” he says. “It seemed like chaos at the time, but now it seems really normal.”




This initial exposure didn’t evolve into a career ambition overnight. “I wasn’t super into it from that stage — that’s just my earliest memories it,” Rose says. “I think around the time I started going to house parties was when I started getting really into electronic music and found a love for discovering new music and making playlists to share it with people.”




By Rose’s first year of university in Lancaster, the music industry started to beckon. In this nascent stage, though, he still hadn’t set his sights on DJing and producing.




“I started thinking about what I wanted to do long term in life, and what interested me the most was this music stuff that I was doing. I didn’t necessarily think ‘I want to be a DJ.’ I just started thinking about what I could do to get into the music industry in any way because I hadn’t really had experience with any of it.”




Sam Rose started applying for management internships with brands like Universal Music Group. As luck would have it, they only wanted candidates with experience. Around the same time, he started teaching himself how to produce and play music as a hobby. Not long afterward, he began to pursue it in earnest.




“I was aimlessly doing it and not really putting much energy into it. I’d say I was producing maybe twice a week at that stage, and then DJing just for fun occasionally,” Rose says. “But then, I started thinking, ‘I’m actually really enjoying the producing and the DJing,’ so I thought that it might actually be what I wanted to do within the music industry.”




He continues: “After my second year of university, I started pushing myself to do as much as I could and spend as much time as possible on it. I moved to London for an internship where I was working with Vodafone in a marketing role. But whilst working for Vodafone, I was also pushing myself to spend as much time as I could on the music.”




Rose suffered from homesickness, having yet to make new friends in London. In the long run, this worked to his advantage. Relegated to his bedroom studio on the weekends, he gave music his undivided attention. It didn’t take long for this to come back to him in the form of opportunities.




“In the six months after that, I got to a point where I was ready to start releasing music,” Rose says. “I’d try and work from home as much as I could, keeping the laptop from work open on one screen while I worked on music on the other screen. That’s when I made my biggest track, ‘The Feeling,’ — and ‘Velocità’ was also in that six months.”






Rose released his music under the name Massano from the beginning. “I brainstormed and made anagrams of my name. I thought about which ones I liked the most, and in the end, I went with Massano,” he says. “Not often do people stick with the first project, so I figured I didn’t need to think too much about it. I love the name now especially, as it’s got a lot of meaning to me.”




A lot of Afterlife artists co-signed Massano early on — perhaps most notably Mind Against. The Italian duo played his tracks at Afterlife Tulum 2020, and then again during their Cercle set later in January.




“I didn’t even have an Instagram,” Rose admits. “The next morning, the label manager from Running Clouds told me, “You need to make an Instagram now because people are looking for you. I made one, and within the first couple of days, I had, like, a thousand followers already.”




Timing was not on Massano’s side, however. Two months later, the World Health Organization declared COVID a pandemic, preventing him from leveraging his newfound popularity toward gigging.




Over the next year and a half, Rose stocked his proverbial shelves with new music and then opened for business once nightlife resumed. “Things went from zero to 100 because I’d grown so much without really DJing,” he says. “I’d DJed in friends’ house parties and smaller local clubs for university, but never anything properly as a Massano show. So then after COVID, I went from having not so much gig experience to getting booked every weekend.”




Massano has continued to gain momentum ever since. He has performed throughout Europe and South America, landing on the lineups of such festivals as Time Warp Brazil and Kappa FuturFestival in Italy. 2023 also marked his first US tour dates, including a headline billing at NYC club Superior Ingredients.




“What’s great about the shows is it’s noticeable how much if you work at it in different markets, the shows keep getting bigger and you keep engaging more fans. It’s nice to see the your effort pay off,” Rose says.




Cliquing up with his heroes doesn’t mean he’s reached his destination in the music world. Far from it, in fact. The road up to now offers a mere glimpse at what lies in store for Massano as he’s only begun to explore the depth of his sound.

After finding individual success, melodic house and techno producer Jonas Rathsman and vocalist Franz Novotny joined to create Modern Tales. Amid the pandemic, the brothers felt driven to collaborate, but rather than drawing on their individual musical backgrounds, they decided to start the project as a blank sonic canvas. Their collaborative musical vision has resulted in a sincere, naturally expressive collection of works. Their music reflects the human experience through beautiful, melancholic vocals and creative production that blurs the line between indie and electronic.




The duo has since captivated crowds with stunning live shows while supporting RÜFÜS DU SOL on tour, eventually leading to Modern Tales signing to the legendary Australian group's label Rose Avenue. RÜFÜS DU SOL established Rose Avenue, which houses Lastlings, Cassian, ANYMA, and other artists, to provide a stage for up-and-coming acts embodying the particular electronic music genre that inspires them. The most experimental project on Rose Avenue to date, Modern Tales, explores fresh sounds while upholding the label's ethereal aesthetic.




Gray Area speaks to the duo about their journey in coming together sonically as brothers to form Modern Tales.

What is the story behind you coming together to form Modern Tales?




Jonas: Well, I mean, first of all, we're brothers, so that's one connection. It's like we started this sync project together during the pandemic, where we wanted to make music for movies and films, and that evolved into what it is today. We realize it's more than a synth project. It's an artist project. We both got really inspired and motivated, and now, we've made an album together, and this is something we want to proceed and focus on as an artist project.

