Ask anyone who’s danced to one of my sets, and they’ll tell you—genre doesn’t exist in my world. At least, not in the way we’re taught to understand it. I don’t care if it’s jazz, funk, swing, soul, disco, house, breakbeat, or techno. If it moves, I use it.
Because music isn’t about neat boxes. It’s about feeling.
Genres were invented by record labels and marketers to sell albums. But as DJs, we’ve always been rule-breakers. We take the horns from a swing track, the rhythm from a funk groove, the bass from a dubstep drop, and stitch it together until it becomes something new. Something chaotic. Something alive.
People always ask: “Is this electro swing? Nu jazz? Glitch funk?”
My answer? Yes. And also… who cares?
Cross-genre chaos is my favourite tool. It surprises people. It makes your brain do a double-take. One minute you’re nodding to a 1930s horn line, the next you’re in a warehouse rave with a deep sub rumble under your feet. That tension—that unpredictability—that’s what keeps the dancefloor lit.
And when it works, it really works.
Some of my wildest combos:
- Ella Fitzgerald meets acid house
- A gospel choir over UK garage
- Benny Goodman riding a trap beat
- A country vocal dropped into a tropical house banger
- Bollywood samples chopped into a swing-hop rhythm
Every time someone tries to figure it out and can’t, I smile. Because that means it’s working. That means it’s fresh.
I don’t want to play by the rules. I want to remix them.
So the next time someone asks what genre I play? I tell them: all of them. And if that’s chaos, then I say—bring it on.