WHO-CARES ABOUT SOME FUN

This mix was made for a very simple reason:

I didn’t have much else to do.

Somewhere along the way I stumbled upon an intro about Japie Krekel, with a bit of music attached to it, and thought: “Alright… let’s see what I can make out of this.” One thing led to another. A beat here, a sample there, a scratch somewhere in between,  and before I knew it, I had actually built something.

There was no masterplan. No deep thinking. No spreadsheets.

Just experimenting, messing around, and letting the mix slowly grow on its own.

So don’t overthink it either.

Just sit back and enjoy,  both the video and the mix.

Because sometimes the best mixes don’t start with a concept…

They start with boredom and a good idea

WHO-CARES ABOUT ONE MINUTE

Somewhere between 2013 and 2016, I started a series of one-minute mixes on Instagram.

Why one minute? Simple. Back then, Instagram wouldn’t let you upload anything longer. One minute. No more. No mercy.

It all started with hip-hop mixes, mostly old school — heavy on scratching, samples, and edits. Short, sharp, and straight to the point. Over time, though, the requests started coming in. First via Instagram, then through other social media as well: R&B, dance, pop… apparently people wanted more than just boom-bap and scratches.

Eventually, I’ll admit it — I was kind of done with it. One minute can feel very short when you’re in the zone. 

This time, the idea is to bring it back on TikTok. From what I understand, three minutes is the limit there, so I’m aiming for mixes somewhere between 1 and 3 minutes. Still short. Still fast. Still packed.

So if you’ve got requests, styles, vibes, decades, feel free to let me know via the mail button at the bottom of this page.

Short mixes. 

No filler. Because sometimes a few minutes is all you need.

WHO-CARES ABOUT ONE MINUTE

Why one minute?

Because that’s all Instagram allowed back then.

One minute. Period. No extensions, no negotiations, no mercy.

It started with old-school hip-hop, heavy scratches, dirty samples, quick edits. Short. Sharp. Straight to the point. But as time went on, the requests kept coming in. First on Instagram, then everywhere else: R&B, dance, pop… apparently not everyone lives on boom-bap alone.

Eventually, I’ll be honest, I was done.

One minute is painfully short when you’re locked in and everything’s clicking.

And yet… here we are.

The itch came back. Again.

This time I’m bringing it to TikTok. From what I hear, three minutes is the max, so I’m aiming for mixes between 1 and 3 minutes. Still short. Still fast. Still zero filler.

Got requests? Styles? Decades? Guilty pleasures?

Hit the mail button at the bottom of this page and let’s see what happens.

Short mixes. No bullshit.

Because sometimes a few minutes is all you get. so they’d better hit hard

WHO-CARES ABOUT ONE MINUTE

Time limit: one minute.

Not by choice, by law.

Back then, Instagram drew the line. One minute only. No edits after the fact. No excuses.

These mixes were built fast and dirty. Old-school hip-hop at the core, heavy scratches, raw samples, tight edits. No long intros, no fade-outs. If it didn’t hit immediately, it didn’t make the cut.

As the series grew, so did the requests. R&B. Dance. Pop.

Different tempos, different crowds, same rules. Keep it short. Keep it moving.

After a while, the needle lifted. One minute can feel cruel when the groove is locked and the mix is alive.

Fast forward. The itch returned.

This chapter moves to TikTok.

New format. Slightly more space. Three minutes max.

Expect mixes between one and three minutes, compact, high-energy, zero filler.

Requests welcome. Styles, decades, guilty pleasures included.

Use the mail button at the bottom of this page.

Short-form mixing. No safety nets.

Because when time is limited, every second has to earn its place

WHO-CARES ABOUT ONE MINUTE

Sixty seconds. Not a limit, a threat.

Back then, Instagram decided how long a thought was allowed to live. One minute to speak. One minute to cut through the noise. After that, silence.

So I learned to talk fast.

Old-school hip-hop in my hands. Scratches like punctuation.

