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Daniel Caesar holds himself to a predictable and impossible standard: “perfection,” he says.
It explains the title of his upcoming third album, NEVER ENOUGH (out April 7), which is the Toronto native’s first release since signing with Republic Records two years ago. It will also usher in a new, more alternative sonic chapter for the 27-year-old singer-songwriter. “If I was a punk artist, then I would want to be something else,” he says. “It’s really just not wanting to be boxed into anything.”
Caesar veered close to perfection in the early days of his rise, entering the industry with his 2017 debut, Freudian, which positioned him as R&B’s burgeoning golden child from north of the border. Freudian landed two singles on the Billboard Hot 100: “Get You,” featuring Kali Uchis and “Best Part,” alongside H.E.R. The latter — one of three Adult R&B Airplay chart-toppers for Caesar — earned him a Grammy Award for best R&B performance (“I crossed that off much sooner in my life than I ever thought I would,” he says of the win).
By year’s end, he landed two songs on former President Barack Obama’s favorite tracks of the year list. Perhaps most impressively, Caesar did it all as an independent artist working alongside a tight-knit team of fellow Canadian creatives and close friends. Together, they founded Golden Child Recordings after attending a handful of label meetings and realizing they already had all the resources to succeed. “The music was making some money, so we just kept reinvesting in ourselves,” says Caesar. “I’d never made any sort of music without them. It was everything I knew.”
Daniel Caesar photographed March 16, 2023 in New York.
Lea Winkler
But Freudian’s follow-up, 2019’s Case Study 01, struggled to replicate its predecessor’s success after Caesar shared controversial opinions on race relations on Twitter and Instagram Live. During one particular livestream, where he said he was drunk, Caesar questioned why the Black community was being “mean” to white people, saying, “That’s not equality.”
The subsequent backlash took him by surprise, and Caesar says he underestimated the reach and impact of his opinions. “I understand why it happened. I understood it then as well. I’m just so combative, and I didn’t think that I was wrong,” he admits today. “I was trying to move through the world [according to] how I think it should be and not how it is.”
It’s his comfort with vulnerability that makes Caesar’s introspective take on music feel like a deep sigh of relief, each sonic exhalation breathing new life into the R&B space. It is also what made his fall from grace an even harder pill for fans to swallow.
“I try to keep my privacy and not to speak too much to the public [out of] fear of being misunderstood,” he explains today. “My best mode of communication is music.”
Daniel Caesar photographed March 16, 2023 in New York.
Lea Winkler
Despite the overshadowing controversy, Case Study further cemented Caesar’s avant-garde take on R&B and proved a cohesive, replay-worthy body of work that boasted a No. 1 record on the Adult R&B Airplay chart, the Brandy-assisted “Love Again.”
Less than a year later, as the pandemic hit, Caesar took refuge at the “middle-of-nowhere” 36-acre farm he had bought his parents, located in a town two hours outside of Toronto. It was there that the Bajan-Jamaican artist began reconciling the last few years of his come-up — and contemplating how to advance his career.
Like many, Caesar maintained sanity by picking up quarantine hobbies, such as chess and studying Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist. He also went back to work: In 2021, he scored a Hot 100 No. 1 for his feature on Justin Bieber’s smash “Peaches” (alongside Giveon), and last year, he featured on Omar Apollo’s “Invincible.”
At the same time, he was focused on NEVER ENOUGH. Unlike the star-studded Case Study 01, Caesar returned to what he knows best: working both independently and with Toronto collaborators like badbadnotgood, Jordan Evans and Matthew Burnett and even his little brother, Zachary Simmonds, who co-wrote and co-produced “Valentina.”
The tracklist went through three iterations, with Caesar saying he initially felt anxious ahead of the album’s release. But he found reassurance in remembering why he makes music in the first place: “For me,” he declares, “it’s literally just to get these feelings off my chest. To make myself proud.”
Caesar’s demeanor is refreshingly self-aware. As he sits at a desk in his sunlight-soaked Manhattan loft, he weaves through the questions that kept him up at night and inspired the 15-track set. “If you dangle enough money in front of me, will I change my belief system? Can a woman make me change my world view? Or the proposition of sex? What do you fold on yourself for?” he asks rhetorically. “I’ve [folded] on myself and it’s hard. Those are the things that I beat myself up over.”
NEVER ENOUGH centers the introspective bars, soothing blend of woozy guitar and hypnotic harmonies fans have come to expect from Caesar, with hints of cross-genre influences. Phrases like “Do I titillate your mind?” do just that while suspended chords and R&B structure on tracks like “Always” and “Cool” resonate with purist listeners.
“When people ask me what kind of music I make, I always say R&B. Just to simplify things,” he says, adding that he senses a lack of innovation in the space. Luckily at Republic, Caesar has even more resources to continue expanding the genre space.
“I was finding it hard at Golden Child to be a record exec and an artist at the same time,” he says. “This was something I needed to do for myself for my development. I was like, ‘If I don’t do it, it’s because I’m scared.’ And I hate living in fear.”
Daniel Caesar photographed March 16, 2023 in New York.
Lea Winkler
Caesar met with eight or nine labels, saying he considered Columbia and Warner before signing with Republic. “Republic was actually the label where I said, ‘I would never go there,’ ” he recalls. “It’s just such a big label. They have all the biggest acts. I would be the least important person there.” But after meeting with label founder/CEO Monte Lipman and then-senior vice president of A&R Julian Swirsky, it became clear the label’s help would allow him to do exactly what he wanted: focus on his craft — and his fans. “I felt for a while, especially over [the pandemic], like I didn’t have a relationship with them, or it was severely fickle,” he says. “Like they love the songs, but they don’t care about me — which is completely reasonable. Why should they care about me?”
To reconnect, he met fans where they were: from the favelas of Brazil during Carnival (a country where he realized he has a large listenership) to his newly launched Discord channel (“It’s some Gen Z sh-t for real,” he jokes). He’ll celebrate the album’s release by kicking off his intimate North American and European underplay tour, One Night Only: An Evening With Daniel Caesar, which will begin April 7 in Los Angeles.
For Caesar, NEVER ENOUGH chronicles his path to becoming his own man while finding a balance between longtime trusted collaborators and welcoming well-established executives into the mix. “I always tell people, ‘I don’t believe in God. I believe in myself and the people around me that I love,’ ” he says. “I believe in our capabilities.”
A version of this story originally appeared in the April 1, 2023, issue of Billboard.
Libianca will always remember last year’s Friendsgiving — after all, she ran to the bathroom sobbing in the middle of it.
The former contestant on The Voice had recently quit her job as an independent living skills worker, and had been questioning her future as a professional singer. She was no longer interested in covering already established hits; she wanted to create a life-changing one of her own.
“I was talking to God, [thinking], ‘This life is so hard.’ I don’t know what the next step is, but I was working, working, and working, and not seeing anything in return,” she recalls over Zoom.
But the Friendsgiving breakdown left her inspired, and later in November, the embattled singer — who has been diagnosed with cyclothymia, a rare mood disorder that can cause extreme emotional highs and lows — chose to detail her pain through songwriting. She went on YouTube and found a beat that captured her discomfort, then recorded on Apple’s Logic Pro. Within a day, what began as a therapy session formed the foundation for “People,” the 22-year-old R&B-Afrobeats artist’s breakout hit and long-awaited ticket to stardom.
Born in Minnesota, Libianca Kenzonkinboum Fonji moved to Cameroon with her family when she was 4. There, she drew inspiration from her first babysitter, who enjoyed singing while cleaning around the house. Their relationship sparked Libianca’s initial love for singing, and by the age of 10, she began writing her own songs.
At 13, she moved back to Minnesota and joined a local choir, learning how to engineer, record and mix her vocals soon after. By her late teens, she was covering songs like SZA’s “Good Days” and Billie Eilish’s “Everything I Wanted,” the latter of which she also performed on The Voice in 2021.
Though she was ultimately eliminated after making the show’s top 20, her departure was soon followed by a string of independent one-off releases, including her cover of “Everything I Wanted” at the end of 2021 and a spin on Doja Cat’s “Woman” the following spring.
Libianca photographed on March 17, 2023 in Los Angeles.
Liam Woods
Yet the original single “People” is the one that cut through — and is a shining example of how sourcing your pain can have impactful results. While the track bursts with Afrobeats flavor, poignant lyrics like the opening line “I’ve been drinking more alcohol for the past five days/Did you check on me? Now, did you look for me?” ground the song while addressing the impact of substance abuse on mental health.
Libianca played the song for her manager M3tro, whom she met five years ago during her time as a student at the University of Minnesota (the two creatives became fast friends, and eventually roommates). And while he raved about the record, he instantly became concerned while listening to the lyrics. “Once she played the song, I asked her, ‘I know something’s going on, but what’s up?’ ” M3tro remembers. “That’s when I was like, ‘I really have to pay more attention.’ ”
Several days after writing and recording the breakthrough hit, Libianca posted a teaser clip on TikTok in which she was holding a bottle of wine as a snippet of the song played in the background. According to M3tro, within 30 minutes of uploading the clip, likes and comments started flooding her notifications. “Waking up the next morning to so many people feeling so connected to the song [was special],” Libianca says. “I saw families sending me videos of their babies singing the song, and [had] women messaging me about the sh-t that they go through in their homes and how this song needs to drop ASAP because it’s calling to their hearts.”
To date, the viral clip has compiled more than 4.8 million views on TikTok. Less than a week after the initial post, she upped the ante with a live rendition of the track in front of a simple color backdrop. The DIY clip has since earned 1.3 million views on Instagram and 2.5 million on TikTok.
