Every remix I make starts in the same place: a memory.
A song you heard in your dad’s car. A chorus that played at your first school disco. A line that hits you in the chest because you don’t just remember it—you feel it.
That’s the power of musical nostalgia. And I’m addicted to it.
But I don’t want to leave those memories frozen in the past. I want to bring them back with a twist. A new sound. A new drop. A new way to feel what you already know.
That’s the remix cycle:
Rewind – Dig up the tune.
Remix – Give it a heartbeat.
Repeat – Play it like it’s brand new.
Some songs were meant to come back. They’re too good to be forgotten. Others just needed the right context—the right bassline, the right build, the right reverb.
And when they land? It’s electric. The look on someone’s face when they realise the track is both new and familiar. The goosebumps. The sing-alongs. The full-body memories.
Remixing nostalgia isn’t about living in the past. It’s about carrying it forward. Making it dance again.
So if you’ve ever lost your mind to a remix that felt like déjà vu with a drop—you’re not alone.
That’s me too.
Rewinding. Remixing. Repeating.
And loving every second of it.