SPINNIN’
WITH
JUNO

WHO ARE YOU?

My name is Juno. I'm a DJ and producer from Jamaica, Queens.


HOW DID YOU GET INTO TECHNO

C: I know you lived in Germany, and that's how you got into DJing and techno. Can you just explain your journey through the music and how you got into it?

So I say it didn't start in Germany, but Germany helped forward it because it's so prominent over there. It helped boost it because it's so widespread there, but it started a bit younger when my dad introduced me to house and jazz music and collecting records as a whole. So 2015, 2016. 2016 was a big year for music, and every album came out. I remember listening to Endless, and that kick-started my love and interest in the electronic side of music rather than, I guess, the typical rap music or R&B or any other popular genres like pop music. So, over time, it's evolved. Being a military kid, I've traveled all around, so I've heard plenty of different genres, different types of music, and different ways of making music. And then, right after we left Germany, I asked my parents for a mixer, like a little Hercules D DJ mixer, and they got me one. And at the same time, I had a cracked version of FL Studio. And then over time, just like I developed my taste, developed my interest, like what I like, and learned more about the history of it. Recently, I've started playing vinyl records, and that's been a whole journey within itself.


WHY TECHNO?

C: You mentioned that you lean more into techno and like electronic music rather than hip-hop or any other of that genre. Why is that exactly?

Compared to just pop or hip hop, it's a lot more formulaic, which I know many people don't like. They're like, "Oh, like it sounds the same. It's repetitive." But that's the aspect that I like about it because you can move to it. You don't have to remember any lyrics. It's truly, in my opinion, like a feeling-based genre. I'm not classically trained at all. I'm not the best writer, but I can look at a grid and put dots and marks in certain places to make it sound good or alter a sample by pitching it up or down, adding an LFO, or adding effects. It's a genre I feel you can truly experiment with as much as you want.



PARENTS APPROVAL?

C: How do they feel about you pursuing music and a DJ? Because I know most military families are very strict

They're strict in that they don't want me to fail. So what they kind of said was, "Hey, you know, we don't know what you're doing with this, but it's keeping you out of trouble, and it's giving you something you do, and you're passionate about it, so we're going to support you no matter what." So, when I asked for the mixer, they didn't second guess it. They bought me a pair of headphones because they didn't want me playing it out loud, but they still are insanely supportive, despite what most people think. Like, "Oh, they want you to be a doctor, a mechanic, something that pays well." But they know that, along with me wanting to do something professional for my main thing, music has been an outlet for me.

E: You didn't mention this as part of the interview, so we can avoid it if you want. But you know, being from Carolina, right?

I'm from New York, but I lived there for a while. I'm originally from Queens.

E: Wait, were you born in Queens?

Yeah.

E: Do you want to talk a little bit about it?  I mean, I remember you telling me living in North Carolina was a major point in your life.

Yeah. So, after being born in New York and then moving all over, before coming back up to New York, I was in North Carolina for a little bit, specifically Boone, in the Appalachian Mountains. And what a lot of people probably think is like, oh, like, there's nothing to do up there, it's just a bunch of white people. But truly, those were some of the best people I've ever met who helped me forward my career as a DJ or a musician. While there, I was part of a local community radio station called Boone Area Community Radio. And the people behind it also ran the record shop. Those two places were in conjunction with each other, and being right around the corner from my dorm, I'd always hang out there. I talked to the owners, Ellis and Travis; they gave me a platform to DJ more often, they showed me new music, and they taught me one of the first vinyl sets I played on the backer, so if it wasn't for them, as well, like I wouldn't have gotten the confidence to move up, move back up here to kind of continue pursuing my DJ career, or like a career as a musician.

E: And now that you've picked up experience DJing in both places, what would you say is the biggest difference?

The biggest difference is, I guess, the scene. Boone is Boone, and App State is a PWI. There was a queer community there. And they were super supportive. But what I do like about Boone, compared to New York, is how few people there were because you could form more of an actual community, and people were there for each other. If we liked the rec store, 641, the only rec store there, we all flocked. We all supported backers compared to here, where there are so many subgroups of people that you have difficulty finding your crowd. Like down there, I easily found my crowd because we had a third space we could all go to.

E: And then would you say that sense of disconnection and not finding, I guess, the right crowd of people out here has affected you at least mentally and your drive to create?