The buzz surrounding the unreleased track soon caught the attention of acclaimed U.K. producer Jae5, who quickly reached out in hopes of signing Libianca to his 5K Records label, and did so last December — just one month after her memorable Friendsgiving. Once the deal was done, Jae quickly mixed the record and helped with the song’s final arrangement before its official release on Dec. 6.
“When it comes to music, that man is my big brother for life,” says M3tro of Jae5. “Not only is he that, but he’s also humble and genuine. He comes in like, ‘How can the music be the best way it needs to be?’ And we applaud him for that.”
Libianca (left) and M3tro photographed on March 17, 2023 in Los Angeles.
Liam Woods
“People” debuted on the Billboard U.S. Afrobeats Songs chart in mid-December — where it has held at a No. 2 high since January — and has 288.7 million official on-demand global streams through March 30, according to Luminate. The song also became Libianca’s first entry on the Billboard Global 200 and Billboard Global Excl U.S. charts. And in March, she dropped multiple remixes to maximize the crossover momentum, including one with fellow Afrobeats stars Omah Lay and Ayra Starr and another with Irish singer-songwriter Cian Ducrot.
“We were very particular about who else was gonna hop on this song, because the message is very crystal-clear,” says Libianca. “[‘People’] is very vulnerable, and anyone that comes on there has to be vulnerable as well in their own way.”
Libianca says that her next single, due later this month, will be about “a bunch of real sh-t we don’t like to talk about.” An EP will soon follow. “It doesn’t have to be sad, per se, but if it’s not something I can feel, I’m not gon’ release it,” she explains. “I want every single one of my songs to be an experience rather than just doing what I need to do to get the next check.”
A version of this story originally appeared in the April 1, 2023, issue of Billboard.
As Luke Combs’ booking agent, WME partner Aaron Tannenbaum, began plotting the European leg of the country star’s massive 2023 world tour, he encountered some promoters, in places like Hamburg, Germany, and Zurich, who were skeptical that a country act would sell tickets in Europe. So he repeated a kind of mantra to them: “You can always count on Luke Combs.”
He was right: Combs sold out all nine European dates he booked (and in substantially larger venues than initially planned). But the mantra — a testament not only to Combs’ dependability as a global touring act but to his rock-solid character — has plenty of less glamorous applications, too. Today, Combs, 33, is sitting in his manager’s Nashville office (a memento-filled monument to, well, him) at the beginning of our interview when a staffer pops her head in. “Nicole [Combs’ wife] needs your keys,” she says. The base of his 9-month-old son Tex’s car seat is in Combs’ truck, and Nicole needs to take the little guy to daycare.
“Do you know how to get it out?” Combs asks hesitantly. He starts to explain, then jumps up. “I’ll just do it, it takes literally one second.” He turns to me. “Baby stuff!”
You can always count on Luke Combs, and that is basically his brand. Without a shtick beyond “everyman,” Combs now fills stadiums nationwide as the Country Music Association’s reigning entertainer of the year, hot off his 15th No. 1 single on Billboard’s Country Airplay chart. Just your neighborhood consistent, reliable global sensation, on the cusp of bringing country to one of the widest non-pop crossover audiences it has ever had, signature red Solo cups in hand and fishing shirt on as he constructs a kind of fame that’s built to last.
“He’s just Luke, our friend, you know?” says his longtime tour manager, Ethan Strunk, who has been with Combs since he pitched himself to the singer when Combs walked into the Opry Mills Boot Barn in Nashville, where Strunk was working in 2016. “How little Luke has changed is baffling to me. There’s no way I could do it. He’s the same funny, funny guy. People say that all the time, but it’s just the truth.”
With his fourth studio album, Gettin’ Old (which arrived March 24 on River House Artists/Columbia Nashville), and an ongoing 16-country international tour, which kicked off at AT&T Stadium in Arlington, Texas, on March 25, Combs not only wants to cement his place at the top of the country heap but prove that he can transcend it — without changing anything about himself or his music. As Combs puts it, “The music has the ability to reach a lot more people than the marketing behind it does. We have a little bit of something for everybody, and that’s the way I want it to be.”
HB shirt, Harbor Bay T-shirt, Joe’s Jeans jeans, M.L. Leddy boots, Miller Lite vintage hat.
Eric Ryan Anderson
The North Carolina native has colored outside of country’s lines from the start. He built buzz on social media and through local live shows before signing with Lynn Oliver-Cline of River House Artists, and though he did eventually do some conventional radio circuits and a little time in the opening-slot trenches, it only took him two years to go from playing 250-capacity clubs to headlining his first arena tour.
His team, which has remained more or less the same since he started touring heavily in 2015, attributes his massive and rapid success in part to the unorthodox approach it has taken from the beginning. “The strategy was, ‘Let’s play the rooms that a rock act would play,’ ” says his manager, Chris Kappy, of the early days. “We didn’t play all the honky-tonks like everybody else did.”
“We had the mentality that we needed to push the limits of what you would think a country artist can and would do,” adds Tannenbaum. He booked Combs outside the genre at festivals like Lollapalooza (2018), Bonnaroo (2017) and Austin City Limits (2017) — and out of the country (in the United Kingdom and Australia), building a foundation for the international draw he has now. “Everything we’re doing as far as expanding globally, it’s not really off-script,” Tannenbaum says. “It’s just a different iteration of the same thing we’ve been doing since the beginning.”
That thing is an ever-growing iteration of Combs, the singer-songwriter, which, to the outsider, hasn’t changed all that much from his 250-person club dates. “Even when we started out in arenas, we didn’t want any fire or any crazy stunts,” says Combs. “You just come out and do the show, right? I think sometimes that can be so powerful in and of itself.” (He adds with jovial self-deprecation: “I’m not running around like Kenny Chesney.”)
Combs started sprinkling in stadium dates when he resumed touring following the pandemic pause in 2021, starting with Kidd Brewer Stadium at Appalachian State University in Boone, N.C., his would-be alma mater had music not come calling. Some initial trial and error was necessary because no one on his team had ever been part of a stadium tour.
“We always wanted the show to be about the music and to feel intimate somehow — which is a mega challenge in a stadium,” says Combs. “How do you entertain that many people? How do you make it an experience worth coming back to? There are people traveling a long way to come to this.”
Yet so far he has resisted the temptation to entice return customers by adding more eye-popping elements to his set. The show is Combs and seven band members, with strategically positioned video monitors to make everyone in the stadium feel as close to Combs as possible — and that’s basically it.
“I’m not flying in on a motorcycle,” he quips. “Live band, no tracks. Everything going out of the speakers, we’re f–king playing it when you hear it.”
That’s not to say Combs doesn’t see the value in elaborate stadium production — it’s just not for him. “Taylor Swift is like going to see Ringling Bros., and my show is like going to a demolition derby,” he jokes. “You’re coming to drink beer and be like, ‘Hell yeah.’ ”
Luke Combs photographed on March 14, 2023 at the Nashville Municipal Auditorium.
Eric Ryan Anderson
There has been something of a learning curve as Luke Combs Inc. has adjusted to a stadium-size setup. For example, the thrust stage used at Combs’ first stadium shows — Kidd Brewer in 2021 and Atlanta, Denver and Seattle in 2022 — was 8 feet tall, making it nearly impossible for Combs to see, much less connect with fans in the pit.
“Especially coming off doing the 360 arena thing, where you’re right in the middle and everybody feels pretty close, you go out in the stadiums and man, once the spots hit you out there, you almost can’t see anything,” says Combs. “You can see two rows of people, and then there’s just like infinite blackness.”
This time, the thrust will be both larger and at a lower level than the main stage. “You’re more in the crowd,” Combs adds. “I really wanted to feel that. I love playing small clubs, and feeling like people are right there is really nice.”
“Fans first” is the slogan of Kappy’s Make Wake management company, and one that permeates its decisions. Combs’ fans, called the Bootleggers, are so named for one of his early “hits” (his scare quotes), “Let the Moonshine,” and its ties to his Appalachian upbringing. He and Kappy started a private Facebook group for Bootleggers in 2015, the same year Kappy began managing a then-unsigned Combs; today, it has over 175,000 members, despite being entirely separate from the official Bootleggers club that fans can now sign up for on Combs’ own site to access perks and presales. One of those perks is the VIB (Very Important Bootlegger) meet-and-greet giveaway — which is the only VIP offering on Combs’ tours and completely free.
“I’ve always just felt really weird about, like, charging people to meet me,” he says. “Maybe that’s just me feeling like, ‘Well, it’s not worth it.’ ” By making meet-and-greets almost completely random (25 fans are chosen per show through a lottery on Combs’ site), Combs gets to see “a real representation of who’s there,” as he puts it. “I just want to meet people who came to the show, whether it’s their first show or their 50th show. It’s like people who would have never gotten the chance to meet me or could never have afforded it. Because I couldn’t have afforded that growing up.”
His manager is willing to put it more bluntly. “That’s not the type of people we want,” Kappy recalls telling a banker when turning down a $5,000 offer to meet Combs at the AT&T Stadium show. “I’d rather have the guy who can barely afford to come to the show because that’s more of a real fan than you wanting a picture with Luke for your Instagram.”
“I always want my fans to understand that I’ve never made any decisions based off how much money I can get out of them,” Combs says. “It already costs so much to do anything, right? I want them to love the music and feel like they saw a great show that someone put a lot of f–king thought into and did it at a price that was affordable to them.”
Asos shirt, Harbor Bay T-shirt, Joe’s Jeans jeans, Bass Pro Shops hat.
