The Dance Floor Professional

From the club to the recording booth, DJ Shannon seeks and shares what moves people.

Feature & Photography - Sacha Madadian     Art - Alfredo

The opening of Shannon Dawson's bio reads, “DJ Shannon is a dance floor professional.” Full disclosure: I wrote that. I was honored that Shannon asked me to craft her DJ bio after she played Social Studies in December 2022. The party was an emotional one for the group—it was our last at Good Life, the soon-to-shutter club that hosted Social Studies for 11 years—but Shannon’s performance gave us the closure we needed, the validation that a good thing had happened here. Put together in a smart, sharply fitted blazer with a coordinating richly colored pashmina scarf, Shannon was the boss of that room, executing this flawless, building, upbeat club set that folks who hadn’t previously heard of the New York DJ still talk about. At the time I wasn’t sure how she, without prompting, immediately read the complexities of that club—the challenge of captivating the underground in its basement, while also drawing down those from the open format room above us. How she played a set so fun, with such intense and unwavering focus. From first email to her room-rousing set-closing salvo that was overwhelmed by cheers and applause, Shannon was indeed a professional at this. It made so much sense the more I learned about Shannon’s journey. And with that line in her bio, I was trying to get at (Hey, promoters. . .) just how serious a booking Shannon is—one of the most pleasant, thoughtful, mature DJs I’ve come across. But, more importantly, I wanted to, concisely and with a bit of deserved drama, convey that the dance floor is literally and figuratively Shannon’s livelihood. Shannon builds dance floors; she’s started parties here and in China, where she lived for five years, even opened a club abroad. She shares the dance floor, using radio to open conversations about club culture. And she is a really good, dance floor–shaking DJ. Shannon lives for the funk, she dies for the funk. And she takes the funk very seriously.

Every day Shannon wakes around 5 a.m. to go to the gym—the ritual of strength training provides clarity for a busy day as much as it does physical might. She works her 9-to-5 from home, writing about entertainment—sometimes it’s music (obviously her preference), sometimes reality TV (very much not her preference) but, nonetheless, putting the pen during the day to a sphere she occupies at night is a well-earned gift. Funny enough, hours after we spoke, Shannon’s editor assigned a piece for the 25th anniversary of The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill, a reminder of that gift. When I met up with Shannon on a Sunday afternoon at the end of August, she’d already tackled more than most in New York City nightlife could dream of doing in a whole weekend—gym, lunch with her parents, giving this interview, and she left me in the evening with plans to do her laundry and sketch out her work to-do for the next week.

Our setting, the Harlem Meer, a greenery-surrounded man-made lake in the northeastern part of Central Parkwas a dreamy, albeit scorching hot, reprieve from all that. Shannon, born and raised in Spanish Harlem, has escaped to the Meer her whole life and still does regularly for breathing room. Serene, with weeping leafy branches parting to sun-sparkled water, the enclave is vibrant with folks doing the same, and our recording was soundtracked by birds, children, and live music. But Shannon isn’t quite a Harlem lifer. She experienced a new city when she went to college in Chicago; she worked in radio in Michigan; and she lived in sprawling Chongqing, China before she moved back to Harlem in 2019, so many measurable and experiential miles logged. The journey crystallized the importance of community around music—she’d found one over and over again in vastly different contexts. It also informed the nature of the community she seeks to forge around dance floors today, one that’s inclusive, inquisitive, enthusiastic.

Creating Dance Floors

DJ Shannon is an entrepreneur! Can you tell me a little bit about what it was like opening a club?

So another buddy of ours that wasn’t really on the music side but was on the business side of things, Nick, his family was from Chongqing, so we had a lot of his help establishing the business, getting all the paperwork in order. He was the one who pretty much came to us and said, “Hey, I see what you have here. Why don’t we try to open up a space and make this a thing every day?” So we eventually put all our money together and found a spot literally two doors down from Echo Bay—which, I don’t think Bram was very happy about, looking back on it. A lot of the traffic from Echo Bay was coming over to Soundcheck. 

An initial challenge—on the opening day, we didn’t have a ton of chairs, and I think the power went out at one point, so we had to deal with that, but after that it was pretty cool. And I think we had GO$H. GO$H are really great rappers in the scene in Chongqing, and they were on The Rap of China, so we had them for the opening night and they brought a lot of people. We had some local crews. That gave us our leg up throughout the year and a half we were open. Yeah, we had a lot of really great people that we invited. Have you ever heard of IC3peak?