Franz: It was something that came very naturally during Covid. We were a bit tired of our own projects at that specific moment, and we wanted to try something new. So it just became something completely new creatively, which was very nice.





Why did you pick Modern Tales for the name of your duo?

Jonas: We went through thousands of names. We both wanted to somehow incorporate storytelling, stories, or tales. When we started off the single project, every single track had a story. Modern Tales just sounded really cool, so we both agreed on the name. We've been getting a lot of praise for the name, which is nice.




Franz: It's funny because we went through so many names, and that one really stuck with us instantly. There were a lot of serious suggestions—a lot of bad names as well, like Broforce.







How was it touring with RÜFÜS DU SOL, and how did that come to be?




Jonas: It started with us sending the music. When we finished the full album, we wanted to show it to someone. I'd met the RÜFÜS guys on tour years ago, and we became friends, and I felt like they would appreciate the music. So actually, it was John—he was the first guy I sent the music to. The day after, he sent an email saying he loved the music and wanted to sign everything to Rose Avenue. The day after that, we got an offer to support them on the European tour, and we'd never even thought about playing live.




That was your first time forming live as Modern Tales. How did you feel your audiences received you?




Franz: They loved it. The Rufus guys as well. They were so lovely, and their whole team was amazing. We felt very comfortable even though it was completely new to us.




Jonas: Yeah, it's different. Playing live is a different machinery, which is also very exciting, and it's a challenge, but it's a nice challenge. So we're looking forward to more.







Congratulations on your debut single, "Monster," can you tell us what it's about and what inspired it?




Franz: Oh, so it's funny because it started as one of our very first songs we made together, and it sounded completely different to what it sounds like today. It was called "Monster" back then. It didn't have any vocals, but it had some completely different synths and melodies. Then, after a year or so, we revisited the song and made it sound like what it sounds like today. Then we started writing on it and singing on it, and so on. I think the name came first, and then I think the lyrics adapted around it.




Jonas: I think "Monster" stands for everything that is in your way of success. Like, "How do you get rid of your monsters?" I think that this monster is about a person—someone who is standing in the way of growth or freedom.












You blend well together.




Jonas: We've tried to produce music together, but we never really found a way to work together. During the pandemic, we dropped all the barriers and [said] Let's do something new that we are proud of. I think that's how it came together. That's why it works so well, because we're making music that we both like, and we don't really care about anyone else. It's selfish.




Franz: But it's very hard too, because we're both producers and would come from two different worlds. When it comes to the music side, usually, in my experience, it's very hard for two producers to work with each other in one room because it's two producers and there's one computer.




Jonas: It's really hard to work with you…




Franz: No… but it's just very tough to make that work. Sometimes it really works. Sometimes the spark is there, but for us, I think it's really clear.




I bet you are excited to be in Mexico for the Sun Dream Festival this May. What can we expect from your upcoming live performance?




Jonas: We're on the same stage as MonoLink and Weval and Rufus! It's a live performance stage, and I love Monolink. Weval is one of my favorite bands, so just being on the same stage as them is going to be something really special. We've done the support tour, which is a bit different because you don't get the same volume on the sound, you don't get the same attention, you don't get the same light shows, but this is basically our first real performance on stage. So yeah, we're going to start rehearsing in the next few weeks.




Franz: They can expect a longer version of our live show because we had to stick to thirty minutes when we were supporting RÜFÜS DU SOL. We will incorporate some new music.




Jonas: Yeah, a bit more of a clubby vibe for sure, but also emotional.




Franz: Yeah, we're going to make sure that it fits Sun Dream and the people over there




Jonas: Yeah, we're crazy excited. They just announced the second weekend as well, so we're going to be there for two weeks, which is awesome.




Franz: Yeah, Looking forward to the spicy margaritas




What are your long-term goals: How do you wish to be remembered as a duo?




Franz: We have some big goals, I think. At least I want to do huge festivals, and we want our music to be in huge movies.




Jonas: You have bigger goals than I do. I'm just happy if I can work with music until I die and put food on the table for my kids, then I'm happy. I've been doing it for 20 years, so we're living in the dream in a way. We're doing what we love.




Franz: There are some amazing venues and some amazing festivals that we definitely want to play.




Jonas: Yeah, play a live show at Burning Man or whatever. We're both really attracted to films and the visual language connected to music. I think it makes it so much stronger. So that would be awesome to work with film. So much to do, so little time.




What can your listeners look forward to from you as individuals and as Modern Tales?




Jonas: We have Modern Tales, but we also have our individual projects, which are still going. I mean, you're producing a lot of music for other artists and yourself as well. Same goes for me. I'm producing my own stuff on the side; well, I mean parallel. I think the Modern Tales stuff is the music that triggers me more, and I feel more excited about. We've done almost two albums with Modern Tales. I get inspired to do my own stuff from the Modern Tales stuff. Also, my latest track has Franz' vocals on it. So we're helping each other out. Everything goes hand in hand.




Franz: Modern Tales, as you say, sparked a lot of creativity and a lot of passion in general for music. It's always fun to make something completely different to what you're doing. So, for example, I have EDM DJs and people that are in a completely different world that I'm producing for, but it's fun. That also, in some way, brings something to Modern Tales.