Eric Ryan Anderson
That’s why he has kept ticket prices at pre-pandemic levels (an average of $88) and has a section of $25 tickets at every show; why he has free preparties and tailgates attached to most of his stadium dates; why he refunded fans after a set in Maine last year because he felt like his voice wasn’t up to snuff (despite the fact that he did perform a shortened set); why he doesn’t only tour in the places where it’s most straightforward and lucrative. Combs is playing the long game.
“We’re trying to build a career so people can meet at a Luke Combs show and then eventually bring their kids to it and be like, ‘This is how it all happened,’ ” Kappy explains.
“Could I have gone out and done super-mega platinum tickets at even more stadiums and made an assload of money? Probably so,” Combs adds. “But I think eventually the fans will be like, ‘I’m not doing that again.’ ”
And it’s still more efficient for him: nearly 1 million tickets sold for 2023, for the fewest dates (39) he has worked in years. For 16 weeks, he’ll bus into North American cities on Thursday night, rehearse Friday, play Saturday and return to his home outside Nashville on Sunday. Then, after three weeks in Australia and three weeks in Europe and the United Kingdom (with a sizable break in between), he’s done for the year, without needing to bring Nicole and baby Tex along for the ride. “One show a week is like … dude!” he says. “People dream about doing one show a week.”
Combs’ international appeal is rooted in that same fans-first ethos. He went to play in Australia when it wasn’t profitable; now, the only reason he’s not booking multiple nights at stadiums there is because his trip coincides with the Women’s World Cup and all such venues are booked.
“There was a trust factor between he and I,” Kappy explains. “I said, ‘Look, I need you to do this, and you’re going to lose money. But instead of going and playing Raleigh every July at the amphitheater, you’re going to build markets.” Now Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane, Australia, are among Combs’ top 10 streaming cities worldwide; some of the cities in Oceania where Combs is selling out arenas on this year’s tour, he has never even played before.
“People in our genre have always been so content with just doing [the] lower 48 because that has been good, that has been great. That has been safe. That’s where the money is,” says Combs. “But I feel like country music has such a place in the world outside of just the States.”
Luke Combs photographed on March 14, 2023 at the Nashville Municipal Auditorium.
Eric Ryan Anderson
There is no template for what Combs has been able to accomplish internationally, and the biggest hurdle, according to his management team, has been getting promoters on board without any comparable artists to reference — mostly by insisting repeatedly that the demand is nearly insatiable. “We didn’t come here to punt,” Kappy says. “So the goal is like, ‘Let’s throw a Hail Mary.’ And a lot of our Hail Marys are getting caught.”
A favorite anecdote among Team Combs is about when the singer played Quebec City’s multigenre Festival d’Été last summer — a booking that apparently made some of the event’s organizers nervous.
“I had personally been aggressively pursuing that opportunity for Luke for five years, and I kept getting back, ‘No, country doesn’t really work up here. He’s not a headliner,’ ” says Tannenbaum. Combs drew upwards of 70,000 people.
“Everybody was singing every word to every song — even the deep cuts — but then he would stop and everyone was speaking French,” Kappy recalls.
“He’s a unicorn,” says Tannenbaum. “I don’t really know how else to say it.”
That Quebec City date helped raise their expectations for this international tour. “We believed we had something really big with this,” Tannenbaum explains. “However, there wasn’t much precedent for the promoters to calibrate their expectations on, and the comps the promoters did have didn’t perform very well.”
So Tannenbaum and his colleagues at WME agreed to book European venues they felt confident Combs could fill several times over, because those were the ones they could get promoters to sign on with, and were prepared with options to upgrade all of them to larger rooms if tickets sold well enough. Every single European date got upgraded. Combs’ Copenhagen show in October, for example, was initially booked in a 1,500-capacity club; due to demand, it was upgraded to a 12,000-seat arena. “We’re not stopping there — South America is our next big, big goal,” says Tannenbaum. “By and large, this is virgin territory for artists coming from the world Luke has established himself in. But we’ve overcome similar barriers and precedents elsewhere in the world, and we expect to achieve the same success in these markets.”
And incredibly, Combs has been able to reach pop star levels of global success with nary a whiff of pop crossover, aside from a CMT Crossroads special with Leon Bridges and a cover of Ed Sheeran’s “Dive.” (He does cover Tracy Chapman on his new record, a decision made partly out of his personal fear that some people today might not know “Fast Car.”)
“Luke Combs is a country artist, and Luke is very happy being just a country artist,” says Kappy. “If the opportunity presented itself to do something in that world, sure, but we’re not looking to take a song to [adult top 40] or something like that when we’re still reaching new ears. Three chords and the truth work everywhere.”
Though he might make it look easy, taking over the world as Luke Combs, regular guy, has its challenges. “I think what has been one of my biggest assets has also been one of the things that was the hardest for me,” Combs says. “I am just me. There’s not, like, an act. My driver license says ‘Luke Combs’ on it. I’m 300 pounds with a neck beard. I can’t go out and not wear a hat and people don’t know who I am.
“I struggled with that a lot because I almost felt trapped, like a zoo animal or something,” he continues. “Now I don’t even think about it anymore.”
So Combs signs the autographs and takes the pictures, accepting them as a sometimes invasive part of the job he signed up for, and reminding himself that he would much rather people hate his music and think he’s a “pretty sick dude” than the opposite. He would prefer to insulate his son (and, soon, Tex’s little brother: Combs and Nicole just announced they’re expecting) from the craziness that comes with superstardom but knows that it’s only a matter of time before he has to explain why people come up to them in the grocery store.
“I don’t want him to be like, ‘My dad’s so great because he’s a country singer,’ ” he says. “I want him to be like, ‘My dad’s so great because he gives a f–k about me and goes fishing with me and listens to my problems and helps me when I’m scared.’ ”
It’s hard to find a chink in Combs’ grounded armor, a reason not to buy in the way that hundreds of thousands of fans now have — trusting that whether or not they speak his language, or relate to his songs’ Southern touchstones, or also wear hunting gear and cowboy boots and Crocs (with whom he has collaborated on a comfy clog), they can count on him to make them feel something. They can do that without spending their savings because accessibility is a top priority for Combs and his team, right after the music. “Look at how much money we’re making,” he says. “Does it really even matter if we make double? What’s the difference between having $5 million and $500 million? How much happier are you? Is it that much? Or is it like 1% happier?”
Instead, he wants to chart a career, and a life, that’s extraordinary in its very ordinariness.
“I didn’t get into music to be famous or rich,” Combs concludes. “I got into music because I love singing. I love singing for big crowds of people, and I feel like I’m good at it. People like to hear me do it. And I want to continue to do that as long as possible.”
This story will appear in the April 1, 2023, issue of Billboard.
In the fall of 2012, Richie Hawtin took to the road in the United States for CNTRL, a college campus tour intended to educate young audiences about the history of dance music. The run included lectures by day — and, naturally, dancing after dark.
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The timing wasn’t accidental. This was the dawn of the EDM era, with big room sounds lighting up mainstages at emerging festivals and mega-clubs around the U.S., pulling in a new generation of dance music fans like moths to a pyro flame.
Hawtin, sensing which way the wind was blowing, organized CNTRL to show nascent dance music fans electronic sounds beyond EDM, with Hawtin serving as a key figure of techno and minimal techno since the Canadian producer first got into the sound in the late ’80s. (His hometown in Windsor, Ontario was, after all, just a short drive from Detroit, the birthplace of techno.)
Over the last decade, Hawtin’s vision of getting the masses into techno worked — in fact, maybe too well. Over the last half decade the sound has thumped out of the underground and onto mainstages, with one strain of it in particular — tech house — becoming the United States’ most trendy and hyped dance music genre of the moment, supplanting EDM.
“It feels like what’s happened is, the sound of techno was actually influenced by that EDM boom,” Hawtin says over Zoom from his elegant home in Berlin. “What’s happening in the scene is really a mixture of techno from the ’90s and EDM sensibilities of big drops and personality-led music. It’s been a huge kind of jumbled-up, even confusing development the last four or five years.”
Once again reading the room, Hawtin decided it was time for another tour intended to educate audiences via the dancefloor. Wrapping earlier this month, this eight-show run — From Our Minds — hit cities in the U.S. and Canada and featured a crew of rising techno producers (“other like-minded weirdos,” Hawtin calls them) who he selected for their skills in making techno with a “faster, ferocious type of tempo and strength, but it’s much more minimal.” (One of the featured artists, Lindsey Herbert, in fact discovered techno while attending a CNTRL set back in 2012.)
Hawtin sees this crew — Herbert, Barbosa, Declan James, Decoder, Henry Brooks, Jay York, Michelle Sparks, with support from Deep Pedi, Huey Mnemonic and Jia — as part of a network of underground producers that gelled during the pandemic. He calls this time “a great incubator for new talent, as it kind of leveled the playing field. Anybody who could plug in a computer and stream or make good set had a better opportunity to reach fans sitting at home, and not going to clubs, and not expecting international tours. I think that was the thing, especially in North America, that helped a new generation of artists come through more than they had in the last couple of years.”
The post-pandemic moment in fact reminded Hawtin of his own early days in the scene — just one more full circle moment inherent in From Our Minds. Here, Hawtin reflects on the tour, and and on techno at large.
Given the prevalence of techno currently in the States, do you feel satisfied with where it’s all at? Are you satisfied with the sound?
Yeah, that’s a good question. “Satisfied” is a good word. I think part of me is satisfied that electronic music and even a form of techno has now really become mainstream. It’s huge. Where you could have said in the past on the big stages that it was a form of trance, or some form of house — now it is definitely a form of techno. And yeah, that satisfies the kid who always wanted to see more people come into the door of techno.