No, I don’t think so.

They’re from Russia. They do a cross between electronic music and hip-hop. KEY! we’ve had from Atlanta. 

My primary focus with the club was day-to-day DJ stuff, but Nick and Patrick took care of a lot of the booking end of things. But I think where we really, not necessarily failed, but—we didn’t have much help with promoting. We were doing well our first year and then things kind of tapered off. We didn’t have the infrastructure to get the word out—the language barrier as well. We were open for over a year and then we had to close unfortunately.

It seems like for however long it lasted it was a really cool place. Those bookings sound amazing. 

Yeah, yeah, totally, and through that again it was another [opportunity] to just meet people who loved music, and that’s how I met a lot of people who would book me throughout China. We invite them; we come out there to play at their space. And it just became a way to expand our love for music throughout different parts of China.

OK, you’re in China, you learn how to DJ, you open a hip-hop-centric club. Being a Black woman from the birth city of hip-hop, was there a cultural shock to learning through hip-hop and doing things in the space in China?

We actually opened around the same time that The Rap of China came out—The Rap of China was kind of like an American Idol for China. Hip-hop was kind of taking off because of groups like GO$H. And I think we came in at the right time. We were kind of piggybacking off this trap scene that was emerging in China around that time. Which was cool—I felt like I fit in that sense. I love trap music and they love trap music, so it worked. But what I think sometimes was missing is—people didn’t understand the history behind hip-hop out there because you don’t have access to certain things because of The Great Firewall and whatnot. So everyone was dressing the part—they had dreadlocks, they had the baggy clothes—but they didn’t understand where it came from. They didn’t know the pioneers, and so we were actually trying to, before we closed, think of some ways we could introduce the history of hip-hop to people. But I was like, how can we do this? We don’t speak the language. I was like, how cool would it have been to do a history night where people could watch documentaries about hip-hop culture? I had so many ideas, but—

I’m sure your presence helped in some sense. It’s interesting that there are huge streetwear cultures in Asia—I wonder how that happens.

Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. I think it was interesting because it almost formed a bond with folks in the community that I couldn’t really communicate with, but I just wanted to go so much deeper with it. Have you listened to Biggie? Do you listen to, you know, The Sugarhill Gang? But the language barrier was very difficult.

What do you think grabbed folks? You say they really love trap. Is it that 808? Is it certain themes? What was really drawing people to hip-hop there?

I think it was the music and the energy. They have some great stage performers out there—especially that GO$H crew. They just have a lot of great energy out there and the youth just feed off that, you know? They would pack out a whole bunch of venues, and bring a lot of younger kids who would always come to their shows. So, I think it was just the energy, and feeling like you were part of this big community. Also there was a sense of rebellion because things are a bit stifled in terms of how you can act in public. So hip-hop there is like a big “fuck you” to the system. 

Well, there’s one similarity.

Sharing Dance Floors

Parties don’t happen in a vacuum, they’re not just a night of fun. The types of parties you go to, in the region you live, with the people you share the dance floor, determine what music you’re exposed to, how you build community, and even how you view humanity. Shannon is fascinated by those stories and at the forefront of sharing them. Around the time she opened CREAM, she started her podcast Club Management. “I was like, there are so many dope people who are walking through those doors, I cannot let these things go, or at least have a recording of it.” Her pathfinding trip was achieving her mission, and she began aligning her now active work in the DJ space with a background in radio. 

Shannon went to Columbia College in Chicago, switching her major from theater to radio in her sophomore year. She cherishes the program and experience, and she landed her first job out of school at Michigan hip-hop station Power 96.5. “I was doing overnights from 2 a.m. to 6 a.m. and working at Longhorn Steakhouse from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. It was the worst! But through all of that I learned how to tell a story and how to write, and I eventually used those skills to do Club Management.”

“That’s what radio is about. It’s about sharing the music. It’s about sharing the stories behind it. And that’s what really gets me every month when I’m on [The Lot Radio].
I feel like it’s a place for me to nerd out with folks who might be listening about music.”

The radio also extends to The Lot as well, of course. Your strength is that it’s not just music, there’s also commentary. What I love about your show is that you are NOT a gatekeeper at all. 

[Laughs] No!

Not all DJs are jumping to share what they’ve played all the time. I’ve definitely downloaded some great stuff after your shows. How does sharing music in that way bring you joy?