Jonas: It's a big mishmash of influences in our music. I come from one side, from disco, old-school hip-hop, and house. Franz has EDM and drum and bass, and trance. I think people are going to hear that when they listen to the album because it's a little bit of everything, and the live shows also have a little bit of everything.




Can you tell us when we can expect the album? Do you have a date?




Jonas: Yeah, I think it's in early June. It's not decided yet. There's going to be a few more singles coming out to tell the story. It's tricky because we're a new act, but we're not really new.




What has been your biggest lesson while working as a duo?

Jonas: Patience, I guess




Franz: Yeah, patience. Collaborating, coming from a world where you're used to working on your own and then suddenly jumping in with someone else…your brother.




Jonas: I rarely fight with people, not like that, but you know, getting into disputes, but with you, I do sometimes, and it's because we're brothers. I guess it's tricky sometimes, but that's why I said patience.




Franz: Patience, and you also have to understand that you have to collaborate and listen.




Jonas: That's definite.

From an early age, UK-based producer Frameworks was inadvertently immersed into a world of creativity. His father, an artist for advertising agencies, would conjure up drawings straight out of his mind and into the hands of marketing executives. However, it was his mother who(seemingly out of nowhere) piqued his musical interests.




Frameworks remembers one holiday season when his mother allowed him and his brother to choose a musical instrument as a Christmas gift. “...he [his brother] was straight away like, guitar,” he recalls. “I sat on it for a couple of weeks and eventually said ‘I’d like a drum kit.”






Although his dedication to art and graphics would eventually lead him to art school, Frameworks pursued his percussion-led passion after joining a band where he played, you guessed it, the drums.




“We played a lot of Manchester venues and stuff like that, kind of small clubs and stuff like that,” he says of his time in a band. “It wasn’t on a big scale. It was just four guys thrashing it out.”




Having pivoted into music, Frameworks left art school and began developing his musical know-how, absorbing everything from performance to jazz and drumming. However, it was a production course that would form the foundation for Frameworks, the DJ and producer we know today.




“There was a module in one of my courses that was more production, and I just fell in love with it,” he expressed. “Just the fact that I could sit and create without having to rely on other people’s schedules and stuff like that. I was just blown away.”




After a brief stint at the renowned record label Ninja Tune, Frameworks knew his career would orbit the electronic music sphere.









“I think it just flipped my head the kind of people that were there. It was just crazy,” he says. “I actually met Diplo in the basement where they were sending out records.”




If you listen to the records that Frameworks produced early in his career, you will notice his musical influences permeate the airwaves. Percussion, strings, and haunting vocals were all part of his identity as a young producer.




“Coming into my music, it was from more of a live perspective,” he speaks on his earlier work. “So my earlier albums were laced with more live instrumentation, some strings, and stuff like that.”




Compare that to his latest album, Reflections, the change in tune is evident. Although the emotional attachment still resonates as it did in his debut EP, Vanish, there’s been a clear shift to more club-oriented releases.




When asked about his shift in sound, Frameworks alludes to his evolving ear saying, “My taste has changed. It’s just become a bit more dancefloor-oriented, especially after the pandemic.”






Frameworks joins countless electronic acts that have pivoted to a more upbeat sound post-pandemic. He recognizes this movement, saying, “I see this too, especially with the UK scene and UK garage coming back a bit,” he continues, “I wasn’t able to have those experiences. From DJing in Manchester quite often to then nothing. That was my fix, you know?”




A married father of three, Frameworks also refers to a shift in focus over the last few years. He credits his wife and children as inspiration for his recent concentration on his craft.




“I’ve always been quite prolific because I’m always writing, always creating something,” he says. “But the last four years I think really, I don’t know, really gone for it, you know what I mean?”




With a sharper focal point, Frameworks has been thriving in the festival circuit outside of his Manchester home. His intricate instrument-led productions have been heard from Costa Rica to Canada, amassing a legion of followers along the way.









Although his career has taken him across varied landscapes, there’s still much to accomplish. “I’d love to go on a big tour,” he exclaims. “I’ve never done a bus tour, so I’d love to tour in a bus. Just you know, support acts for someone big or something like that. I’d love to have the opportunity to do that.”




If Frameworks continues on this upward trajectory, soon enough he will be granted the chance to headline his own cross-country tour, bus and all.

ATRIP’s biography is but one sentence: “I create audible emotion on my laptop.” By intertwining club music with dreamy soundscapes and delicate textures, the South London-based DJ/producer makes rousing songs designed for dancing and feeling. Feeling what, exactly? That’s not for him to decide. “I think that’s the beauty of emotional, wordless electronic music,” he says. “It’s up to you what you make of it.”




For the last three years, ATRIP has been on a personal journey to find emotion in his music. A desire to pivot from his heavier early sound, along with the global pandemic lockdown, catalyzed a long and introspective process: how to make music that was “honest” to oneself? He found part of that answer in the outdoors, namely at a nearby park where he walks his dog, among peace and quiet, trees and sunshine—the opposite of a dark and crowded club setting. And whereas he used to be constricted solely to his desktop to make music, ATRIP now regularly produces on the go via laptop, eager to hear what sounds, textures, and inspiration the universe will bring to him. “Now that I’m talking about it,” he realizes, “a lot of the stuff that I’m doing is almost active steps to like work as freely as possible.”