It has affected me mentally. Because of multiple factors, it's like finding people with tastes similar to my age because many of my closest friends are 26 and above, but we just click so well. But among my age group, I have difficulty connecting with them in the sense of music. Because I feel like a lot of the younger generation is chasing fame, they're chasing fame, and they're chasing wanting, you know, to open up to some big artists who like to travel the world. And many of the older folks are like, hey, you know, I'm gonna stay here. I'm gonna build roots and, like, I'm gonna help out the people around me. It's kind of like he says that. Yeah, like having, you know, chase the bag, follow your dreams, be rich, be famous, go on tour, do all that.

But after talking with one of the club owners here, he brought up the fact that after the New York scene, which used to exist back in the 90s and 80s, it kind of died out due to the cabaret laws, which was fair, because those laws completely ended clubbing as a whole in New York. So there was no one to carry on the scene after people like Adam X, Frankie Knuckles, and Joey Beltram. Like the people behind the Liquid Sky, we had no one else to truly be. We didn't have anyone else to carry the torch here. So, you know, when clubbing came back up to New York, there were so many different subgroups and subsections. Even now, I know some people who exclusively go to one club or, you know, stay within their people and don't kind of branch out into the whole of electronic music.



TAKING TENCHO BACK?

C: But as many people know, most music, most anything, comes from black culture, specifically African-American culture. And that's the same with techno. Do you ever feel a sense of the reason you perform techno? When I hear techno, I think of German and white people, but the roots are from Detroit. Do you ever feel like you need to reclaim that? Is that why you push so hard for techno as well?

It is why I'm so vocal about it on my Instagram. I often talk about the roots of not only Detroit techno but also New York techno or the sound as a whole. And, with the skyrocketing of DJing and techno in recent years, Germany pushed forward that sound over there. It's a cultural instance. Those clubs are cultural institutions. But in proxy to over here in the U.S., you know, Paradise Gavage, one of the most prominent clubs in New York, got shut down, and that building's demolished despite it being such an icon in queer history. It just wasn't supported along with the Cabaret laws. Because ending dancing was pretty much tied with anti-blackness because the clubs and the sound was like a safe space for black people. So the fact that over here it was just kind of torn down, like dismantled while over there was heavily supported by the government makes me want to like, in a sense, as you said, like reclaim it. Because it's something that we started and that we should not have ownership of, but we should be pushing just as hard as they are.

Along with like, it just sounds better. Like those guys, Mad Mike and the whole underground resistance team, they were cooking up in their grandma's basement and made some of the best music you've ever heard. And they made it just on, at the time, shitty equipment. A TD-303 was like a piece of shit. It was used to back up piano players, but they turned it into a synthesizer that created genres like acid house and intricate bass lines. So the fact that they did that and don't truly get the credit they deserve compared to European countries is a shame. And that's why I do like that we are bringing it back nowadays. The most notable group of people pushing for that now is this event called Dweller, or this organization called Dweller, which has been putting on black electronic events every year for the past four years. They did one last year. Hey, I did one this year that was all around New York. They did one last year in Berlin. And even throughout the year, they're just like pushing events, they're pushing artists, they're pushing the sound, they're pushing the culture as a whole.



IMPORTANCE OF GOOD EQUIPMENT?

E: I want to touch on something you mentioned earlier about how, what was his name, Mad Mike? As you said, some of these artists are creating the best music in their parents' basements without the greatest equipment. For you, do you stress the importance of having good equipment when you are creating your work?

I recently sold my Octatrack after having it for six months. Before that, I was just using Ableton. But now I'm back on Ableton. And truly, you can create using whatever you have available. You've got to make do with what you have, whether it's something cheap or something expensive. As long as you can make it work, you can make it work. For example, if you have a MacBook and can't afford Ableton, you can crack it. Not promoting torrenting or cracking.

E: We've promoted it a bunch of times. I love pirates. Pirate it all, do everything.

Do what you must to get by and do what you want. That's not harming other people.


MUSIC AND ACTIVISM?

E: In the past you have spoken about the genre as a form of activism. Can you elaborate a little about that?

I'm not going to speak on, I guess, the scene now because speaking on the scene as a whole has kind of been detrimental to my health, and it's not something I can change. I can't change the minds of a hundred people. But I can put forward resources talking about where the sound came from, which was obviously from Robert Hood. Still, in the sense of resistance and rebellion, I can put towards underground resistance and Matt Mike and Jeff Mills, wherein a great book, Assembling Black Counterculture, there's a quote from him saying that his parents, like looking up to the Black Panthers and Martin Luther King and all these like revolutionary black figures helped like drive him to make this music that helped drive... That helped drive him to make this music that was, I guess, anti-establishment.