I just feel like if it’s there and people can go on Bandcamp and buy it, just let them! And that’s what radio is about. It’s about sharing the music. It’s about sharing the stories behind it. And that’s what really gets me every month when I’m on there. I feel like it’s a place for me to nerd out with folks who might be listening about music. I don’t get to nerd out with people about music as often as I should be. 

Why do you think that is?

That’s a great question. I don’t know. I think especially with everybody in the scene here, they’re busy. Many people that are in the scene, this is their full-time job, right? Or they’re plugged in to their 9-to-5. So you don’t get a chance to sit down and chat with folks over coffee often. 

Maybe that’s a thing I could start in the city. A place where people can come together and nerd out over music.

Well you’ve been taking some vinyl lessons—record store culture is a place for that. It feels like maybe 10 years ago there was more of a place for that; now folks are a little more closed off at shops. 

Yeah, exactly.

You go into A1 and you just want to avoid bothering anyone because it’s so tight and busy. But I’m thinking the Fat Beats–era New York—so many people met each other, collaborated. Turntable Lab sadly isn’t a brick and mortar anymore. I guess those meeting spaces go away, so, add it to the list of things you need to do!

I have more on my plate [laughs]! But, yeah, The Lot Radio is so great—shout-out to them. We just won an award not too long ago for DJ Mag. It’s really been this place to form community with like-minded folks and, you know, a way for me to show off all the things that I listen to. Sometimes it’s funny because I’m like, “Am I playing too many different things? Is there a rule to DJing?” I mean, I would say not [laughs]. But I think about that often. I’m like, wow, I’m playing a lot of different things on the show. I mean DJs obviously specialize in their things that folks can play like strictly electronic, strictly house, but, for me, DJing has always been a way to connect the dots, right? To connect the dots between genres, eras, different sounds, beat patterns, and that’s what I love so much about being at The Lot. 

Do you feel like you pay it forward with new DJs, whether it be through radio or your podcast? 

My Lot Radio show has for sure been a space to showcase new talent and just give folks a platform to also geek out about music. But now I’m going to be doing a party at Jupiter Disco! We did our first one earlier in the year. It’s called Club Works. It’s kind of my way to introduce the city to all kinds of music, club music, electronic music—you name it, you’re going to hear it at this party. And the first one we had was with Natalia, E5piral and Niyah West. And it was perfect. I brought a little club, Natalia brought Reggaeton, Niyah brought house music, and it was really about forging all of our passions and genres together and creating this beautiful night. The next one—we’re going to have Madre Guía who was also on the Lot Radio show. And we’re going to have THEYTEE. Tee just moved back from California. 

What night is it? Will it always be the same night?

The last two were on a Thursday, but I just got an email from the booker saying, “Hey, you’re a really dope DJ, and I know that you probably want to bring some great DJs in, so why don’t we move this to Friday and I’ll have more of a budget to play with.” I’m excited for that. 

My goal is to really pay it forward with this Jupiter Disco party. But I was also thinking about starting some sort of DJ camp for kids. I love that. I was doing that a little bit in China—

How old were the kids?

They were 11 and 12.

That’s amazing. They must have had so much fun. 

They loved it! They really liked learning about the history behind some of the genres so, I did a whole hip-hop class—we learned how to beatmatch and practice with hip-hop. And then I did a whole history course and before the pandemic hit, we were learning about electronic music and how to mix that. They were thinking about turning it into like an elective, but, eh, the pandemic had to mess it all up.

Moving Dance Floors

In the span of just five years, Shannon learned to DJ hip-hop on open decks and then was touring China, playing trap to underground dance, and opening a club. Unfortunately, thanks to the emergence of the COVID-19 pandemic, Shannon didn’t have a real chance to take those skills on the town when she returned to New York. Like many DJs, Shannon turned to Twitch and her streams really gained traction, with fans and with established DJs like JADALAREIGN and DJ Elise. I’d guess she caught their attention for the same reasons she blows me away: the layering, the phrasing, the handwork, the knowledge, the energy, the bass! Shannon’s a technical master behind the decks, weaving club, breakbeat, ghetto house, classic house, techno, electro, hip-hop into a tight set.

That’s such a good story! 

It’s not like you just play a lot of things, you have a deep enough knowledge in all of them for that to be successful. To map things out: From New York, you went to college in Chicago (they would argue it’s the birthplace of house music; some New Yorkers might not. . .), you go to China. Are there any geographic considerations that factor into your musical interests, or is it more your voracious curiosity and listening to your dad’s stuff?