Nature and curiosity are deeply ingrained in ATRIP’s story. Before making roots in South London, he was born in Poland and raised in Munich, Germany, deep in the countryside, where he often crossed cows, sheep, and pigs on his way to school. His love of music began with long drives to football matches with his dad, who showed him artists ranging from 50 Cent’s G-Unit collective to The Prodigy. His Polish uncle introduced him to trance and hardstyle. ATRIP went through a rock phase and learned to play guitar, but soon he became enamored of electronic music’s mystique. At age 11, he downloaded production software on his mom’s laptop in a quest to uncover its layers.




“When you play an instrument it makes sense to me,” he says. “You put it into a mic, someone plays the drums, you put it together and there you have it. Electronic music was way more abstract to me. It was just curiosity, like, how do you make a synth? What is [a synth]? How do you create those weird bass sounds?”




Over the next near-decade, ATRIP continued to experiment. Initially influenced by international artists like Avicii and Skrillex, he found deeper inspiration in his adopted hometown of London through heavy-bass heroes Magnetic Man, Caspa, Benga, and Nero.




“There’s something about the energy,” he says. “If I hear a very well put-together, super aggressive dubstep tune, it does something to me for some reason.”




In time, he released his own speaker-rattling productions, bass house with flourishes of dubstep and drum & bass, on prominent labels such as Bite This!, Mad Decent, Dim Mak, and Insomniac’s In / Rotation. As ATRIP’s profile rose, he had to factor DJing—something he had only done casually at house parties and school discos—into the equation. All the while, he juggled business management studies at university and working for an artist management company, where he learned about the business side of music, from A&R to royalties to commissioning remixes.









Despite experiencing early success in his career and being armed with invaluable industry knowledge, something was still missing.




“What I learned quite quickly is that as a kid who has always loved making and listening to all sorts of music, it’s a scene that’s… there isn’t a lot of openness to people experimenting,” ATRIP says. The curiosity and experimentation that had once fuelled his love of electronic music had been suppressed. “In German, there’s a saying like, there’s a red thread going through things, which means that there’s a connection; everything adds up and makes sense. I think you can have your tone of voice as a musician without sticking to one genre.”




ATRIP was ready to move on. As he prepared for his first US tour, the universe had other plans. The pandemic shut everything down, leaving him and fellow electronic artists uncertain of when they’d work again. As a slim silver lining, lockdown bought him time to experiment.




“I didn’t know what I wanted to do,” he says, “but I knew it had to feel right to me and not what feels right to the booking agent we’re trying to get booked by. It should always start with you.” He worked with singers, rappers, instrumentalists, and other producers from all around the world over the internet to jumpstart his journey. In a quiet, empty room stripped of the CO2 cannons, lasers, and raucous crowds that had once regularly accompanied his sets, ATRIP found the music he made for no one except himself was more melodic, atmospheric, and filled with emotion. As the world tiptoed back to normalcy, he learned to find the middle-ground between his bedroom creations and club-friendlier sounds.




The first product of this new direction was “Für Immer.” Released in February 2022, the song is both melancholy and hopeful, with a pensive melody and bright vocal sample that thaws its moody, UK garage-influenced production like sunshine on snow. “I called it ‘Für Immer,’ German for ‘forever,’ because trends obviously come and go, but I think ideally you wanna make music that is true to you and that will always last forever,” ATRIP says.




As with “Für Immer,” subsequent tracks like “Elsa,” “Salt,” and “Me + You” came together quickly and with little filter, as he meshed together textures, genres, and rhythms to create immersive songs that are both soaring and anchored by a good bassline, emotionally resonant yet inspire energy and ecstasy on the dancefloor. Songs that, like him, don’t fit neatly into one box.









A little over a year into this iteration of ATRIP, the producer has moved his goalposts for success beyond specific label signings and gigs. Through support from radio presenters and fellow producers is still on the list—though already he’s achieved it with plays from Disclosure, DJ Seinfeld, and BBC Radio 1’s Jaguar—these days, he finds more value in hearing from the people who find their connection to his music, even if they’re not (yet) electronic music fans. “The personal aspect of how [my music] has been perceived makes me wake up everyday and just want to do more,” he says.




“I have never been more honest with the music that I wanna make… it just feels one million percent right. Yeah, it’s happy times for me.”

Rhythm and flow are the building blocks of Emanuel Satie’s musical DNA. They emanate from his being even as we sit on opposite sides of a video call. You can hear it in how he speaks and see it in how he carries himself. Those traits permeate every element of his sonic pallet, from his love of minimal techno to a relatable guilty pleasure for Drake.



It turns out this rhythm and flow were qualities passed from one generation to the next.



“My mom was a ballet dancer and she worked also with dance with kids… she was always dancing in the living room and doing her ballet movements there… I always loved that,” Emanuel shares. “And my father had a big record collection. So he had all these vinyls at home, a lot of like Stevie Wonder, a lot of soul music… I was discovering these records. I loved sitting there just going through them, looking at them, listening to them, reading the lyrics and all that stuff. And he was also playing the piano a little bit. I loved that as well. So it really came from my parents’ passion for music and dance.”

