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After Azealia Banks was dropped from Rinse’s Born & Bred festival yesterday (11th May) after a racist and homophobic Twitter rant, she has issued a...

Chicago house producer Felix Da Housecat has been denied entry to Berlin's Berghain over the weekend, accusing the famous nightclub of adopting a racist door...

Azealia Banks has issued an official apology for her racist and homophobic Zayn Malik Twitter outburst last week, after taking time to make a “more...

Dance music used to be all about getting off your chops to some amazing futuristic electronic sounds. The DJs would get as fucked up as...

Don't get DJ Mag wrong, there's been a long tradition of the remix as a credibility boost in the music industry. Back in the day, from the late '80s and the first crossover of house music onwards, dire popstrels of the ilk of Simply Red and the Spice Girls (or rather their record companies) would be queuing up for a taste of authentic dance flavour, getting cool names to remix their tracks in order to boost sales of 12”s.

Hey bird brains! You know what really gets on my wick? What really fucking winds me up? DJs, producers, artists (I use the term loosely)...

All this guff about the return of the resident... pah! Are you kidding me? Big clubs drafting in an already established marquee DJ for a...

Memory is a crazy thing. Psychology suggests that huge chunks of our memory are false constructs, whopping great brain porkies designed to bolster up whatever zany truths we’ve decided to believe about the world. Say, for example, that you think of yourself as a virile, dancefloor dominating master of the decks, a near mythical hybrid of Julio Bashmore, Sasha and Larry Levan.

Man approaches decks. “Alright love,” he says. Although my heart sinks, I smile politely and say hello back, hoping he’s not going to try and...

There are so many nonsensical phrases that people love blindly bandying about. You know the ones, the proverbial drivel that people throw around in states of cod-philosophical self-approbation, even if it actually makes about as much sense as Joey Barton’s Twitter feed.

Slowly and surreptitiously over the course of the last decades, a plague has infested and infected club land. It’s a disease that has eaten away at the core art of the DJ and at the very dynamics of almost any club night you care to attend.

It’s time for fading '90s producers to stop hyping their own records with snotty attacks on EDM and focus on writing some decent tunes…

I’m going to tell you a little story about dancing — this is a dance music mag, after all. It’s 1991. I’m deep in some ramshackle Northern warehouse rave. I’m at one with the universe, have just had my sixth life-changing conversation of the evening and am now busy chatting with my fourth new best friend in the last hour.

Time was, in the '80s and '90s when dance music was so massively marginalised by mainstream culture (yeah, so what’s new?) that trying to get...

“In the beginning, there was Jack, and Jack had a groove… One day Jack declared, "Let there be HOUSE!" and house music was born. And, you see, no one man owns house because house music is a universal language, spoken and understood by all... Jack is the one that can bring nations of all Jackers together under one house. You may be black, you may be white; you may be Jew or Gentile. It don't make a difference in OUR House.”