But it doesn’t satisfy my need to feel that I’m part of something which is alternative. Because I don’t think all the music that is played on the bigger stages now is actually made, created or enjoyed by people who feel a little bit different than the masses.
How do you mean?
I was talking to everyone on the tour, and we all kind of got into this music because we didn’t really fit in. We felt like we were the weirdos. I guess I don’t feel as weird as I used to be — maybe I’m pretty normal now — but that was a big part of the attraction, that it wasn’t what everybody else was listening to. So although part of my psyche can accept some satisfaction, part of my of my inner being was very excited and satiated and inspired to go back on tour with other like-minded weirdos playing stripped down, minimalistic music, and playing to crowds that when you looked out, felt like they were a bit of the outcasts and had found themselves on another dirty dance floor.
It’s almost like what you were trying to do with CNTRL, in terms of educating mainstream audiences about the roots of dance music, worked too well, and it’s like, “oh, no — it’s so big now that it’s become mainstream too.”
Yeah. Be careful what you wish for. I’ve thought about that a lot — how the juggernaut of techno grew to this size. I remember certain decisions [I made]; I even I reread a couple of old interviews back from 20, 25 years ago, and things I said or did to actually welcome people into this world. I never wanted it to be just so insular and insider that it became hierarchical.
Electronic music, techno music, the music that started my career and that grabbed me back in the late ’80s, was something very different than what else was going on [then.] It made me feel welcome and invited lots of diversity and introduced me to people I never would have met in any other circumstance. I hope those ideals are still on the dance floors I’m playing to. I think as the music and the scene gets bigger and does welcome all types of people, the bigger it gets, the less that happens and the more homogenous the dance floor becomes.
Why do you think size and growth induces homogenization?
Is there an answer? Can I make one without, like, talking down on someone? I think an open, eclectic, free-forming dance floor needs to be led and/or inhabited by lots of very open-minded people. And I actually think as much as the internet and social media has spread the idea of “let’s all be different,” it’s also spread the idea of “let’s all be the same.” When social media and these platforms are our main source of promotion, and marketing, and letting people know what’s out there — the bigger you get, the more focused it becomes on the image, on the sound, on the personality, on everything else.
The globalization facilitated by social media kind of flatlines things in a way where it all looks the same, regardless of territory.
When you’re thinking about music, and places like Spotify, and this long tail that they speak about, it’s all the weird stuff at the end [of that tail.] And the mass stuff isn’t just like, great pop music — it’s a lot of things that sound the same. It’s the same artists over and over again. I was just talking to a friend of mine about a rather large electronic musician who just had a new album out. I was like, “It just seems like they’ve invited a bunch of other people in to collaborate, just like every other pop album seems to do.” It’s so much the same.
You mentioned house big techno has gotten, but how is it evolving into those weirder spaces that you like?
Really, what I intended to showcase on the tour is the type of music I’ve always loved. It takes cues from what’s happening and from other strains of electronic music right now, which is definitely based upon a much faster, ferocious type of tempo and strength — but it’s much more minimal, which of course, I love. It’s stripped of most vocals and any other kind of sample references, and it’s just hypnotic.
I was talking recently with another artist who’d just done a gig in New York. It was a big warehouse party, but they were playing more of that [hypnotic] style of music and weren’t sure about the reaction, because people weren’t putting their hands up in the air. And nothing against hands in the air — [at] an outside venue or big festival, that makes sense. But in a warehouse where it’s dark and pummeling, I think the best thing you can do is let people lose themselves in music and maybe not react, maybe not look at you. Maybe you shouldn’t be on stage. At all of our events, we had everyone basically on the floor, or maybe one step up, just so people could see their heads.
A set-up that de-emphasizes the artist.
Yeah, it does. I don’t know if we want or need to go back to the the faceless DJ in the corner who never got any actual notice or respect — maybe that would be too far. As part of the tour we brought on a company called Aslice, which allows [artists] to upload [the setlist] after the event, and [people can] donate money to those songs — kind of like a tipping jar — to bring some more money to the producers who are making music, and who are just not making enough through all the different avenues out there, specifically streaming.
I’m part of [the company], and I feel very strongly about that kind of initiative. Because one, the artists and producers need that money, but two, it also reminds us that no matter how good the superstar DJ is at the head of the dance floor, if they’re not playing great music, they’re not gonna go anywhere.
Right. It also de-emphasizes the artist onstage and reminds people that it took a lot of artists to create that set.
This tour is also to remember and celebrate that we’re all wrapped up in music [made by people] who aren’t actually there. That’s a really special situation, where other people’s music is being played, and somebody else is controlling it and that people are losing themselves on music they’ve maybe never heard before or will never hear again. That’s not like 99% of people who go to 99% of the concerts out there, who are hoping to hear and sing along with their favorite song.
It sounds like this tour allowed you to present artists you’re excited about in a format you really believe in.
The the format of the dance floor, the dark warehouse, the simplicity of that, is the foundation of where this whole scene came from. As we said, we can be satisfied that it’s actually [become] so many different things. But if the foundation isn’t kept going, and if the foundation isn’t respected, and if the unseen artists and producers [aren’t respected], then it all starts to unravel. If I’ve played a little bit of a part in helping things grow over the last 30 years, and I also want to be part of making sure that foundation stays strong for the next 30 years.
In August 1989 — 26 years after releasing their first single, and seven years since their last tour — The Rolling Stones hit the road. Over the next calendar year, the Steel Wheels/Urban Jungle Tour took the rock legends around the world, playing over 100 shows and reaffirming their commercial clout.
Two similarly epic yearlong treks — 1994-95’s Voodoo Lounge world tour and 1997-98’s Bridges to Babylon tour — followed; the three outings grossed $661.7 million combined, according to Billboard Boxscore, or roughly $1.3 billion today, adjusted for inflation. In the process, the Stones defined what middle age could look like for rock artists and proved that established acts with deep catalogs and legions of fans still had touring potency.
As the Stones crisscrossed the globe in the ’90s, new rock heroes like blink-182 and Weezer were making names for themselves. Now, three decades later, those acts are as deep into their careers as the Stones were into theirs in the ’90s. And as older touring stalwarts like Paul McCartney, Elton John and the Stones stare down their golden years, alt-rock’s now middle-aged lodestars have started to assume the mantle of reliable, top-grossing arena and stadium artists (and at roughly the same time that their most loyal fans, who’ve aged along with them, have deeper pockets to afford such tickets). But the blueprint they’re using isn’t identical to their precursors.
The 2021-22 Hella Mega Tour took Green Day, Fall Out Boy and Weezer to stadiums in the United States and Europe — proving along the way to fans and industry insiders alike that alt-rockers of the ’90s and early aughts could now fill the kinds of venues that were once only the provenance of pop stars and classic rock acts.
“Hella Mega obviously laid some framework for, ‘Hey, these rock tours are still really, really big; these songs are still so relevant,’ ” says Live Nation global tour promoter Steve Ackles, who worked on the team behind the stadium run. “Green Day, blink-182, a lot of those bands in that genre, the songs really never went away. I think there’s an authenticity in their songwriting that has just created timeless music.”
With a gross of $92.2 million, according to Billboard Boxscore, the bill also proved the commercial viability of package tours, the format that forgoes lesser-known openers in favor of support artists who themselves can drive substantial ticket sales. “It was one plus one plus one equals five,” says Crush Music co-founder Bob McLynn, whose company manages Hella Mega’s three marquee bands. “I definitely know it influenced a lot of the different tours out there. A package is nothing new, but I think a package of that nature was definitely groundbreaking.”
On Hella Mega, Weezer played before Fall Out Boy and Green Day, but this year, the band will headline amphitheaters on its Indie Rock Roadtrip, a package offering with rotating support from Modest Mouse, Spoon, Future Islands, Momma, Joyce Manor and White Reaper. “I think their touring is stronger than ever,” McLynn says of Weezer, which toured the United States every year from 2008 to 2019. “I think the fan base is stronger than ever, and I think continuing to put out great new music is a part of that.”
Since 2019, Weezer has released four albums and four EPs, which have spawned four No. 1 hits on Billboard’s Alternative Airplay chart. McLynn recognizes that “there’s legacies tied to all these acts” but emphasizes the importance of “not just playing defense with the brand, [but] playing offense with it.”
“There’s definitely acts out there that just kind of rest on their brand and their catalog, and they go out and they do successful tours,” he continues. “But most of the acts we work with really are about innovating, and they’re still hungry to make new and better music.” In doing so, a band like Weezer can remain front of mind for existing fans while, critically, reaching new ones — who, thanks to the accessibility that streaming offers, can become superfans in short order.
Pop-punk legends blink-182 co-headlined the Bleezer Tour with Weezer in 2009, and this year will set out on a hotly anticipated trek of its own. While blink-182 toured in the latter half of the 2010s, it hasn’t hit the road with founding member Tom DeLonge since 2014, making its 2023 arena outing — which coincides with an upcoming new album by the original trio and a 13-week Alternative Airplay No. 1 in October’s “Edging” — a must-see for fans.
“This was by far the fastest-selling tour of their career,” says CAA co-head of North American touring and music agent Darryl Eaton, who has booked the band since 1999. “We’ve done the numbers in the past, but we’ve never done the numbers at this velocity.” For Eaton, while blink-182 has a strong foundation of classic hits and longtime fans, it’s far from a nostalgia act, narrowly defined. “I’ve always marveled at how they absolutely regenerate a young fan base,” he says.