While the music inside his Frankfurt, Germany home consisted largely of golden era soul, ballet standards, and sporadic stints studying various instruments, Emanuel, like many adolescents of the 90s and 00s, first expanded his music pallet via radio and the burgeoning music television market. Through these external outlets, he discovered his first true passion—hip hop.



German hip hop truly captured his interest. Artists like Kool Savas not only made the genre more digestible and accessible, it made it more attainable.



“German hip hop got popular at that time as well. And so I was like, man, I think just rapping in English, I cannot do that. But all of a sudden there were guys in Germany, rapping in German, and they were quite successful. And I think, ‘let’s do that.’ I actually had a little rap career. I had my first performance when I was 13 years old in a bar,” he sheepishly remembers.



“It was a one-off show. I think I forced my classmates at that time to be in a band. I was actually writing the lyrics for the whole group. I remember that. I was writing the lyrics for everyone, the hooks and everything. I said, ‘You got to do this, you got to do that. We got this gig.’ Then I even got picked up by some older guys that were doing hip hop already, like properly recording stuff, they had a studio. And so I was hanging out with these older German wannabe gangsters, you know, and doing German gangster rap,” he laughs.



At fourteen, Emanuel received his first professional music opportunity. The group wanted the young performer to join them on tour, but Emanuel felt unready to take such an enormous leap.



“I told him… ‘I don’t want to tour, I don’t want to rap in front of people.’ And I was too shy. I was way too young… That wasn’t for me. So I quit the group and I got out of music. But…” he continues. “I remember I was extremely passionate about it. I was just always carrying this book with me writing lyrics every day and for that age I was extremely committed and super passionate about it.”



While his passion for music would find nominal expression for the next few years, an eighteen-year-old Satie would soon partake in a reinvigorating and life-changing experience—the inaugural club encounter.



“That spirit came back when I discovered dance music… And it was only when I started going out when I was 18, I was allowed in clubs and then I discovered house music… With house music, I kind of fell in love with the social aspect of it because it was such a great vibe. Everybody was in a good mood. There were no fights. There was not this macho culture or something. People were very cautious and nice to each other.”



While the omnipresent vibes of house music are enough to soften even the roughest exterior, the sonic elements that captured Emanuel’s interest were a bit deeper.



“That was really with minimal techno,” Satie fondly recalls. “When I was in this club and there was this music, I didn’t even know what it was. There were no melodies. It was super simple. And then this hi-hat would start at like two minutes in the break, in the track. And it was like this minimal change, you know? But it would give you so much more energy… That was very fascinating to me. And yeah, I have to say I really understood dance music at that point.”



Emanuel’s new passion was pure. A state champion competitive boxer at the time, Satie’s club experiences were uniquely unbiased by typical experience enhancers.



“Even when I was just a raver, I was obsessed with the music… I was going to these after hour clubs, completely sober because I was still an athlete. All my friends were hammered. Everybody was on drugs… I was the only person not even drinking, driving everybody home afterwards as well. And yeah, it was fast, but I loved the music so much that I had to be a part of this. And I stayed until 10 a.m., 11 a.m., and I’m completely sober.”



As many dance music fans know, it is a slippery slope down the rabbit hole when you find your launching point. And Emanuel was all in.



“I was already more interested in the music than most other people at parties. I was doing research which tracks are being played by whom. I was listening to sets and trying to find out all the names of the tracks that I liked and stuff. And was also going to record shops and just buying vinyl.”



Satie purchased so much vinyl that he attracted the attention of another record store goer who mistook Emanuel for a DJ. The man, named Gigo, offered to teach the ravenous young fan how to DJ, and the two began a long, fruitful relationship.



“For nine months in a row, every Saturday, we would go in his basement and I would just play for hours and hours on end, like eight hours just playing a set. All the friends were there, you know, we’re having a nice time… He also got me my first small gigs and stuff and put me under his wing… We also simultaneously… started to produce a bit. And, man, I mean, the beginnings for me were, I was a student, I was like, 19, I was broke. I didn’t have any money. So I bought like a €200 laptop at a German discount, and downloaded a cracked version of Ableton. I was just producing with the stock instruments it had. And I remember my laptop would break down every 20 to 30 minutes. It would get so hot. But I actually finished my first EP like this.”

He’s come a long way from those hours in Gigo’s basement. In the years following those weekly lessons, Emanuel Satie has continued to pour himself into his passion, exploring the nuances of life across a broad spectrum of sound. Club-filling tech house coincides with worldly organic offerings in a prolific library that includes releases on labels like Defected, Crosstown Rebels, Cocoon, Rebirth, and his collective label, Scenarios. He was named 2016’s Best Producer at the Ibiza DJ Awards and even became the Godfather of Gigo’s newborn.



Much has happened and continues for Emanuel Satie, but it is all intentional. While he may not have entered the dance music space with grand designs of being a DJ and producer, his zeal for the many facets of life and sonic experience have proven to be a steadfast North Star through the creative and the professional. Enlivened by his passions, one can’t help but be inspired as Emanuel Satie continues navigating the human journey with his mother’s flow and his father’s rhythm.

