Justin Strauss “Dance music is a different animal than it was when I started out”
We met Justin Strauss at Little Roy Coffee (571 Greene Ave, Brooklyn, NY 11216), a coffee spot he suggested after being asked about his local fave. Funnily the little cafe is just five blocks down from the kaput New York headquarters.
As the weather is super nice we decide to rather chill outside for the talk, also that way we ain´t disturb the other guests with our nerd talks.
We obviously talk deep about his three decade long artistic biography, his relationship with New York, and also his two current projects Each Other (with Max Pask) and Extra Credit (with Joe Goddard of Hot Chip and Marcus Marr).
The conversation went on for like an hour and is just slightly edited (but not much shortened( to keep the beautiful rhythm of Strauss words alive and kicking.
Justin, how do you feel about the state of the music scene in New York in 2024?
Justin Strauss: I think it’s great. It’s an exciting time in New York right now—musically, club-wise, and especially in dance music. It’s something I haven’t felt since maybe the ’80s. There’s been an explosion of clubs in New York over the last couple of years, and it’s ongoing. It’s become a real scene here again. Not so much for live bands, but definitely for DJs and clubs.
I could basically play every weekend here and I pretty much do when I’m not traveling. There are parties everywhere, which is great.
You also feel that sound-wise it’s a very interesting time?
For sure, there are some great things happening now musically. People want to compare the world now with the world of the 1980s. There’s no comparison; it’s a different world. If you’re looking for it to be that way again, it’s never going to happen. So I don’t expect that.
I don’t think, “Oh, it was so much better back in the day, at the Tunnel or Limelight, Area or wherever .” It’s just a different time and different place. The scene now can splinter into different genres. You have your techno scene, house scene, and so on. I’d say it was a bit more integrated at one time, but feel that coming back, especially at some of the clubs I play at now. Dance music is a different animal than it was when I started out. Back then it was more of an “underground”scene. Now, it’s exploded; it’s everywhere. It’s the pop music of today. So it’s definitely a different animal. But within that, there are still great things.
If you do want to go to a techno club, you can go to Basement. For more variety or different vibes, you might choose Gabriela, Night Moves, Good Room, Public Records, or Nowadays. I think you can really find anything you want here.
And there are some DJs, like myself and some others, who play all kinds of music. We don’t stick to just one thing. It’s the way music connects that’s always excited me. To me, that’s the most fun—there’s too much good music out there.
Do you feel, as a selector, that you can play the same way in all the clubs you just mentioned?
I pretty much always think that if a club asks me to play there, they want me to do what I do. They don’t hire me to do something outside of that.
I’m going back to play at Panorama Bar at the end of October, and I haven’t been there since the pandemic, so I’m excited about that. The first time I played there, I was really nervous because I thought, “I don’t know what I should do.” I just had to talk to myself and say, “I’m just going to do what I do.” And they just kept booking me. It seemed to work and I was happy about that.
Like I said, I enjoy it all. I can play a wide variety of music within what I feel comfortable with and what I like. I don’t play music I don’t like.
Which would be horrible if you did.
Exactly. I don’t like to appease anyone or try to fit in. I think as a dj you of course have to be aware of your surroundings, and find the connection.
If you played what you thought you had to play, it would also feel forced.
It wouldn’t work. It would feel awkward and contrived, and not like me. That defeats the whole purpose. When I go out to hear other Dj’s, I want to be inspired and hear things I’ve never heard before.
Probably my favorite DJs are Optimo.
I love them too.
I’ve gotten to play a few sets played back-to-back with them; and we are good friends. Always inspiring and exciting.
When DJing became all about sticking to one lane, I got kind of bored and less excited about it. But then I started hearing Optimo, Soulwax, Trevor Jackson, and others from that DFA scene, where they incorporated so many different styles of music and connected them. That’s how I hear music.
All those styles have a connection. It’s how you put it together and tell the story that makes a great DJ, to me.
You just said, “that’s not me.” I’m curious about how the constant remodeling of “me” works for someone with such a long career as yours. You must have had times—like I know from writing—where you think, “Well, maybe this isn’t my perfect year,” because somehow the beat isn’t there, and “I’m not feeling it.”
It’s been an interesting ride. I have two daughters, and I took a lot of time off from DJing regularly when they were growing up. I was still doing remixes and productions and then later on I did work in my home studio because I wanted to be around for them. That was toward the middle of the ’90s into the 2000s, a time when I was kind of bored with what was happening and wasn’t out playing as much. I also was putting out records on Strictly Rhythm and other New York labels.
Then, when I heard stuff coming out from Optimo and all those people I mentioned, I got reinvigorated and wanted to get back into it. My kids were getting older, and I felt like it was a good time for me to jump back in.
