Music has always been my mother tongue. Before I spoke words, I heard congas. Before I learned math, I counted beats. My childhood was a soundtrack of salsa, cumbia, and merengue—records spinning, voices shouting, feet tapping across cracked tiles.
When I discovered deep house, it didn’t feel new; it felt like coming home through another door. The same pulse, the same syncopation—just filtered through new machines. I began layering Afro-Latin percussion over hypnotic basslines, letting analog warmth breathe inside digital sound.
Every snare, every hi-hat, every off-beat carries a story. My sets are bridges between continents—the soul of Bogotá meeting the nightclubs of Auckland. Latin rhythm taught me this: no matter how electronic music becomes, the heartbeat stays human.