There's something wonderfully unclassifiable about Born Dirty's (aka Mika if you're friendly) music. His innovative and broad soundscapes are a musical melange ranging from the Afro-Latin "Samba Sujo" to the warped techy bass of "Crizpy" and the brightly buoyant nu-disco-tinged "Key To Me." Maybe it's his multicultural background at play. He was born in Israel to an Israeli mother and French father, his maternal grandmother is Algerian, paternal is Tunisian. Mika grew up in London and Paris, and lives in LA. Maybe it stems from the multi-genre musical roadmap he traversed in his youth, bouncing from UK rave to the goth rock of Bauhaus and East Coast golden era hip hop. Whatever it is, his singular ability to inject his music with distinctive cultural footnotes has given dance music over a decade of music that never fails to elicit incredible WTF moments that keep us dancing.

As he traces his family tree from Hungary to Sicily, the Czech Republic, and Russia, he explains that multiculturalism is a part of his DNA. He's naturally inclined to put it all in a blender while equally paying homage. He even does this when he cooks, he adds.




"In my music, if you dissect it, you might be able to hear that. My background with North Africa. Middle Eastern, for the rhythms and percussion. And then, the UK just has imprinted on me very heavily," Mika explains.




Music has always been omnipresent in Mika's life, and despite not having traditional instruments at home, his dad, who had played drums and guitar, found fun ways for the kids to make some noise.




"He would always get the pots and pans from the kitchen. We wouldn't be able to have drums, so it was just like, wooden spoons and then pots and pans. My dad's got rhythm! You can see he's a musician. He's never exploited that, because he couldn't because [of] life and choices. But I grew up in this environment where I had a dad that really was musical."

When Mika was 13, his sister's boyfriend gave him a guitar, opening a window to his raw, unfiltered talent for music. His room quickly filled with instruments and the sound of cover versions of his favorite songs. He wasn't great at school, but "I knew that I was good at music straight away. The path was super clear to me. That's all I wanted to do. I would go to bed and dream [of playing] in front of thousands of people."


In Indian religions, dharma gives an object its purpose, or as Mika explains, "The dharma is your path. It's what you're born to do. So, I know that's my dharma."




As his purpose became more evident, he was running with a group of youngsters who introduced him to underground raves and electronic music. He spent nights calling info lines from pay phones and hitting up map points that led to abandoned warehouses and distant forest clearings. He could feel his molecules rearranging to accept this new world of radically revolutionary music as he rolled up to these covert functions. And while the chase of the party was incredible, Mika always kept one foot in and one foot out.




"I was always making music, always playing instruments, always playing in bands, always singing—playing drums in one band, playing guitar in another, playing bass in another. Everyone at one point, you know, they didn't really like me, in a sense, because I was running thin. I wasn't really dedicated to anything in particular. But looking back, I've learned so much from that. When I moved to London, is really when I started to make electronic music."

Living on a meager salary, Mika devoted himself to creating. His first dance music projects were a mishmash of indie grunge vocals and hip-hop beats. He then took on the moniker Son Of Kick, a progenitor of early bass music and breaks. It was a creatively liberating time. He tells me that the music just flowed out of him. It was the first time he began to experience success, and he signed tracks to UK breaks stalwart Botchit & Scraper, SMOG, Buygore, and started his label Way Way Records.




The UK didn't embrace his music as much as US audiences did. And while he got the chance to tour in The States, he felt like it wasn't working. Crowds were more narrow-minded, and anytime he stepped out of "his lane" and maybe played something with a 4/4 beat, he got side-eyed.




"Eventually, I was like, fuck this man. I really didn't want to be in that scene anymore. Because I was like, 'This is so closed-minded.' I'm just going to start moving on, and I met Linden. And we started making music together."

Born Dirty was originally a collaborative project with Londoner Linden Jay. The music they made together was equally left of center. Their off-kilter beats made sense in a world where house music was shifting. Early heaters like "Misbehave," "Blind When I Dance," and "Daddy" carried a sound that was unique, percussive, and just a little bit dusty in the right way.



Mika always felt like he was just a bit ahead of the curve. It's something that's always been a tenant of his music. Case and point, his recent release, "So Big" on Thrive Records, is pulled chiefly from a track he wrote seven years ago.


"I just make music. I just jam and have a good time making things. I've been really shit at being on time." His way of explaining how he is ahead of the curve is wonderfully poetic and reflexive. "I don't have a good time making music that is for the purpose of being current."

Being naturally forward-thinking arises from his ability to contextualize his myriad influences. As Latin and Afro house continue to become even more everpresent, he's quick to point out that not only is this not a new phenomenon—Latin house goes back to the origins of dance music—it's also something that's forever been a part of his sonic DNA. And as he looks forward to broader musical horizons, he wants to create more diverse musical moments.




In late 2022 he posted a clip of him singing a cover of Low's "When I Go Deaf." Seeing Mika passionately belt something more indie-slanted surprised his thousands of followers. Knowing what I know now, however, it was more of a full-circle moment. The gentle glimpse into the world of his side project, Rose Ryot, was yet another signal of his immense talent, passion, and how one can make a career of peacefully driving down a musical highway with no lanes.