Blink-182 hasn’t embarked on its tour yet — drummer Travis Barker sustained a gnarly finger injury in rehearsal, forcing a postponement of the run’s first leg, in South America, until 2024 — but Eaton makes informed predictions about its audience today based on the success of 2022’s pop-punk-focused Las Vegas fest When We Were Young, which blink-182 will headline along with Green Day this fall. At When We Were Young, “it was a lot of young kids,” he says. “Yeah, a lot of people in their 30s and 40s [were] going and reliving it, but it was also a huge amount of energy and interest in a much younger audience.”
Death Cab for Cutie debuted slightly later than Weezer or blink-182 — its first album, Something About Airplanes, dropped in 1998 — but has followed a similar path to becoming a road fixture: consistent touring, reverence for its catalog, commercially successful new material and a big-tent approach that welcomes returning fans along with new ones. This fall, Death Cab will embark on one of its biggest tours to date, and one that was informed partly by industry trends — albeit with a twist.
“COVID-19 happened, but even before then, we started seeing the proliferation of these package tours,” says Brilliant Corners founding partner Jordan Kurland, who has managed Death Cab since 2003, citing Hella Mega as an example. But for Death Cab frontman Ben Gibbard, this fall’s package tour will be an unusual co-headline — one with himself. Shortly before the pandemic, Gibbard had broached the idea of a tour featuring Death Cab and The Postal Service (his one-off project with producer Jimmy Tamborello and singer Jenny Lewis), pegged to the 20th anniversaries of their respective 2003 classics, Transatlanticism and Give Up, to Kurland and longtime agent Trey Many of Wasserman. “It took a little while to settle in, and then as we started seeing this trend, touring these packages, we’re like, ‘Holy sh-t, this is a great idea,’ ” Kurland says.
The tour announcement earned an immediate and passionate response as elder millennials cheered the sentimental bill — Gibbard will play the entirety of both albums at a mix of arenas, amphitheaters and theaters — and younger fans delighted in the opportunity to see The Postal Service, which has only toured twice (in 2003 and 2013) for the first time. But while the rare Postal Service outing, along with Death Cab’s decision to play Transatlanticism, make this tour unique, the latter band has, through reliable performances and consistent releases (including 2022’s acclaimed Asphalt Meadows, which yielded the Alternative Airplay No. 1 “Here to Forever”), cultivated the kind of loyal live following that transcends nostalgia. When Death Cab played Denver-area Red Rocks Amphitheatre in September 2021, “there were a lot of high school kids,” Kurland recalls. “Death Cab has now become a band that gets handed down, whether it’s from parents or older siblings. The band is still finding new people.”
“Gen Z, millennials, Gen X, boomers; it’s a little bit of everybody,” Many adds. “Death Cab has continued to gain those younger fans as they continue to work and play great shows and make great records.”
That may ultimately be the key to touring longevity for rock’s new classics. Acts like Weezer, blink-182 and Death Cab have matured without sacrificing creative vitality or commercial relevance; by comparison, consider Billy Joel, who hasn’t released a rock album since 1993 but still tours a beloved catalog that spanned 22 years in stadiums and arenas, or other peers whose token new songs have long been derisively classified as fodder for bathroom breaks.
“Songs will outlast any sort of genre spike,” Many says. “Great songs go beyond the initial scene that maybe helped make them popular.”
“These catalogs have always stood the test of time,” notes Live Nation’s Ackles. “And now, I think you might have more and more of these bands saying, ‘Hey, let’s go out on a tour.’ ”
This story will appear in the April 1, 2023, issue of Billboard.
In many ways, the history of popular music over the last several decades can be traced through the eyes of one Alfred M. Yankovic. A master satirist who spent years fashioning pun-filled, ornately produced send-ups of the most popular hits of any given time period, “Weird Al” Yankovic paid homage to the ‘80s pop anthems of Michael Jackson and Madonna, the ‘90s grunge of Nirvana, the turn-of-the-century top 40 Billboard Hot 100 fodder of Backstreet Boys and Avril Lavigne, the rap stylings of Eminem and T.I. and much more. While Yankovic makes a habit of asking the permission of any artist he’s satirizing, being spoofed by “Weird Al” has long been a badge of honor — if he’s making a parody of your song, your song is important.
And yet, Yankovic does not only exist for comedy fans: his send-ups of popular tracks are so well-done, and so catchy, that they have often become popular on their own merit. Over the course of his career, “Weird Al” has launched multiple songs onto the Billboard Hot 100 chart — with one even reaching the top 10. And while Yankovic hasn’t released a proper album since 2014’s Mandatory Fun, he’s still active on tour, playing these parody hits to thousands of adoring fans. In 2022, Yankovic tapped Daniel Radcliffe to play him in Weird: The Al Yankovic Story, a “Weird Al” biopic that fittingly satirized musician biopic tropes (and had little basis in reality, but was still hilarious).
Check out “Weird Al” Yankovic’s 10 biggest Billboard hits to date below.
“Fat”
Hot 100 Peak Position: No. 99Peak Date: May 21, 1988
Although “Fat” is not “Weird Al’s” biggest hit — it’s not even his biggest Michael Jackson parody — its 1988 music video, in which Yankovic dons a fat suit and shakes his massive hips in leather, is arguably his most iconic clip to date.
“I Lost On Jeopardy”
Image Credit: Courtesy Photo
Hot 100 Peak Position: No. 81Peak Date: July 7, 1984
When “Weird Al” spoofed the Greg Kihn Band’s 1983 song “Jeopardy” by singing about the now-iconic game show, Alex Trebek had only been the Jeopardy! host for three months.
“Word Crimes”
Peak Position: No. 39Peak Date: Aug. 2, 2014.
While Robin Thicke used his 2013 No. 1 Hot 100 hit “Blurred Lines,” feat. Pharrell and T.I., to reignite his music career and ask “What rhymes with ‘hug me’?,” “Weird Al” discarded all of its lasciviousness and gave us… the most fun song about grammar ever created? “Okay, now here’s some notes / Syntax you’re always mangling / No x in ‘espresso’ / Your participle’s danglin’!” he croons, making listeners with and without English degrees want to boogie.
“King of Suede”
Hot 100 Peak Position: No. 62Peak Date: May 19, 1984
On “King of Suede,” “Weird Al” took aim at the Police’s “King of Pain” by pawning off some fabric (“If you need a tuxedo for your junior prom/We can get you the best one that’s made in Taiwan”) nearly three decades before Macklemore & Ryan Lewis invaded the “Thrift Shop.”
“Ricky”
Image Credit: Courtesy Photo
Hot 100 Peak Position: No. 63Peak Date: May 28, 1983
“Weird Al” Yankovic’s earliest Hot 100 hit, “Ricky,” was a power-pop send-up of Toni Basil’s “Mickey” that focused on I Love Lucy; the video features a moustache-free Yankovic going full Desi Arnaz.
“Smells Like Nirvana”
Image Credit: Courtesy Photo
Hot 100 Peak Position: No. 35Peak Date: May 16, 1992
As the story goes, when “Weird Al” Yankovic approached Nirvana to parody “Smells Like Teen Spirit” with a song titled “Smells Like Nirvana,” Kurt Cobain asked him if the lyrics were going on to list off smelly things. Instead, Yankovic opted to poke fun at Cobain’s enunciation, as “Weird Al” sung about crooning with “marbles in my mouth.”
“Amish Paradise”
While house music was already popping when Todd Terry entered the scene in the late ’80s, the New York producer grabbed hold of the sound and evolved it — mixing house with breaks and hip-hop and forging an altogether grittier strain that became his signature.
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This sound scored Terry a pair of No. 1’s on Dance Club Songs in the late ’90s while making him a fixture in New York clubland and points well beyond it. He, like many house producers of the day, found a particularly warm welcome in London, which in the ’90s joyfully embraced the genre that would take much of the States longer to figure out.
Terry in fact helped put dance music on Top 40 radio in the U.S. via an England-born song, with his now-classic remix of Everything But The Girl‘s “Missing.” Terry’s edit added a beat and a New York club vibe to the previously spare track, becoming the de facto version of the song and helping push it to global ubiquity (and No. 2 on the Billboard Hot 100).
He’s been a constant on the scene since, dropping a steady drip of tracks, albums, compilations and remixes for the past 35 years — dropping 1,000 original productions and 1,600 remixes in total, many of them through his own InHouse Records, Freeze Records and Terminator Records.
Out today (March 24), Terry’s latest — “I Give You Love” — is a collaboration with Estonian DJ/producer Janika Tenn and U.S. vocalist Lee Wilson. The bright-as-sunlight song finds the trio bringing warmth, emotion and a classic house feel that will no doubt land in Terry’s upcoming spring and summer dates, with his name on lineups for five festivals in the U.K. and Belgium this season.
Here, Terry talks about his affection for the U.K. scene, “sometimes” selling out and how — in this post-EDM era — the scene has “come back to being real house music.”
1. Where are you in the world right now, and what’s the setting like?
I’m in Estonia now and kinda snowed in at the moment, but it’s all good, nice place here to eat and chill. Then I’m off to London next, then back to New York to see family and play a gig at the Silo club in Brooklyn.
2. What is the first album or piece of music you bought for yourself, and what was the medium?
The first record I bought was James Brown‘s “Hot Butter Popcorn.” I couldn’t wait to bring it home and play it. The record player was in my sister’s room, so I had to wait till she left; it felt like it was forever, but it was fun to play it and dance around.
3. What did your parents do for a living when you were a kid, and what do or did they think of what you do for a living now?
My Mom would say, “Turn that music down.” I was like, “No, Ma, this is what’s gonna get us out of here.” My Mom didn’t realize that the record business was the way to go at the time. I wanted to do music for the love and for the business.
4. What’s the first non-gear thing you bought for yourself when you started making money as an artist?
The first thing I brought was a car. A car is always the best way to listen to your music besides the club, of course! I did finally get some Cerwin Vega speakers as well with my first check.