I think it’s a little bit of both, right? Listening to dad’s stuff and then just kind of traveling on my own and hearing different sounds from different cities. I think over the years I’ve been pulling, maybe subconsciously, everything that I’ve heard and feeding them into my own DJ sets. 

I spent a lot of my mid to late teens sneaking into clubs because me and my older sister look alike, so I could use her ID. One of my favorite spots was Avalon in Midtown. It used to be The Limelight, which was home to some legendary disco, house, and techno parties in the mid to late ‘80s and ‘90s. Every time you’d go the music would be different. They’d switch off between house, hip-hop, electronic music—but those years definitely sharpened my passion for music. 

I accepted a summer internship at this place called Brooklyn Bodega around 2008. It was this rundown storefront near Kosciuszko Street that this guy transformed into a venue. I used to help with the door and monitoring the dance floor. But I remember being so enamored with all of the live bands, DJs, and the community that formed at that place.

Chicago was HUGE in my DJ journey—not only because of school but the amazing people I was able to meet in the music scene there. And I forgot—they did an intro to DJing course. So I was learning some of the basics. And one of the assignments was to go out and experience some nightlife culture. So one of the first places I went out to party was a spot called Evil Olive off of Division Street. And that space was really dope—kind of more EDM, pop-mainstream kind of feel. But where I really got the sense of good pure house music was a venue called Danny’s in Wicker Park. Just packed every Friday, every Saturday, line around the freaking block. All amazing house DJs. It was kind of like Jupiter Disco in a sense that—really great sound system, big enough where you could have a good time on the dance floor but also had these nooks and crannies where you could go off and talk and have some personal time. So I really loved that place. There was also a great place called Bonnie’s [laughs]. And I laugh because the music was great but it smelled terrible! I think they had a problem with the septic system or something because it always smelled like crap, but the DJs were great! And there they played everything—electronic music, house, you name it. At the time I was thinking—if I could work with these places—when I look back, this has always been in the background. I just needed someone to pull it out of me. 

Does dad ever come out?

Yeah, dad saw me at Public Records for the Juneteenth party last year, which was really good. He was a guest on the Lot Radio too, for Father’s Day. He really geeked out about it. When he visited last, he actually gifted me his entire vinyl collection. So now I have all these records in my collection. I bought myself a record player earlier this year.

As far as your skills go—you’re known for your uniquely superior skills on the CDJs. Your handwork. I forget what context it was in, maybe it was on the radio, but you were like, “I don’t even realize it because it’s so second nature at this point.” But I do think people are amazed, especially the first time they see you. Could you tell me a little bit how a hip-hop background might influence your dance music performances?

I think it’s all about the quick cuts and transitions. In hip-hop music you don’t always have a lot of room to transition from one point to the other, so you have to get really creative, you gotta do it fast. And that’s pretty much what I learned my five years in China, just, how do I get in and out of a record that might not allow me a lot of a transition, you know, before that vocal comes or so you’re not clashing keys on top of one another. I think that’s hip-hop by nature. When I started incorporating more dance music, I guess it just became second nature, you know?

It seems to be a secret weapon of yours.

I look back at some of the recordings, and I’m like, “Oh, shit, I did that?” I don’t see it sometimes, because I’m just so excited about the music that I’m playing or just to be up there and interacting with people. But to look back and watch, I’m like, “I did that. That’s pretty cool!”

What’s it like when you’re performing? Are you hyperfocused, or does it feel like it just runs through you? 

It’s a mixture of excitement, nerves still, especially if I’m in a new place and I’m still figuring things out in terms of the crowd, the sound system. And I think my defense mechanism to battle the nerves is getting focused. I don’t drink before I perform. I don’t do any drugs or anything. Because I look at DJing like operating a car, right? You gotta be completely sober, just in case things go left, you can hit your emergency breaks. I found myself—it’s funny, I was reading the interview Dweller not so long ago did with Jeff Mills. And it talks about—you become so one with the dance floor that at some point you become invisible and it’s just people out there dancing, and they don’t even notice that you’re behind there.

That’s the goal. 