Growing up in the northern Italian city of Turin, Yassin Ligali Ali (also known as Yaya) is one of the brightest names in the world of minimal techno, afro house, and deep tech house. He began DJing at 17 and was soon discovered by legend Loco Dice who signed one of Yaya’s first records.




Coming up in a city rich with electronic culture would have been enough for most people to find a passion in the industry. Yaya, however, received a double dose, with his father playing a massive role in his musical upbringing.




“From my father, I learned so much about passion, rhythm, and grooves from his African heritage…My father was the lead singer of a group called M’Bamina. They were playing afro funk and afrobeat music… From when I was young, there were so many friends of my father at home, they were always around playing music, listening to vinyl. The house was always full of records and when I was super young there was just always music around me. It helped me a lot to discover an identity around music. I still have so many records from my father that inspire me today.”




When Yaya was 12, he started attending a club near his house in Turin every Monday afternoon. It was a techno/house party and love at first sight (or listen) for Yaya. Five years later, he began DJing and immediately spent summer after summer in the electronic Meca, Ibiza. The island has shaped and created many careers over the years, and Yaya’s experience was no different. There was a record store near his house and a plethora of clubs that helped him discover a breadth of music.









“I started producing music when I was 18 years old. My breakthrough was the record ‘Vecute’ in 2009. That was my first release on a bigger label. During that time period I was in Ibiza, I had a few CDs with my name and number on it, I went to Amnesia to see Loco Dice and Marco Carola. I gave Dice my music and he called me a few weeks later asking if he could release the tracks on his label. We went back and forth a bit and then eventually met up in person and began to work together. This was in 2008 and the record came out in 2009.”









Yaya returned to Ibiza for the next 14 seasons in a row. They were some of the best years of his life and it was a time he looks back upon fondly. Although he is by no means done with the island, as his profile has risen, he can no longer spend the entire season navigating the many pleasures of the island.




About seven years into his dance music journey, as his career and standing in the industry began to ascend, Yaya decided to found a label. Tamango Records isn’t just a home for his stunning dancefloor heaters. It’s a tastemaker in deep tech and minimal boasting releases from Luuk Van Dijk, Fleur Shore, Mason Collective, and Manda Moor.




“I started the label in 2016. I was wanting to start a label for a while but had to wait for the right moment. I began to collect my music, holding it back. I started to produce music just with the intention of releasing it on my label. I was also working on the team, you cannot just open a label by yourself. At the beginning the label was only vinyl but I began to release it on digital as well in order to maintain the consistent output.”









Being a label owner introduced new, unique challenges. As the lead curator for his label, he must consistently choose the right music. Although it sounds obvious, it’s not easy. He constantly receives unreleased music, and often finds himself playing out a track repeatedly, falling in love with it only to realize that just because it works in his sets, it doesn’t mean it works on his label.




Despite the personal responsibility he feels, Tamango has always been a team effort. Yaya relies on his team to help him stay true to the sound while creating unique vinyl and promo efforts. For Yaya, Tamango is about aligning with his sound, which ultimately is focused on creating happiness.









“When I play, I like to see people happy. I watch their faces and when they’re happy, I’m happy. My sound is about creating happiness.”




As Yaya has found himself living his dream life, he sometimes needs to step back and reflect on all he has accomplished.




“When you have goals and they start to come to fruition, it’s an incredible experience. I wanted to play all over the world, and I am. I wanted to start a label and I did it. This year I wanted to focus on building out events around the label. We did a tour around Tamango in South America and we are trying to continue to build off that momentum.”

For Detroit-based, Grand Rapids-born neo-American techno producer Henry Brooks, techno music exists on a vast kaleidoscopic spectrum of differing sounds and speeds.




“There are many different styles of techno that elicit different feelings and responses, make you move in different ways,” says Brooks. Although he veers toward a particularly upbeat, cacophonic style of techno, Brooks’s guiding principle is that “whether it’s banging 155 BPM industrial techno or really slow, tripped out, spacey techno, the core of all styles of techno should be pushing towards innovation and the future.”




The central focus of Brooks’s version of neo-American techno?




“Experimentation, futurism, and breaking free from the status quo.”




After receiving multiple co-signs from Charlotte de Witte and getting booked by Richie Hawtin for the North American techno patriarch’s From Our Minds tour, it’s clear that Brooks is a central artist in the evolving techno scenes across North America.




We sat down with Brooks for a conversation about his emerging style of techno, his ongoing rise in the Detroit music scene, and his current place in the broader North American techno scene.






Can you start by telling us a bit about your sound?




I predominantly play hard, fast industrial techno, schranz, and hardgroove techno, which ranges from 140 bpm to 160 bpm and is more popular in Europe and other countries.




Hard industrial techno and schranz are all about controlled distortion. You can have a track that is very distorted yet at the same time sounds very clean and polished. Rebekah, Wallis, and Endlec are a few such producers that come to mind.




In addition to the more current industrial and hard techno stuff I’ve been making, I’ve also been trying to experiment with adding guitars. I’ve been using VSTs that sound really close to the actual thing. I’ve been doing that and collaborating with metal vocalists. I’ve been trying to experiment and build on that in the realm of techno, to combine techno and metal. I really enjoy experimenting and bridging genres with those sounds.