Samples pulled from places they didn’t belong. Edits tight enough to leave scars. No intros. No exits. If it didn’t hit on the first breath, it didn’t exist.

Then the voices came. Different tempos. Different needs.

R&B calling from one side. Dance and pop from another.

Same clock. Same pressure. Move or vanish.

At some point, I stopped. Because one minute is cruel

when the groove finally locks in and the mix starts telling the truth.

Time passed. Quiet got uncomfortable. The itch never left,  it just waited. Now the format shifts.

This chapter lands on TikTok. Still short-form. Still unforgiving. Three minutes max.

Enough space to breathe. not enough to relax.

Expect mixes between one and three minutes. Condensed. Focused. No padding. Every sound there for a reason. Every second earning its stay.

Got requests? Styles. Eras. Tracks you don’t admit you love?

Mail button’s waiting!!

WHO-CARES ABOUT ONE MINUTE

The clock didn’t tick. It cut. Sixty seconds.

That was the rule. That was the cage. Instagram didn’t care about craft or culture. You had one minute to say something, or shut up. No rewinds. No mercy.

So the mixes came out hungry. Old-school hip-hop in the bones. Scratches sharp enough to scar. Samples chopped, flipped, repurposed. Edits made under pressure. No intros. No exits. If it didn’t slap immediately, it didn’t survive.

Then the noise came in. Requests. Demands. R&B. Dance. Pop. Different crowds, same rule: move fast or disappear.

Eventually, I walked away. Because one minute is disrespectful when the groove locks and the mix starts breathing. Time passed. Silence got loud. The itch came back harder.

New ground now.

This chapter lives on TikTok. Still short. Still dangerous. Three minutes max. Expect 1–3 minute mixes, compact, aggressive, no wasted seconds.

Got ideas? Eras? Sounds you shouldn’t like but do?

Mail button’s there. Use it.

No safety nets. No comfort.

Just short-form mixing where every second has to earn its life.

WHO-CARES ABOUT THE MIXCONTEST ANNOUNCEMENT 2022

This is the moment. The day in 2022 I always knew would come, sooner or later.

The day I went live on air during RMXD, broadcast on Radio Stad Den Haag. The day I heard, live on the radio, that I had won the RMXD DJ Contest 2022.

The assignment was clear, and not for the faint-hearted:

create a 10-minute megamix using tracks from the label Iventi Da Azurro. Pure Italo-era material.

DJs from all corners of the planet took part. Different styles. Different approaches. I chose my lane.

A mix packed with samples, edits, scratches, and effects, built for momentum, tension, and surprise. My main source of inspiration? The legendary Italo megamix series MAXMIX, fast, fearless, and unapologetically over the top.

So I’d say: listen to the fragment. Take it in. Enjoy it.

Not for yourself, but if nothing else… do it for me.

One last thing:

the announcement and the jury report are in Dutch,  exactly as it happened, live on air.

WHO-CARES ABOUT THE MIXCONTEST INTERVIEW 2022

This is the day after the win. The noise has settled.

The message has landed.

This is the moment I go live on air, sitting across from DJ Marcello, on Radio Stad Den Haag.

Not to prove anything. Not to compete. But to talk.

To look back at what just happened.

The RMXD DJ Contest 2022 is behind me now.

The title already announced. The moment already gone.

What’s left is the story.

A ten-minute megamix. Built from the Italo era.

Pulled from the catalogue of Iventi Da Azurro. DJs from every corner of the world took their shot.

And I chose a different language. Samples instead of safety.

Edits instead of comfort. Scratches, effects, tension.

Letting the mix move fast, inspired by the energy and fearlessness of MAXMIX.

Now I’m here. Talking about it. Hearing my own journey reflected back through the speakers.

The announcement is in Dutch. But the feeling doesn’t need translation. And thanks to Marcello, the words find their way into English, live, in the moment, just like the mix once did.

So listen to the fragment. Listen to the interview.

Listen to the pauses between the answers.

Don’t do it for yourself. Do it for the kid who kept cutting, sampling, and believing

that one day… the microphone would turn on. And it did.