Anyone who’s been in this business for a substantial amount of time knows or finds out there will be ups and downs. That’s just the nature of this job; it’s not going to be a smooth ride. It’s a roller coaster. It’s about how you hold on to that ride and how much you want it and how inspired you are to do it.
I still love what I do, and I feel super fortunate to still be doing it. It’s always super exciting to go into a club and play. There’s always that sense of, “Oh, what’s going to happen?” It’s the great unknown.
I don’t plan my DJ sets. Maybe have a few “first songs” in mind and then just go from there.
You don’t really play the same set twice like some of the younger DJs?
I fought getting Rekordbox for a long time because I didn’t want to know what I played or have the option to look back at it and think that worked the last time maybe I’ll do it again. But I eventually got Recordbox , and it’s a great tool to have and I love it.
Those tools can be helpful for DJs because if you’re in front of a crowd that doesn’t know you or you’re trying to figure things out, you have some tracks in your arsenal that you know will work. And you can find songs easier in a pressure situation. Or you have certain tracks that you know just work.
Then you might realize it’s not working the second time because the dance floor is different.
You have those records that you know will do something. They’re like a “get out of jail” card. That can help set the tone for the rest of the night because you’ve got them, and then you can figure it out where to go from there.
I mean, the important part is keeping an open mind and curiosity alive. If you keep your antennas up, you realize there’s always good stuff happening. There’s always great music out there, and that’s what inspires me—to hear new music or chase down a track.
I have so many friends who are DJs and musicians that I love and admire. I’m always asking, “What was that?” I still go out to hear music to be inspired.
It’s a different world now where everything is so immediate and available to you. Back in the day, it was a bit harder to find things. It was like a test pressing or a reel-to-reel tape of something.
It’s all different, but the feeling is the same for me—getting a file of a track I’ve been after and reaching out to the producer like, “Hey, I really like this.”
You just mentioned your daughters. I remember meeting Imogene when she was still managing Blood Orange—we did a big story for Intro Magazin on him. Right now, Imogene is defining the zeitgeist of pop culture (and also a bit of politics) with her creative direction work for Charli XCX (the “Brat” campaign) and Clairo. I bring this up because I wonder how important the dialogue with your daughters and younger people is for you. Would you say you hear and listen to all that current music, but in the end, it’s just you and how the music resonates with you?
I’m super close with my daughters. My daughter, Ella, works for Dia, the art foundation, and also DJs. They both DJ—not as their main career, but they can do it really well. We’re constantly communicating about music, and I think we all learn things from each other.
What Imogene does with Charli and others is fantastic—I love it. I’m super proud of both of them, and their work has informed my understanding of things I might not know otherwise.
Most of the clubs I play at are filled with people their age. Fortunately I’ve found a way to connect with them. I guess they connect with me, and me with them. My daughter Ella lives here, and she and her friends come to a lot of my sets and that’s really great . I’ve Dj’d with both my daughters and it’s super special to be able to share that with them.
I think once you give up hope and just put yourself in a mindset of, “Oh, it was so much better back in blah blah blah; there’s nothing good now,” that’s a mistake. There’s so much great music out there. No one can even keep up with how much there is. It’s insane.
That’s right. We’ve talked about you and the way you play music, but as you mentioned, the audience plays a key role in the experience. The dance floors have changed a lot since you began DJing. The dance floors of the ’80s and ’90s were different—the way people danced and interacted was totally different. Nowadays, everyone dances facing the DJ and expects a real show.
Yeah.
I can’t say I love that. I was in a band, and I loved doing that. That feels natural. Staring at at a dj from the dance floor doesn’t make sense to me. I still get to perform live with some of my projects. We did a whole bunch of live shows with Each Other, my project with Max Pask.
I love both of your projects—Each Other and Extra Credit, the one with Joe Goddard (of Hot Chip) and Marcus Marr.
Oh, thank you! There are two new EPs, one from Each Other and one from Extra Credit waiting to come out both on Deewee, and I’m also currently working on a solo record. I’m feeling very inspired musically right now.
When I started going out to clubs , you really didn’t look at the DJ, you listened to the music, and engaged with your friends, or made new friends on the dance floor. There was the social aspect of it of course, but not the social media. There’s nothing wrong with that, but I do miss that connection to the music.
And maybe it’s just that there’s so much music now that it’s harder to form those connections. Every DJ is playing different records. Back then, there were anthems you’d hear in every club, and they represented the time and moment.
Yes for sure those anthems as you call them are harder to find these days.
Fees have definitely gotten better since I started DJing. That’s for sure.
Also, maybe people have to work harder now because life is more expensive. We have so many more options for our free time—gaming, the internet, 20,000 TV channels—all of that. When I was a kid, it was mostly music and nothing else. We had like 5 TV channels back then.