E: I had this conversation recently with Colin, & he spoke about how he wishes that the Vietnamese artistic experience was more than just war stories. Do you ever feel like creating music with the  intent of it being so intertwined with revolution could be daunting?

Definitely, okay, it's daunting only in movie forms. I'm not a fan of black struggle films. Yeah. Or there's a more specific name for it. But that music was turned into a... the music is revolutionary in sound and like themes. So, like for many underground resistance songs, there's Message to the Majors. I'm blanking on many names, but there's Riot. Many of their songs, themes, and concepts are revolutionary in imagery and sound but revolutionary in how they want to fight against them. It's not like, "Oh, like, you know, we're struggling, we're oppressed, we're poor." It's like, "We have the power to come together and fight against our oppressors." And in this way, it's like, "We have the power to take over these clubs and make this like a space for us." So it's... as like they said, it's a sonic assault. It's not like, you know, "Oh, like, we're gonna talk about like slavery and all that." It's like, "Hey, like, we're gonna fight against these niggas."


(Showcasing some of Juno’s favorite records.)

PUBLIC PERCEPTION OF DJs

C: So there's a major problem within the young crowd regarding the public perception of DJs. So talk about that. How has it affected you?

I would not say it's a problem. It's good that DJing has become more accessible. Recently, at Wired Festival hosted at Knockdown Center, they published this super clickbaity article that said, "Oh, are you a real DJ if you don't play vinyl?" And everyone acknowledged that it was clickbait. But with that question comes the idea that vinyl DJing is expensive. Technics are expensive. Buying records is expensive. But having a DDJ, which is 250 flat, and then Rekordbox, which you could crack or just download for free, and then using some free... the word "free" comes up a lot more often than digital DJing. So in more recent times, like the evolution of that, more accessibility has been allowed. The big thing is that it's become commercialized, in my opinion. TikTok took it over, you know, and with TikTok comes popularity.



And with that, most of all, comes the aspect of money and fame. So, if you can press a few buttons, you can open for Beyonce or tour the world. And I feel like that's how a lot of people see it. Within our generation, becoming a DJ or DJing has become very egotistical, in my opinion, because they see how they can get rich and become famous. But a lot of those older niggas, like they had jobs, they worked, they...DJing was like a part of their life. But, like, until it was fully affordable, they just lived and made music. There's an interview by Mad Mike, where he was like, if they sell 20 records at Underground Resistance, 20 of their records, that money would be used to fund a baseball team, like in their local Detroit community area. That money was obviously for them, but it was also for the community. The aspect of wanting to DJ so I can, like, pay the bills so I can be rich and famous, I feel like it's more detrimental than positive.

E: It was like a passion project before, but then you make it about money, which becomes another job.

Exactly. There's still the community aspect, and there's still the personal pride and passion. But, you know, many people now dream of playing these big venues and everything and not escaping New York; they want to go play here, here, and there.

C: They're not doing it for the love of the game.

I won't say they aren't because I don't know how everyone thinks.

E: But they need to love the game harder.



They need to love the game harder. You need to just focus on the music. A big thing that's happened now with the aid of social media is that DJs will post a bunch of memes, or they'll be like, oh, you got to post like a face post for the algorithm. So your music pops up in it.

So, it becomes more about pushing yourself as an image rather than pushing yourself as music for the longest time. I know I'm saying his name a lot, but like he's one of the most major factors in all this. Mad Mike just wouldn't show his face. Even now, people like DJ Stingray or the minds behind Drexia don't show their faces because it's not they always say it's not about them. It's about the music and the message that the music carries.

C: What do you think about being like an artist and artists being very prominent in your life? Isn't that intertwined with you as a being?

It is.

C: So, covering your face and saying it's purely about the music. What do you think?

Obviously, I'm not gonna say that I'm hypocritical because I post my face. But it's just no, that wasn't it. Like, I didn't feel like I was starting for it. I think it's become another quote I forgot who said: oh, a quote by DVS1 was, now you can replace DJs with rock stars, or like pop stars. DJs like on the stage, you're all looking at them. You're all, in a sense, idolizing them and like the attention is on them, not the music and atmosphere that the club has and that you're hearing. It can be argued that people who make music and don't DJ are more important than DJs, and they're the real people behind it, which opens up a whole conversation. But those people like you're hearing their music, but you're not seeing their face. You're only seeing the DJ's face.