WHO CARES ABOUT ONE MINUTE

I live in the club mix zone, thinking in BPM windows, energy curves, key mixing and phrase alignment, with beat grids locked tight and cue points mapped for pressure moments, not practice runs.

Short formats don’t limit the mix, they force discipline, every transition has to land on phrase, every drop has to justify its space, no eight-bar autopilot blends, no cruising.

These mixes are built with club logic, tempo-matched, harmonically clean, keys shifting with intent, energy rising without killing the floor, even when the clock is ruthless.

Effects chains are functional, filters to create tension, delays to reset momentum, reverbs to open space before the cut, everything timed to the groove, nothing wasted.

This workflow started on Instagram, where short-form meant instant judgment, and now lives on TikTok, with one to three minutes to build, peak, and exit clean.

Transitions are fast but controlled, drops are intentional, gain staging stays tight, low end stays solid, mids cut through, highs stay sharp without tearing heads off.

Visuals move like a club light show, cuts on the kick, edits on the snare, drops synced to impact moments, sound and image locked like decks and mixer.

This isn’t background content, this is club-ready performance mixing, stripped down, efficient, engineered to move bodies even in short form.

No safety nets, no sync-sleepwalking, just keys, grids, timing and instinct, where every second earns its place on the floor.

WHO CARES ABOUT ONE MINUTE

I make DJ mixes and video mixes because it’s fun, because locking a beat grid feels good, because finding the right key change at the right moment still gives that little rush.

Short formats don’t kill creativity, they speed it up, faster decisions, quicker builds, sharper drops, and that moment where everything clicks and you just smile behind the screens.

I love building these mixes, setting BPM ranges, testing harmonic blends, dialing in effects chains, flipping between filters, delays and rolls, not to show off, but to feel the groove come together.

Old-school technique keeps it playful, scratches, cuts, quick edits, while modern club logic keeps it moving, tight phrasing, clean transitions, energy always pointing forward.

This process started on Instagram, where short-form mixing became a playground, and now continues on TikTok, with one to three minutes to experiment, break things, fix them, and make them hit.

The video side is half the fun, cutting on snares, dropping visuals on the beat, syncing builds with risers, finding that one frame that makes the drop land harder.

Audio and visuals feed each other, one idea sparks the next, until the mix feels alive, not just correct.

This is club-minded mixing with a playful mindset, technical control without stiffness, pressure without stress.

No autopilot, no formulas, just enjoying the craft, the sound, the visuals, and that moment when you hit play and think, yeah… this works.

WHO CARES ABOUT ONE MINUTE

I live for DJ mixes, I breathe video mixes, cuts, scratches and edits locked together frame by frame and beat by beat, where sound and visuals move as one.

One minute once felt like a cage, but pressure sharpens focus and turns limitations into fuel, forcing every second to work harder and hit stronger.

These mixes are built fast and mixed with intent, old-school energy at the core combined with a modern, precise execution, no long intros, no lazy fade-outs, because if it doesn’t connect instantly it simply doesn’t belong.

What started on Instagram as short-form chaos now continues on TikTok, still compact, still intense, but with just enough room to let the mix breathe.

Expect mixes between one and three minutes, fully focused, tightly edited, where sound and image are inseparable and every cut has a purpose.

This is not background music, this is music that demands attention, DJ mixing with a video editor’s mindset and video mixing driven by a DJ’s heartbeat.

No safety nets, no shortcuts, just passion, timing and the cut, where every second has to earn its place.

If you feel it, you feel it, and if you don’t, that’s fine too, keep scrolling.

WHO CARES ABOUT ONE MINUTE

I live for DJ mixes and video mixes, thinking in BPM, phrasing, cue points, cuts, scratches, edits, transitions and visual timing that has to lock perfectly with the beat.

One minute once felt like a hard limitation, but constraints sharpen decision-making, forcing every bar, every drop, every transition to serve a clear purpose.

These mixes are built fast but precise, structured around tight phrasing, quick tempo alignment, aggressive cue juggling and edits that leave no room for hesitation.