5. If you had to recommend one album for someone looking to get into dance/electronic music, what would you give them?
Kraftwerk was my favorite LP. I learned so much from that album — how to arrange and how to make different sounds to make people notice your music, and that you do not have to be a great singer to make a cool song.
6. What’s the last song you listened to?
The last record I checked out was Stevie Wonder‘s Songs in the Key of Life. It’s a true classic, forever and ever. This reminds me that I still got a long way to make great music. I hope one day I’ll get a chance to make that record with a really big giant label or team — a company that really gets it. I would hate to sound like everything that’s out there. This is the bad part of the business.
7. The word “legend” is associated with your name. When do you feel most legendary?
I feel as though I have to live up to that name as strongly as possible. The word “legend” means a lot to me, to keep going no matter what. I love the respect, so I have to give it my all to live up to it.
8. When you were helping develop the sound of house music in New York, did you have a sense of how massive the genre would become?
I got the sound of house music from Chicago. I sampled Chicago to create my style. I didn’t really know what I was doing; I just wanted to sound like them. Later I learned that I had sampled Marshall Jefferson, Kevin Saunderson, Tyree Cooper and Adonis. I didn’t know anything about this style, and I was learning it as I went. To find out that it was blowing up in London really opened my eyes to do more. Then it was everywhere in the world. Wow.
9. With house music now a global phenomenon and commercial force, what’s your take on the current scene?
It’s good that it came back to being real house music. I think EDM took us away from its soul on the dancefloor, but I still think we need more songs that represent the old-school feeling that got us here, like Ten City’s “That’s The Way Love Is,” Crystal Waters‘ “Gypsy Woman” and Lil Louis’ “Club Lonely,” these type songs are just the icing.
10. What’s the best city in the world for dance music currently?
London is the best city for me. The crowd always seems open to new sounds and funky music as well. I always have to break my new music on the dancefloor there. People dancing is the power to keep you going, and they definitely gave me the power to keep going in my career. House music forever is what we need in life. Thanks to London.
11. Do you have guilty pleasure music?
Old school funk is what I really like — such as James Brown, Quincy Jones, Gap Band, Funkadelic, and Chaka Khan. When rap music came out, that made it the next level for me: Eric B and Rakim, Big Daddy Kane, KRS-One and Nas.
12. Your latest release samples Steve Miller Band‘s “Fly Like an Eagle.” What was the appeal of working with this song, 47 years after its release?
This was a song I always wanted to rock. The infusion of warped sounds in the original made it interesting to me. I love weird s–t that makes you dance, so this is a track I always wanted to do a new version of in my style. Like what I did with reworking “Keep on Jumpin‘.”
13. Are there rising artists that you’re finding particularly exciting right now?
Janika Tenn, Majestic, DJ Kash. These emerging DJ/producer/artists are coming up with new styles for house music, dance and Afrobeats. They are the reason why I keep going. Sometimes you need a new vibe to inspire you to take a different look at things.
14. The most exciting thing happening in dance music currently is _____?
That the feel of the dancefloor is back. People are having a good time and not just standing around waiting for a drum roll to get hyped. We need to keep it feeling good.
15. The most annoying thing happening in dance music currently is _____?
That the major labels put out the worst dance records ever. I find myself selling out to them as well. I’m trying to stop taking the money to please them and please myself instead.
16. The biggest difference between making music in the ’80s and making music now is ____?
Computers! I think we are less creative because of them. We gotta bring our souls back to the table and add some live musicians.
17. The proudest moment of your career thus far?
That I don’t need to shop my music to other labels. I can do what I want and put out my music myself and [the music of] some other people I like on my own labels InHouse Records, Freeze Records, and Terminator Records.
18. What’s the best business decision you’ve ever made?
Getting rid of Zomba as my music publisher. They held me back at the beginning of my career. You gotta watch these people putting money in your face and not caring about you and your music.
19. Who was your greatest mentor, and what was the best advice they gave you?
My mentors, in the beginning, were Mark Finkelstein of Strictly Rhythm and my attorney Christopher Whent. They taught me to get my business right first. It’s hard to do sometimes; you just want to get your music out. You gotta take a step back and listen and get the business right first.
20. One piece of advice you’d give to your younger self?
To take my time. It’s not always good to rush, especially when it comes to the business side. I could have made a bunch more money if I got that right, but there is still time to make the money back. All those bastards that robbed me are dead, ha!
This March marks International Women’s Month, an annual observance established to recognize women for their inspiration and innumerable contributions to society.To mark the occasion, Honda pulled up to the Billboard Women In Music Awards in a fun, engaging way with a one-of-a-kind 2023 Honda CR-V Sport Hybrid to pose the question, “Who is a woman that drives and inspires you?” “Inside the vehicle, a confessional booth was set up for attendees to pay homage to the women in their lives who have mattered the most to them.
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While many took the opportunity to highlight celebrities and musicians they admired, others paid homage to the strong females of their familial units, with most giving praise to their very own mothers. Such was the case for artist and songwriter Victoria Monét.
With a daughter of her own, Monét is more than cognizant of the importance of having strong female role models to lift you up when you are down and to help you to keep on going and striving towards your goals. “When I think no one is watching, she is watching me,” Monét says of being a positive influence for her 2 year old daughter Hazel, adding “so it’s a 24/7 thing.”
This was also the case for singer and actress Coco Jones. “A woman who drives and inspires me… I’m going to have to say my mom,” says Jones, continuing, “if I can’t work and grind and pop off and shine like her, then I don’t know what I’m doing.”
As an entertainer who is constantly in the spotlight, Jones takes her position as a female role model more than seriously, saying it might even be her life’s purpose. Following in the image of her mother before her, Jones pledges to always “inspire the next group of young girls to be bold and courageous and unapologetically themselves.” While stating that her own road to stardom had its fair share of rocky moments, it was the inspiration of strong females like her mother that helped her to “know her why” so that she could maintain her purpose and intention behind everything she’s doing.
So, who is a woman that drives and inspires you?
In a northeastern suburb of Los Angeles, a devout Radio Disney fan played tween pop’s most successful songs on repeat — and then, queuing up her cassette player, she tried to create her own track that would outshine them.
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Balancing two separate Record buttons while the radio played, Nyla Hammond synchronized the tracks by artists like Vanessa Hudgens with the recording of her own vocals harmonizing along. With one take, she reduced Disney’s brightest stars to backup singers and unwittingly cut her first cover. At that moment, Nyla XO was born.
“I was a hacker,” the singer-songwriter remembers. “I found the way.”
Nearly two decades later, in a small trailer in southwest Hollywood, Nyla was 20 minutes away from performing another cover — though this time, the stakes were a lot higher. Established stars Tinashe, Eric Nam and Natti Natasha would be assessing her delivery. A voting audience would determine her artistic potential. Extended family would watch a livestream in Puerto Rico and beyond. The 32-year-old was one of three finalists in Samsung NXT 2.0, a nationwide competition to discover the next unsigned music superstar, and she was having a panic attack.
Nyla’s mother, a classically trained singer, was greeted at the trailer door by a face streaked with tears. “Sing a song you know like the back of your hand as many times as you can,” she advised her daughter. Together, they sang Corinne Bailey Rae’s “Put Your Records On” until Nyla began to breathe easier. “I hope you get your dreams,” the mother-daughter duo sang, over and over. “You’re going to find yourself somewhere, somehow.”
And she did: That night, Nyla XO was crowned the Samsung NXT 2.0 champion during a finale that was musically rousing and personally gratifying. “I have a saying: ‘If there’s anyone who can figure it out, it’s Nyla,’ ” says Henry McDaniel, her husband, business partner and producer, known professionally as H.A.N.K. “She doesn’t quit until she finds the answer to whatever it is she’s searching for.”
H.A.N.K knew that Nyla — a descendant of Puerto Rican immigrants who was named after the birthplace of her mother (New York) and her own (L.A.) — was destined for stardom long before the NXT competition. When the pair met at Musicians Institute in Hollywood in 2012, Nyla was already multidisciplined: a classical pianist-singer who was also a graphic artist-designer. Soon thereafter, she became a director-video editor. She left college in 2013 after accepting an opportunity from *NSYNC star JC Chasez to join the lineup of an in-the-works girl group. But when the act disbanded a year later, Nyla began searching for musical work and fielding a slew of requests as a keyboardist.
In 2016, she performed in the house band of America’s Got Talent, and her hands plinked across the big screen as Nina Simone in the Zoe Saldana-starring biopic Nina; the following year, she hit the road on Betty Who’s Party in the Valley Tour. Nyla committed to finally pursuing an artistic career full time in 2018, and with the newfound freedom to indulge her creative impulses, her technical prowess took center stage.
“I call her ‘the DIY queen,’ ” H.A.N.K says. “I have watched her make full-blown music videos with a camera and piece of cloth where the result will give you the impression she spent thousands. I have seen her living room photo shoots turn into some of the most beautiful album artwork that I’ve seen. Even today, I rank the quality of my content on the scale of, ‘Would Nyla approve?’ ”
To that point, Nyla recalls the one request she had for her 16th birthday: to record a song, for real this time. Writing poetry as a reprieve in between hours dedicated to classical piano, she decided to try her hand at composing music, so she booked studio time, designed album artwork on Microsoft Word and distributed her debut single as a party favor to her classmates at her sweet 16 party. “For Who I Am,” a heartfelt coming-of-age track, was visually represented with a Clipart icon of a pink handprint.
“This is who I’ve always been,” she says with a laugh. “When I have the vision, I want to see it through.”