But to segue into the thing I just mentioned, a recent kind of hot topic is that, you know, some people say, like, if you DJ now, you should also produce. Because if you're just playing other people's music, are you different from an MP3 player? You're mixing it; you're adding your little flair to it. But if you look at a lot of the older dudes, Robert Hood, Jeff Mills, Umek, Monolink, anyone from Detroit, New York, Joey Beltram, and Adam X, all made music. Some people back then liked only DJ because producing a whole different ballpark. But producing music you can play in the club brings a different feeling.

E: Do you have any experience with producing?

I do. I've been producing just as long as I've been DJing. It's funny because I bought my Hercules mixer. At first, I thought I could use that to produce. And I was like, oh, I got to like to use a different program and like different tools. But the love for both has been like side by side. DJing is a lot easier, in my opinion, whether it's like vinyl or digital. DJing is way easier without sync, like any other. It's just way easier. Producing is like producing from scratch, like you got to look at a blank canvas and fully throw shit together. While, like DJing, you have building blocks in the sense of, oh, this synth kicks in, this kick drum kicks in. Here's a riding hat. So, producing is definitely at a different level than DJing.



CREATING A SAFE SPACE THROUGH BARRIERS?

E: In the past I have seen certain events where they charged non-indigenous or non-black people more to get in. Do you think this is a valid way of reclaiming a space?

It is a good way. Dweller kind of does that, you know, or at least it is what people advocate for. But I choose to go through education. Because some people don't know it's found in Detroit, Some people don't know who Jeff Mills is. They know techno is a sound but don't know the artists who pioneered it. They don't know these spaces are pioneered. They don't know where it comes from. So I feel like educating them and saying like, yo, like this is where it's from. And this is like, you know, this is like the birthplace of it.

E: Yeah, it's kind of like a rite of passage. You're not exactly against people consuming it. It’s just you want the people that are consuming it to be aware.

Of course. Yeah, I say gladly consume techno as much as I want in whatever form you want, whether it's like the traditional stuff, the newer stuff, or a mix in between, but nothing hurts with like learning about where it comes from because if you learn about where it comes from, it truly puts in perspective. Like, I feel like once you learn where techno comes from, it will help put you in perspective, like why people shit on Berlin or like why people are like, I guess, like, anti-Berlin or anti this new sound. It's not for hating reasons. It's because it's so far gone from where it came from. So the distaste for it doesn't come from, like, oh, like, it sucks. It's bad. It comes from you guys taking something meaningful and turning it into commercialization. I'm trying to think of a word for it, but.

C: I hear that because that's the same with rap.

Like rap, it's still black, and that's widely known. I feel like techno is way more lost than rap because, like rap, you know, you look at it like you ask a white boy who his favorite artist is, and he'll probably give you a black rapper easily. But techno has been, you know, as you said, like bastardized. As you look at some of the biggest DJs, like techno artists nowadays, like 99, and the people who are globally touring, I'm not going to name any more names, but you know, they're mainly white. So we're like everyone's dream is to pretty much play in Berlin, which brings up another Mad Mike quote where he's like Berlin and Europe aren't going to do shit for Detroit. You know, if they play out in Berlin, what's that going to do for the people back home in Detroit? Techno came from Detroit. It got exported, but I didn't see any of those people coming over to help out. I didn't see any people coming over to give me money.

C: Yeah, it's always going to be like that, unfortunately, with everything black.


(Juno looking for said records.)

PERFORMANCES

C: I see that you perform at shows a lot. Talk about whatgoes into preparing for a show, like what's going through your mind.

Real quickly, everyone says I play a lot. I do not play a lot. Yeah. So, with preparation, it's just going through what I have on the record box and kind of curating your vibe. I can say that truthfully, in all the sets I've recently played, I've played no recent song. Obviously, people are putting out amazing music now, but most of my sets I curate among older artists because, in my opinion, those like it's the best music ever made. Like there are countless Jeff Mills tracks. I just like it so much, from more like dub stuff to harder techno things that music will never be matched, in my opinion. So I say this: every show I play is like a history of techno.

C: So you mentioned that you curate a vibe, but how do you curate a certain vibe? Do you go based on the people, or do you do it like what you want to hear? Is it more important for what you want to hear rather than what the people are? Are you hoping they like what you like?

Well, and that's like the thing I only play techno. Recently, I did a show for a party series called Jungle Network. I don't play jungle, and everyone knows everyone knows I don't play jungle, but there are still techno tracks that are jungle-esque but still fit the traditional techno sound. So when it comes to me and what I play, if someone sees me on a lineup, they know what I play. I'm not switching it up if someone asks me if they pay me for a certain event; I'm going to play me, and I hope my playing attracts people who want to hear what I play. So, I like to stand my ground where I play, and I hope it attracts people who want to hear what I play. Rather than like, you know, trying to feed into the general audience.