And I had that moment recently at Bossa Nova Civic Club. It was my first time playing and people were out there just moshing. I think I was playing a whole bunch of Jersey club at this block of time. And I found myself just so at peace, no nerves, finally got all the jitters out, and I was like, “Oh, my god. People like this, I like this too.” We just kind of became one, having a nice old house party in there. And those people at Bossa Nova—if you go there at 3 a.m. on a Friday, they just want to go off! Holy crap! It’s a different thing to be the one behind there in that moment, to be the one steering the ship as opposed to being on the dance floor. That was a really dope moment.

I’ve asked a couple people this question before—if they feel like DJing is a performance—because there was a time when maybe the culture was more about being one with the dance floor. DJs were behind curtains sometimes and, while idolized, not the focal point. Now the tendency is to look up at the DJ. What do you feel about that?

I honestly love it. It’s funny, during the Bossa Nova party there were times when I would cut the music off and sing, and people would sing along with me. I love a good club sing-along moment. I strive to have at least one. I think it just creates a bigger bond between you and the dance floor. Obviously I don’t want people clambering all over me and saying “Ahhh DJ Shannon,” but I do want to build some point of connection with people while they’re there, you know? I want people to hear the music and feel just as stoked about it as I am. 

I get a sense that you’re extremely thorough with your preparation. For one, you always have new music—and are playing it perfectly. I’m wondering what you think about preparation versus spontaneity, the line between them, and how you might play with that when you’re DJing. 

Oh, heck yeah. It’s a combination of both. I think you have to have a level of preparation, and also keep some room for creativity. Because if you’re just playing by a playlist that you’ve made, it takes away from the excitement. I like to plan my first five songs and then just play everything else on a whim. I think it keeps me on my toes, and it adds a level of excitement, that I really have to be focused because I don’t know what I’m going to play next. It also forces me to really know my Rekordbox and my collection. So, I’m trying to do that now, where I want to understand where everything is, but build my collection so that I don’t have to necessarily prep so much but so that I know this is in this folder, this is here, and this goes well together. It’s a balance between the two. 

In situations like Dweller and Boiler Room—do you treat some of these “high profile,” events differently than a regular club night?

I find myself intensely prepping for everything [laughs]. I don’t know if that’s a bad thing, but I want to make sure that I’m proud of my sets at the end of the day. As much as I love folks and what they think of my sets, at the end of the day it’s for me. Did I do a good job? Did I bring professionalism to these events? The preparation is kind of a me thing—I want to make sure that I’m playing well and that I’m playing up to the standard that I want to. 

“I think my defense mechanism to battle the nerves is getting focused. I don’t drink before I perform. I don’t do any drugs or anything. Because I look at DJing like operating a car, right? You gotta be completely sober, just in case things go left, you can hit your emergency breaks.”

Since I just mentioned them, we should talk about them! I know Boiler Room is in more recent memory, but we were very excited to see you on the Dweller lineup this past February. Can you tell me a little bit about how that went and what it meant to you?

Oh, it meant the world to me. Especially having interviewed Frankie, having been a dancer on the floor for Dweller. It was such a full-circle moment when I got that email from JADA. And I think it just really came from me being open about exploring where I stand in the music scene here, and what I have to contribute. I know the folks at Nowadays had been listening to Club Management, obviously The Lot Radio as well. And I had played a bunch of shows that the Dweller team had known about, so I think it just happened organically. And so, yeah, when I got that email, I was like this is perfect.

And I went in for that one—months of intense preparation, months of digging—so that when I showed up for my spot, I think it was 5 a.m. to 9 a.m., I felt completely at home. I knew how I was going to play, I knew how I was going to steer things. It was just so beautiful, especially as the sun came up—you could see it coming up behind me, and it was just so sick. Literally, I think it will go down as one of my best performances. Every now and then I’ll get a message from folks on Instagram—”We love that Regina Spektor edit that you played!” That Regina Spektor edit went off.

And Boiler Room. I wish it was streamed, but we got to listen to your set. A playful one. It sounds like it’s part of the reason you’re getting so busy!

Very much so. I think that and Dweller opened up the floodgates. Crazy. So they had me, Planet B, Lovie, and Devoye in the small side room [of the Knockdown Center]; I think it’s called the Texas Stage. It got filled up quickly, to the point where you really had to push past people to get to the front, and I remember like 5 minutes into my set, there were so many people in there that I was drenched in sweat. I think at one point, my hand was so sweaty that I missed a transition, and it got kind of fucked up—I was like, “Eh, that’s OK, people are still kind of digging it.” So much energy in the room, so many people. I don’t know if it’s just because it was Boiler Room or if people loved the music, but it was just chaotic! 