Looking back, can you talk about the music you grew up with in Grand Rapids, Michigan?


I grew up on metalcore, post-hardcore, and hardcore music. That’s what I listened to growing up until I was 15 years old. When I was 15, I got into drum and bass, [and] commercial big room house — artists like Calvin Harris. I came across commercial EDM, got involved in that world, and kept on digging and diving.




Eventually, I came across house music. The first actual house artists were Kenny Dope, Josh Butler, Moodyman, stuff like that. I got really involved in that scene. I started coming down from Grand Rapids to Detroit when I was still in high school. After I got out of high school, I started coming down almost every weekend just to go out. That’s when I got involved in the techno scene.





How did you first become acquainted with the grand tapestry of Detroit techno?




After high school in 2015, I was already invested in the music, but I hadn’t gone down to Detroit a lot. I did some research and saw there was a big scene in Detroit, so I went down there one weekend. The first proper underground Detroit show I went to was at The Works, it was a Blank Code party. RIP to that venue! They were playing techno, and I hadn’t listened to that style of techno before. It was eye-opening. Harder, more percussive. Different than house.




After about a year, I decided that I wanted to start DJing — I felt called to do that. I had a friend who helped me out, and after I played a couple times, she was like, ‘ok, I’m going to give you a month to practice, and I’m gonna book you for one of my events.’ My first show was at the Grasshopper Underground, and that’s where I got my start. There, The Works, and Grenadier. Those are the three venues I got my start as a DJ.


Who were some of the people in the Detroit scene that drove you to become the DJ and producer you are today?



Dezi Magby [of Detroit Techno Militia] is a local. He’s seen me since the very beginning of my career as an artist, seen my whole path. From the get-go, he told me, “I know you’re gonna make it, and I can see you getting bigger and blowing up.” I really appreciated having that support at the beginning, because I was still getting into the scene and had a lot to learn and experiences to go through.




Alan Oldham, I’ve known him for a shorter period of time, but he has been a supporter of me as well. He now lives in Berlin but is a born and bred Detroit DJ. He’s a great example of a Detroit artist that’s stayed true to himself throughout his journey. Both of these guys have given me some great advice.













What about the genesis of your Detroit-based event and party series Anatomy?



I started [Anatomy] because I noticed a lack of hard techno in Detroit—the 140 [bpm] and up, really fast bangin’ industrial [techno]. I wanted to create a space for that and have more artists come through — build a community in Detroit of people who want to hear those sounds.










How did you first link up with Barbosa and other key neo-American techno artists?



With Barbosa, my friend Alley Kay from Windsor — she’s been involved in the scene in Detroit a lot, and so she actually reached out to me a few years ago and introduced me to Barbosa, who was interested in not only booking me, but doing shows in Detroit and collabing. We got linked up, and my first show I did that I played with him was in Calgary. It was a Heist Mode party, so he brought me out for that, and I closed. We kept discussing plans with events, and I’d also signed to his label in May.




So when me and Roman, [aka Barbosa], [scheduled] the party we did in November, we both picked about half the lineup representing the next generation of North American artists. We picked some important people that are pushing certain styles. We brought out Selective Response, Decoder, Jay York, Declan James, my friend Lorely Mur, and my other friend Venus, who’s a local in Detroit. So we got everyone combined and wanted to make a really pure party.
















In addition to building the North American scene alongside artists such as Barbosa and Selective Response, you’ve had huge co-signs of your own with internationally renowned artists like Charlotte de Witte and Richie Hawtin. How’d you link up with those two?



In October of 2021, Paxahau, the local promoters in the city who put on Movement — put together a Halloween party with Charlotte de Witte and Chris Liebing, and asked me to play. Of course, I took the opportunity! After that event, I got acquainted with [de Witte’s] team. A week after that show, I got an email from Charlotte’s managers asking me to come out and play their KNTXT event in Miami. So I did that in December for Art Basel weekend. It was great! From there I got more acquainted with her whole team. They also invited me out to LA for another KNTXT party last May. [De Witte’s] a really sweet human being! It’s great to see that some of the artists at the top are still genuine people.










And what about Richie Hawtin?


Barbosa is friends with Richie. Rich has been playing [Barbosa’s] music for a while. So when they started putting together the whole [From Our Minds Tour] lineup, I got a call and was asked to join and be a part of the tour. Of course, I said yes! I thought it’d be a great experience.










How do you see the sounds and scenes of American techno evolving today?

Overall, techno is growing for sure in the US, and it’s going to keep picking up. The scenes that cater to [my] style of techno are already much more established in Europe. I’ve noticed it’s been growing in the US. There’s a growing demand for harder and faster techno artists. So I’ve been seeing more and more of those artists from Europe coming over — mainly in LA, New York, and Atlanta. They’re booking a lot of people from overseas who play that style. Which is great, cause it’ll only build the scene in the US.










What closing thoughts do you have about the broader North American techno scene?


I’m hoping that it doesn’t get too big that it becomes watered-down and too commercial. Gotta find the right balance of educating and getting people involved in the scene so they can understand the roots of where things began and where it started.




Respect and an understanding of that will help keep things in a good place overall.

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