C: So you're most likely never going to switch off techno?

No, techno till I die, I guess. Even techno has so many genres. Like I cap my tech, I cap my sets off at 145 BPM. They're very drum-based. There are chord progressions and synths. There's that. And then there's my love for dub techno, which is a more relaxed version of, I guess, techno. There are artists like Basic Channel and Flux. I'm blanking on names. But some amazing dub techno artists have just made amazing music as well. And it's so different from what I normally play. And I hope to start integrating more dub techno sets into when I play in the future.

C: Have you ever had a bad performance or a bad experience where either the people weren't fucking with you or you just, I don't know, you fucked up?

I've had people who weren't receptive to what I play.  I've had the people hold up their signs and play like, oh, can you play Black Bunny? Can you play Drake? Can you play songs like so and so? It's insane because it's, but it's like I don't play. I don't pay any mind. Like if you don't fuck with it, then you already paid to get in, so.



INSPO?

C: Okay, so you mentioned Jeff Mills a lot. So, who are some of your inspo's inspirations for techno? Any other artists that you'd like to mention? New age, old age?

New age. I'd like to shout out to One Morning, Amir, Max Watts, and Limited Network as a whole label, Trax Unit. A quick shoutout to Helltech. People from Queens, they're amazing. People throw renegades and push for that DIY, anti-establishment kind of culture from electronic music. But with my love, it's like there's The Advent, J Denim, Umek, and Monolink. There's just like, ah, who else? Naming names. Because it's the best way to describe what I play because people often ask what I play, and the term is, the term can be condensed into proper techno, but it's way easier to give artists, and then people listen to that artist and be like, "Oh, that's what you play." Rather than say proper techno or techno because it's such a wide genre now.



GOALS

C: What are some goals that you have coming up? Do you have anything coming up, or do you have any goals you're aspiring for within the next year or two?

I have no shows.  From what I know, I have no shows coming up, which I'm fully okay with. Let me not turn this into a long-winded question. I'm okay with not playing a show because it's not about playing shows for me. It's about practicing. It's about just enjoying the music. Playing shows is an aspect of it that brings in money and everything and brings attention, but it shouldn't just be about the attention. It should be about the music. And if you keep up the music you're playing and trust in yourself, people will come to you for those bookings. But my personal goal is just to play around New York. If I get booked anywhere else, that's cool, but I don't have goals such as, "Oh, I want to go on a tour and play all over the world." I just want to play. Wherever a place hits me up to play, I'll play. I'll share knowledge about techno music. We'll have discussions. My goals are more just enjoying it and not trying to be, I guess, a pop star, make it a pop star thing. But it would be cool if I played Dweller for one year.

C: What about Boiler Room? Do you fuck with Boiler Room?

Fuck no. Boiler Room is just as bad as TikTok. Boiler Room, because they put so much emphasis on the DJ. "Oh, it's in their face. The camera's in their face." You must put on theatrics because you can't be a boring DJ, and people just watch you. You've got to throw in theatrics. So Boiler Room, in my opinion, has been detrimental.


WHY DO YOU CREATE?

I do it because I just like the music. The music's just good. It's just put on my headphones. I can dance. I can listen to it. It's just a form of expression. I just enjoy it. Simple as that. It's just fun. Yeah, because some niggas make it so… I don't know what this is going to be in, but some niggas make it so deep. They're like, "Yeah, I want to sonically fuck the crowd in a mind-bending format and turn the crowd." And it's like, yo, it doesn't have to be that deep. It can just be like, "Yo, you want to see niggas dance?"

C: Any shoutouts?

Shoutout Rave for Palestine. They have an amazing Instagram page and organization that helps with push. That helps educate people on the ongoing issues in Palestine and Gaza and how they relate to the club scene, regardless of places not to support and places to support. And they're just a very good Instagram page and resource to someone who may not be fully educated on the matters going on there, but they are involved in the club scene on how they can be aware of who they're supporting and where their money's going.

HUUUGE SHOUTOUT TO JUNO FOR THIS! LISTEN TO THEIR LATEST MIX, IT’S GOOD WE SWEAR ON IT.
EXPECT MORE SOON. - e&c*

CREDITS

SUBJECT/BRAND : JUNO BASS @juno_likethesynth

PHOTOGRAPHER :  LAURA SONG @gh0stpimp

MODEL : JUNO BASS @juno_likethesynth

EDITOR: E&C* @acediastudios

TEXT : E&C* @acediastudios