Well, now you can check that box off—your first Boiler Room!

Yeah! I was like, how’d you guys find me?!

It was great. I really enjoyed that. I think for that one I really wanted to showcase some house music, some dance music, my normal Jersey club in there, and it went beautifully. 

That’s great. And you’re now part of a collective. How did that come to be and what opportunities do you think that will lend to you?

Yes, the XOXA family! And they’re actually one of the first to book me when I came back to New York in 2019. I think they had found me from some Lot Radio mixes, my own Soundcloud, and we built a connection from just doing parties with each other. They’ve just been so beautiful in helping me to navigate things in the scene, introducing me to different venues. Right now we’re working on doing a Euro tour, so they’ve been really instrumental in that as well—so, everything! I think they’re just helping me expand my horizons DJ-wise, which I never really thought about until I joined the collective. I mean, I was touring a little bit in China, but I never thought about touring as a full-time DJ. It seems like that might be where things are leadling, but we’ll see.

That’s exciting! When you’re playing an XOXA event—is there anything special that goes into coordinating with and offsetting each other?

That’s a great question. I literally just did a B2B with Honey B, who is another member of the collective. We actually found that we have a very similar style and a similar approach. But I just think it’s fresh energy, being part of a collective, where now, yeah, I can chat with folks about different music, and feel like you’re a part of something. I feel like that’s kind of what I was missing before I found this collective. 

I was obviously contributing whenever I was booked and contributing with Club Management to a certain extent. But being a part of this collective makes me feel like I’m actually more part of the community now.

Do you have any dream collaborations, or DJs you haven’t played with?

I love DJ Pierre so much, obviously a part of that Chicago legacy, and Godfather of Acid House—I tried to message him actually to do an episode of Club Management, so if I land an interview and get to play with him someday, that would be so dope. I’ve got to think about this. There are so many DJs that I love. If I could do a party with Kourtney, Rose Kourts—Kourtney would be really cool. Her energy is just so sick. I think BAMBII and me have a similar DJ style technique wise. I would love to share the decks. 

I’m actually going to play with Spiñorita, which I’m really excited about. That’s somebody I really wanted to play with. I had reached out to her and said, “Hey, I really want to come out to LA. Is there any room for me to play?”—because she does a party at The Ace Hotel. And she was like, “What?! I’ve been meaning to ask you!” So it worked out so perfectly. 

You play in a way that you can excel above- and underground. Do you see yourself playing in both of those spaces? You have. Or do you think of yourself as firmly an underground DJ now? How might you proceed?

That’s a great question. I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure out where I fit in. Because I do think I can do both. I’m an underground girlie at heart for sure [laughs]; give me a dark, dingy club any day over a big-ass stage. But I do want to experience both. I’m interested in like playing big festivals as well—just to have it under my belt and have it as an experience on my DJ résumé. So we’ll just see.

DJs have had eras in each. It’s totally possible! And things happen organically for you so we’ll see, but what festival is on your mind??

Oh, my god. It would be cool to do We Out Here. Or, gosh, there’s so many. Parklife. What else—

Is there one you’ve been to that’s impacted you? 

That’s a good question. Lollapalooza! [Laughs.] This is gonna sound so cheesy. I forget what year this was, but I think deadmau5 was playing. I was a real big deadmau5 [fan]. I’m kind of embarrassed to admit it now—deadmau5 made good music, though! I forget what song he played—and the rain just came pouring down as soon as he was playing it, and, I mean, there was mud everywhere. People are moshing around. I’m covered head to toe to the point where my phone got covered and stopped working. I’m drunk at this point [laughs]. Lollapalooza has always been a fun time. 

In Chongqing, Bram would throw a techno festival called INSTINCT every year. That thing was insane. My favorite one was the festival he did in the woods. The DJs were playing on all of these amazing stages situated along this lush greenery. I played in a tiny-ass cabin that year but it got so packed in there. It felt like one giant rave in the woods.

Shannon and I finished the day with a walk through the Meer and it dawned on me that I hadn’t been to Central Park in years. Shannon has gone to China and back but she often craves a home with less bustle. I was a little surprised to hear that from a city dweller who comes alive at the club. I guess if your passion and profession are bringing people together around music, you need a sliver of quiet to reflect and refuel. For now, the Meer, here when Shannon was pathless and here now that opportunities are boundless, will do. Because every boss needs a break.