Nyla XO photographed using a Samsung Galaxy Z Flip4 on February 17, 2023 at El Rey Theatre in Los Angeles.
Christopher Patey
As comical as the earnestness of “For Who I Am” now seems to Nyla, the song hinted at what would become her songwriting signature: unflinching vulnerability. She’ll willingly divulge her darkest moments as a means of connection, lyrically disrobing to reveal depression or plaguing self-doubt. During the pandemic, she personally reached out to each new Instagram follower to thank them for their support, often receiving perspective-shifting feedback about her artistry in exchange. While performing her original song “Perfect View,” a genre-blurring love letter to her symbiotic relationship with her husband, Nyla paused and addressed the audience at the NXT finale. “Let’s get intimate,” she said.
“For me, music is a conversation,” she explains. “Saying, ‘Flaws and all, here I am.’ It does not matter how big I get. I always want to maintain some kind of relationship with people. That’s a core value for me.”
“Lyrically, she has always had this innate ability to paint vivid pictures through her musical storytelling, and the pictures have only become more and more clear,” adds H.A.N.K. “You feel as though you were there alongside her when she wrote the song.”
With a penchant for sonic spontaneity, Nyla is reluctant to define her sound. At one point, she says, it was “Popsical” — a pop-classical amalgam. Now each original track is more of a melting pot; jazz, R&B and bubble-gum hyper-pop are all anchoring ingredients, but at any given moment, she might sprinkle in an octave-spanning vocal run or melodic rap. “Perfect View” was the result of significant “trial and error,” says H.A.N.K, resulting in a 28-hour session in the lead-up to the NXT finale. “I wouldn’t say ‘obsessive,’ but it’s borderline,” he quips.
But such perfectionism often comes at a personal cost. For Nyla, that was heightened pressure — and a perception that it could possibly all be for nothing.
“There are so many different pathways to success that it can be overwhelming,” she says. “I’ve always loved creating, but you reach a point of, ‘Is all this in vain? Does any of this actually matter? Am I supposed to be releasing more music or do more live shows?’ It can feel discouraging to feel like no one is seeing the work you’re putting in.”
After five years of drip feeding her artistic persona, NXT forced Nyla to open the floodgates. With the defined parameters of each challenge — from 10-part a cappella covers with heavenly harmonies to self-styled and -edited music videos, all using the Samsung Galaxy Z Flip4 — serving as springboards, Nyla delivered a masterclass in capturing the attention of social media users in 60 seconds or less. Her online presence became synonymous with scroll-stopping content: “I Iike this version of the song so much better!!” reads a top comment on Nyla’s performance of BTS’ “Butter.”
In the weeks leading up to the NXT finale, Nyla often visualized being named as the winner; the concept was so all-consuming, she says she would “tear up” at the thought. However, days prior to flying to Atlanta to meet her assigned artist mentor, rising Alabama rapper Flo Milli, Nyla’s grandmother died. She had been a beloved high school math teacher in Pasadena, Calif., until she was 89 and watched 26 former students become teachers themselves. Consequently, Nyla eschewed the questions she might once have had about Flo Milli’s inspirations or the industry and instead asked her if she had considered her legacy.
“We talked about how all this is great, but it can’t be what defines me as a person,” Nyla says. “My legacy will be the things I say and the music I create, the person that I am — that’s what’s going to matter the most.”
Hearing her name called as the winner of the competition, Nyla felt a sense of solace: that all those many late nights were not in vain, that her sound resonated in spite of all of the sonic experimentation and that the aspiring singer-songwriter — patiently waiting for the perfect beat before hitting Record all those years ago — had realized her dream on her terms. She knew that somewhere, another little girl would be singing over the radio, and maybe someday sooner than later, the song playing would be from Nyla XO.
“I feel relieved,” Nyla says of her win. “But mostly, I feel seen.”
Kx5, presented by Carnival, will perform at Billboard Presents The Stage at SXSW, on March 18.
The show was going so well. An hour into the set from Kx5 — the electronic music supergroup of genre leaders Kaskade and deadmau5 — it was, as intended, a dazzling feat of light, sound, video and the emotional punch of those elements combined. Then the power went out, and Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum — and the 46,000 fans assembled there on that drizzly night in December — were thrust into silent darkness.
From the front of the house, deadmau5’s longtime manager, Dean Wilson, sprinted backstage — where, he says, he found “everybody running around like headless chickens, screaming, ‘Generator’s on fire!’ ”
The generator was not supposed to be on fire. However, it had turned itself off due to overheating and was emanating smoke. Its programming had then instructed three backup generators to also shut down to avoid igniting the 17,000 gallons of diesel fuel inside. Frantic staffers worked to salvage what had been billed as a landmark live performance — one that cost “almost seven figures to design and over seven figures to execute,” says Kaskade’s manager, Ryan Henderson.
Success seemed unlikely. “When you have a major failure like that, normally something then doesn’t work,” Wilson says. “Something’s not rebooted properly. Some configuration can’t restart because it has crashed so badly.” But when deadmau5 hit the button that would, in theory, restart the show, restart it did. The performance, co-produced by Live Nation affiliate and powerhouse electronic music promoter Insomniac Events alongside both artists’ teams, set a record for the biggest ticketed global headliner dance event of 2022.
“I’ve been working in the electronic/dance space since the early ’90s,” says UTA’s Kevin Gimble, who represents deadmau5, Kaskade and Kx5. “I have been fortunate to have a lot of incredible moments throughout my career. However, nothing — and I mean nothing — can compare to the emotions that were stirred within me seeing [nearly] 50,000 people inside that building singing ‘I Remember’ in unison. Pure f–king magic.”
As Kx5, deadmau5 and Kaskade have formalized a collaborative relationship that began with the aforementioned moody 2008 classic — one of EDM’s first defining tracks, the penultimate song played during the L.A. Coliseum performance and, in dance parlance, an all-time banger. In 2009, they released a follow-up single, “Move for Me.” Now, 14 years later, they are leveling up the partnership with the March 17 arrival of Kx5’s eponymous debut album, which is being released on deadmau5’s independent label, mau5trap Recordings.
The show wasn’t just a full-circle moment for Kx5: It was one for dance music itself. In June 2010, deadmau5 and Kaskade, playing separately, were among the last electronic artists to perform at the L.A. Coliseum during what would be the final Los Angeles iteration of Electric Daisy Carnival. Produced by Insomniac and featuring then-rising acts like Avicii and Swedish House Mafia, the festival created a maelstrom of headlines (and lawsuits) when a 15-year-old girl who had snuck into the event died after overdosing on MDMA. In the aftermath, Los Angeles sent EDC packing to Las Vegas, and the venue became a no-fly zone for electronic music — and, aside from a handful of shows throughout the 2010s, most other genres, too — even as EDM was becoming a major commercial force in the United States.
“We’d heard rumors they were going to start doing more shows at the Coliseum, and I was like, ‘Wouldn’t it be amazing if we were the first electronic act to do a show back in that venue?’ ” Wilson recalls. “We were absolutely the test case.”
“Kaskade kind of straddles the line between electronic and pop music,” says Henderson of why promoters book the producer in venues where dance music might be otherwise verboten. “People don’t associate him with rave culture as much as you’d think.”
On Kaskade (left): Dior jacket and sneakers, Mouty pants, Oscar & Frank eyewear. On deadmau5: Amiri jacket, pants, and sneakers.
Austin Hargrave
With the December show filed as a win, deadmau5 and Kaskade symbolically marked a decade-plus run during which they became two of the genre’s most successful artists. Alongside peers like Swedish House Mafia, Avicii, Calvin Harris and Skrillex, they helped create the superstar DJ template of Vegas residencies, arena shows, festival headlining and massive paychecks. To date, Kaskade’s catalog has aggregated 736 million U.S. streams, according to Luminate, and deadmau5’s has clocked 1.5 billion.
They remain two of the scene’s most elite acts, having influenced a generation of fans and artists alike. John Summit, the 28-year-old dance phenom who opened the Coliseum show, told Wilson that deadmau5’s “Ghosts ‘n’ Stuff” was the reason he started making music. (Later in 2023, Summit will release the first official remix of “I Remember.”)
But while Kx5’s out-of-the-gate success was made possible by each artist’s individual popularity and the near mythological status of their previous collaborative output, the project is more about their own enjoyment than the new creative directions some of their peers have followed as their careers have progressed.
“It was literally a product of us saying, ‘F–k it,’ ” says deadmau5, born Joel Zimmerman, in his pronounced Canadian accent. “I’m not saying we don’t love it, but we don’t need it, financially speaking. It’s just something we want.”
On this Monday afternoon in Los Angeles, deadmau5, who’s based in Toronto, sits alongside Chicago native Kaskade (real name: Ryan Raddon), who is now based in L.A. Deadmau5 makes infrequent eye contact and uses a variation of “f–k” upwards of 40 times during the 45-minute conversation. “Dude” is the interjection of choice for Kaskade, who wears reflective-lensed sunglasses.
As they tell it, Kx5 (pronounced “kay five”; the “x” is silent) is essentially the result of friendship meeting market demand and pandemic downtime. Crowds would still “freak out” when Kaskade dropped “I Remember” in his sets and, he says, “every time I’d see Joel at a festival, I’d be like, ‘Man, we should probably do something together.’ He’d be like, ‘Yeah, we probably should.’ ”
When live events paused, Kaskade called him to make it official, saying, “OK, seriously, I don’t have anything to do. Let’s do something.” They started emailing productions back and forth, with tracks taking shape as the pandemic wore on.
Kaskade photographed on February 6, 2023 in Los Angeles. Givenchy sweater.
