11/05/2026
I don’t think people understand how much DJing took from me before it gave me anything back.
And I mean that in the best way.
I remember syncing two records on vinyl for the first time and feeling like I’d just unlocked something wild. Nobody was clapping. My mum didn’t care. But it was life changing for me.
I remember being in BCM Mallorca when I was 15, the first big club I ever went to, and all my friends went to bed. I stayed on my own, right by the speaker, just watching the DJ. Completely obsessed. Not networking. Not trying to be seen. Just soaking up this new feeling I’d discovered.
DJing gave me an identity before it gave me success. It gave me a reason to be at the party. A way to exist in places where I didn’t always know who I was supposed to be.
So when I wear a “Real DJing” t-shirt, it’s not me saying I’m better than anyone.
It’s a standard of what’s important.
It’s a reminder that this culture was built by people who lived it, learned the music, understood the crowd, and took risks in real time to make rooms feel something fresh and exciting.
A few years ago, everyone wanted to say big-stage DJs were fake and pre-recorded.
And tbh, certain people in the culture didn’t help.
For me, this felt personal.
You might not know what I’m doing on the decks. You don’t need to. If it works, you’ll feel it. You’ll feel the timing. You’ll feel the result of years spent loving something before it ever looked impressive.
I went ten years without owning gear like this. And even when I finally did get it, it was financed.
So if you’re in your bedroom right now, playing to no one, learning records nobody else around you understands, keep going.
You’re building the foundation for rooms you haven’t even walked into yet.
One day you’ll be playing at Space Miami, and some track you discovered alone in your bedroom will suddenly make sense in front of thousands of people.
That’s real DJing to me.