Old-school technique sits at the core, scratching, sampling and rapid-fire edits, combined with a modern approach to flow, pacing and visual rhythm, where sound and image are treated as one system.

This approach started on Instagram, where short-form mixing meant instant impact or instant failure, and now continues on TikTok, with mixes running between one and three minutes, still compact, still intense, still unforgiving.

Every mix is designed for maximum efficiency, fast intros, immediate engagement, clean transitions, controlled chaos, no dead air and no unnecessary seconds.

This is not background music and it’s not passive viewing, it’s short-form performance mixing, engineered for attention, momentum and replay value.

DJ mixing executed with a video editor’s precision, video mixing driven by a DJ’s sense of timing and groove.

No safety nets, no filler, just technique, focus and execution, where every second has to earn its place

WHO CARES ABOUT ONE MINUTE

 I build DJ mixes and video mixes in the studio by thinking in systems, BPM windows mapped out first, beat grids checked and corrected, keys analyzed so harmonic mixing stays clean even when the energy shifts fast.

Short formats force efficiency, which I actually enjoy, fewer bars means faster decisions, tighter phrasing, and constant micro-adjustments to keep momentum high without overloading the mix.

A lot of time goes into preparation, setting cue points for cuts and drops, planning energy curves, testing key changes, and building effects chains that work musically instead of randomly, filters for movement, delays for space, rolls for controlled tension.

The fun is in the tweaking, nudging grids, adjusting EQ curves, rebalancing levels after every edit, then running it back to see if the groove still holds when everything is compressed into a short time frame.

Old-school techniques like scratching and fast cuts stay part of the process, but they’re placed deliberately inside a modern structure where timing, phrasing and flow matter more than showing tricks.

This workflow started on Instagram, where one minute meant every mistake was obvious, and it continues on TikTok, with one to three minutes to refine ideas without losing urgency.

The video side runs in parallel, aligning visual cuts with transient hits, matching edits to drops, syncing risers and builds, and checking frame timing so audio and visuals feel locked, not layered.

It’s a constant back-and-forth between listening, watching, adjusting and re-rendering until the mix feels tight, balanced and alive.

No shortcuts, no presets doing the thinking for me, just process, repetition and attention to detail, where every second is built, checked and earned.

WHO CARES ABOUT ONE MINUTE

When I’m building a DJ mix or a video mix, it starts in the studio with structure, not chaos. BPM ranges get defined early, beat grids are checked manually, nudged where needed, and only trusted once everything actually locks instead of just looking right.

Key information is a guide, not a rule, but I still map it out so harmonic changes feel natural when the mix moves fast. Short formats mean there’s no hiding, so every transition needs to make sense both musically and energetically.

Controllers are mapped for speed and muscle memory. Hot cues for cuts and drops, pads assigned for quick rolls and stabs, knobs reserved for filters and delays that I know won’t overload the mix. Nothing fancy, just layouts that let ideas happen without thinking too much.

Effects chains are kept lean and purposeful. EQ first, always. Filters to shape movement, delays to create space without washing things out, and rolls to build tension without killing the groove. If an effect doesn’t add something rhythmically or emotionally, it’s gone.

I’ll run the mix over and over, making small adjustments, trimming bars, tightening phrasing, checking levels after every edit, because short mixes exaggerate mistakes and reward precision.

The video side lives alongside the audio, not after it. Visual cuts are planned around transients, edits line up with drops, builds sync with risers, and frame timing gets checked so sound and image feel connected, not glued together later.

What started years ago on Instagram, where one minute forced brutal efficiency, now continues on TikTok, with one to three minutes to refine the same mindset without losing urgency.

Exporting is the final discipline. Clean levels, controlled dynamics, no last-minute hype tricks. Audio and video rendered to match, checked on headphones, monitors, phone speakers, and small screens, because that’s where these mixes actually live.

It’s not about perfection, it’s about intention. Building something tight, playable, watchable, and fun, where every second exists for a reason and nothing is there by accident.