Austin Hargrave
Kx5 soft-launched in July 2021 during Kaskade’s headlining set at SoFi Stadium in Inglewood, Calif. Produced by Insomniac and marking the first public concert at the new venue, the show sold 27,000 tickets and grossed $2.6 million, according to Billboard Boxscore. It also featured a surprise opening set from deadmau5, who returned later to play “I Remember” alongside Kaskade. (They didn’t play any Kx5 music, nor did deadmau5 don the plastic mouse helmet he has long worn during solo performances.)
Shortly after the SoFi show, UTA’s Gimble began conversations with Insomniac and Live Nation about a Kx5 play at the Coliseum. Nearly six months later, on Jan. 3, 2022, deadmau5, Kaskade and their managers met in L.A. to strategize Kx5. Discussions around the artists doing something official together had started ahead of the pandemic, when they were offered a back-to-back set at HARD Summer 2020. When that show was canceled amid lockdowns, HARD promoter Insomniac shifted the offer to EDC 2022, where Kaskade and deadmau5 decided to debut the Kx5 live show. But they still needed a lead single.
Wilson, who has managed deadmau5 since the artist launched that persona in 2006, had been sitting on a top-line demo of a song called “Escape” from U.K. songwriters Camden Cox, Will Clarke and Eddie Jenkins. Deadmau5 had been tinkering with the demo’s production but was concerned, Wilson says, that it didn’t sound “new enough” compared with his more recent output.
Nonetheless, at the January 2022 meeting in L.A., Wilson told Kaskade they had a track that might work as Kx5’s first release. “Joel looks at me like, ‘What?’ ” Wilson says. “And I play ‘Escape,’ and Ryan goes, ‘We’ve got to do that.’ ”
Deadmau5 sent parts of the song to Kaskade, who soon completed it. (“Let’s make it radio-ey,” says deadmau5 of their goal for it. “Let’s make it ‘I Remember’-ey. Strip it back, keep some of that early-2000s vibe to it.”) Released in March 2022 — three months before the debut Kx5 performance at EDC — critics and fans hailed “Escape” as a triumphant return to form, a fresh take on the dreamy, sexy yet melancholy slowburn style the duo had forged with “I Remember.”
“Escape” has garnered 47.7 million official U.S. on-demand streams. And by the time the song (featuring British singer Hayla) hit No. 1 on Billboard’s Dance Mix Show/Airplay chart in April 2022, Kaskade and deadmau5’s idea for a Kx5 EP had expanded into plans for an album. “Don’t threaten us with a good time,” the latter jokes about the project’s growth. Kaskade laughs.
In July 2022, Kaskade joined deadmau5 at his home studio in Toronto. “It ended up being a lot of hanging out, wake-surfing, chilling and talking about music,” recalls Kaskade. “We had a songwriting session that went until, like, four in the morning. I couldn’t stay up anymore.”
While they keep different hours, they agree that working together is a more streamlined process than when they record individually. “The benefit of doing it together is you get to bounce ideas off somebody else,” Kaskade says. “Usually when you’re in your own space, it’s like, ‘I think this is the end?’ With somebody else in the mix, I send it over to Joel. Like, ‘I think it’s done. What do you think?’ ” Working together, they agree, also eliminates expectations among their fans. “They don’t know what to think,” says Kaskade. “They’re like, ‘Let’s see what this is about.’ ” The resulting 10-track album is simultaneously sophisticated and tough, featuring complex and inventive progressive house productions that pulse and glow. Lyrics — largely about love and the loss of it — ride achingly pretty, often haunting melodies.
“Ryan excels as a songwriter and in arrangement and structure, where I suppose I excel in mastering, engineering and the more technical components of sound versus the idea,” deadmau5 says. “He’s got his wheelhouse, I’ve got mine, and we don’t overlap a lot. Like, I would sooner shoot myself in the leg before I’m like, ‘Here, Ryan, master this.’ ”
deadmau5 photographed on February 6, 2023 in Los Angeles. Amiri jacket.
Austin Hargrave
Their differences run deeper than their production strengths. While deadmau5 has been known to stay awake for three days straight making music, Kaskade appears to sleep regularly. Deadmau5 smokes cigarettes; Kaskade does not. Deadmau5 drinks Corona. Kaskade, a practicing Mormon, is sober. He remarks that it’s surreal to be doing an interview for the cover of Billboard. Deadmau5 announces he would rather be at home playing video games.
“I call them the odd couple,” says Wilson. “They’re yin and yang, chalk and cheese, completely different ends of the spectrum, but they ultimately have a respect for each other as producers.” And respect from deadmau5 is rare: In EDM’s heyday, he used Twitter to insult everyone from Justin Bieber (“little f–king d-ckhead”) to Disney, which in 2014 sued him over the similarities between his “mau5head” and its Mickey Mouse logo. (“Disney thinks you might confuse an established electronic musician/ performer with a cartoon mouse. That’s how stupid they think you are.”) In 2015, he published a Tumblr post about dealing with depression exacerbated by social media; his team now runs his accounts.
Deadmau5’s prickly (if, by now, predictable) nature makes his creative, and personal, alchemy with Kaskade all the more remarkable. “Joel doesn’t … he has very, very few relationships like that,” Wilson continues. “Joel’s a self-contained machine. His studio is in the middle of the house. He works predominantly on his own. He doesn’t do massive collaborations on a regular basis. But I think he likes Kx5 because it’s so different than it being all about the mouse head. There’s pressure in that, but with the two of them, you can see Joel go, ‘This is a bit of fun.’ It’s much more of the relaxed, funny Joel because he’s got a sparring partner, a foil, someone he can joke with. You can’t do that if you’re doing it on your own.”
The fact remains that Kx5 has an expiration date. The pair is scheduled to play just five more shows beyond South by Southwest, all U.S. festival sets, starting at Miami’s Ultra Music Festival in late March and ending in September at a currently unannounced East Coast event. (Although “nobody’s closing the door on what this could be in the future,” Henderson says. “There’s something special here.”)
“We can show up and crush a big event, but I’m not going to f–king hammer it until we’re both over it,” says deadmau5. “I don’t want to be f–king Siegfried & Roy over here doing 20 shows a night in f–king Vegas. We’ll just do some nice, big, iconic-looking plays, then f–king Ryan’s off Kaskade-ing and deadmau5 is out deadmau5-ing.”
Indeed, as EDM elder statesmen (relatively: Kaskade is 51, and deadmau5 is 42), they can do a one-off super pairing without relying on it for relevancy or income. (That said, the impact of Kx5 “feeds residual revenue streams” like streaming numbers and solo plays for each individual artist, Henderson says, adding that Kaskade just signed a three-year, eight-figure Vegas residency deal. “I’m not saying the Kx5 brand contributed to that,” Henderson adds, “but it definitely didn’t hurt it.”)
Kaskade (left) and deadmau5 of Kx5 photographed on February 6, 2023 in Los Angeles. On Kaskade: Louis Vuitton jacket. On deadmau5: Amiri jacket.
Austin Hargrave
But having come up, says deadmau5, “right at the turning point” when EDM was the world’s most lucrative genre, his and Kaskade’s brands are now foundational to the music’s culture, and their businesses extend well beyond streaming. “The money is in ancillary goods,” deadmau5 says. “Tangible items [like merchandise], appearances, shows, production.” He adds, “I don’t think I’m going to be f–king donning a mau5head in my 50s,” noting he may shift into managing mau5trap acts as he gets older and tours less.
But since they broke through in the EDM golden age, paths to success in the wider industry have become more difficult, making it harder for both emerging and established artists to score crossover hits. By the time Kx5 drops, eight of its singles will already be out because, says Wilson, digital service providers would only support two tracks if they were all released at once — and thus no one would hear most of the music. While deadmau5 has over 10 million fans across Instagram and Facebook, Wilson says the algorithms won’t allow communication with most of them. He also says that despite the success of “Escape” on dance radio and the $300,000 put behind its campaign — “We spent hundreds of thousands working that record. Who else has got that kind of money?” he asks — they couldn’t get the song on Spotify’s Today’s Top Hits playlist. “You break down those playlists, and they’re all predominantly major-owned acts,” says Wilson, who co-founded mau5trap with deadmau5 in 2007. “It’s a closed shop.”
Still, the strength of deadmau5 and Kaskade’s respective brands reduces the need for Kx5 to generate revenue. “They’re definitely investing more than they’re making,” Henderson says. “This whole project is for the fans. This isn’t getting these guys together, throwing them on a stage, exploiting their legacy and bringing in a bunch of money. It’s about making something special for their fans. They 100% sacrifice income to play together.”
Kaskade concedes that since corporate interests entered the mix during the EDM boom, the scene has become “more predictable” — or, as deadmau5 puts it, now “it’s all a bunch of little douche nozzles that know the trends, and how this is going to work, and you have to do it like this, and it homogenizes it all to sh-t.” The optimist of the duo, Kaskade believes there will always be an underground and the unpredictable music it fosters, but “just not like it was 20 years ago or 10 years ago, when the majors got involved.”
But while Wilson says EDM is often treated as the “poor relative” among other more visible genres in the wider industry, it remains “a great multibillion-dollar business with very successful festivals and a fan base that is very deep and that buys our tickets.”
“Is it commercially viable in terms of pop album sales? F–k no,” says deadmau5. “Is it commercially viable? Hell yeah. If it wasn’t, we wouldn’t be doing this. I’d be your stock boy at Bed Bath & Beyond.”
In the end, the L.A. Coliseum show earned $3.7 million. Kx5 didn’t have to cover the cost of a new generator.
Penske Media Corp. is the largest shareholder of SXSW; its brands are official media partners of SXSW.
This story will appear in the March 11, 2023, issue of Billboard.