Music is free now. When something is free, it’s devalued to a big extent. It feels less precious. When you went out and spent money on music, records, and CDs, it really meant something to have it. I would go to record stores three or four times a week, spending all my money on that music.
It was my job to have those records, but it was also inspirational for me.
A big part of this is the idea of the club as a community place. We still have that at some venues, like the Golden Pudel club in Hamburg, Sameheads or Berghain in Berlin, or Salon des Amateurs in Düsseldorf. I’m sure the same goes for clubs here. You see familiar faces every week, and that creates a connection. In the ’80s, when you started DJing, you mostly played in New York and knew the crowd. You went to all these clubs, and everyone was there; you knew you’d meet your friends there.
We didn’t have cell phones or the internet. That was where we’d meet. So, yeah, I do miss that.
I was talking to a friend who recently opened a club here, and he asked me, “What do you think about the crowd?” I told him, “You know, on the first night this club opened, everyone was here.” I thought, “Wow, this is going to be the place where everyone feels like they want to come.all the time” But after the first night, those people don’t come back regularly, they come occasionally.
I found this quote from you: “I cry when I hear certain music.” Do you feel that people react emotionally to music in public as they used to?
I remember going to the Paradise Garage a lot. I’d go every weekend after finishing my DJ set at AREA.. The connection that Larry Levan had with that crowd— that’s what really turned my head around as far as DJing. Emotionally, it was powerful. Good, bad, whatever it was, there was this strong connection to him and the music he played. He spoke to those people through his music, and that’s what I strive to do too. You could tell by his set how he was feeling. If he had a good day or bad day you could tell and the crowd knew it too. It’s the human element that you can bring to a dj set that I think makes it extra special. Not for it to be a therapy session but connecting and expressing emotions through the music you play.
If you look at the careers and biographies of artists, they usually start at home in a specific city and then begin playing more frequently out of town. They end up less connected to their home crowd, which can be a deep connection. Touring becomes a job—you go in and out for the set. I get it; you can’t throw yourself into ten gigs a month like you used to when you were at home, knowing you could sleep all day after without needing to catch a flight.
I mean, it’s the best job in the world, and I have no business complaining about anything. But if there were something to complain about, yes the traveling can be tough.
Let’s be real—there are people who work much harder than DJs. It gets on my nerves when I hear DJs complain. We’re fortunate and lucky. We shouldn’t take this for granted. I never do.
Do you get to hear stories from people on “your” dance floor later on, about what happened during your sets and the impact it had on their lives?
One good thing about the internet is that people can reach out to you now. When I started DJing, you did your gig, went home, made records, and didn’t really know how people connected with it. Now, everyone can write and say, “I had the greatest night of my life,” or “This record means so much to me.” That’s the beautiful part of technology.
Or they stick around after the set to say hello—that’s rewarding. It’s a gift to share three or four hours with someone. Many people really appreciate the effort it takes to travel and come to play a show.
Justin, how do you experience Europe differently when you come over from the States?
It’s different, but at its core, a club is a club. People come to dance, and it’s your job to make them dance. Every place has its own unique vibe, but the general experience isn’t all that different.
I love playing at Opium in Lithuania. I had no idea what it would be like, and when I got there, the crowd was so open-minded—like, “Play anything.” Panorama Bar in Berlin, Charlie in Munich, and Zukunft in Zurich are other places I play frequently, Homes away from home so to speak. You get to build a relationship with the crowd after time.
Here in New York, I have residencies at Night Moves, Gabriela, Good Room, Outer Heaven, and Jeans at the moment so I’m consistently playing.
Clubs and festivals are just one side of the electronic music scene. The other side includes off-spaces and community-driven venues. Obviously, an artist can’t expect the same fees there, but the inspiration often comes from these spaces. In Germany, clubs like Golden Pudel and Salon des Amateurs fit this category.
There are a lot of young collectives in New York, too, with DIY parties and spaces. It’s a very personal experience within the scene. I think it’s important to participate in these types of events where it’s not just about the fee. There are plenty of gigs where you can earn a good fee, but you won’t have the same experience as you would in these community spaces.
I’ve done gigs for little or no money for friends and collectives doing great things
If you focus solely on money, there’s always another gig. I never got into this for the money; it wasn’t even a thought. I didn’t even want to be a DJ. I was in a band, the band broke up, and I didn’t know what to do—so this just happened. Was there a moment when you realized, “Okay, this is how I’ll make a living”?
When I started, DJ fees weren’t very high. It was the opposite; you made money from making records and remixing. At the Mudd Club, I can’t remember what I got paid—maybe a couple hundred bucks a night. After a year, a new club called The Ritz opened (now Webster Hall), and I was working there three or four times a week. That led to gigs at AREA, Tunnel, Limelight, and others. At that point, it became my job, and it was a very cool job.
You touched on the remixing and recording part of your career. You’ve done countless remixes.
Some people hate doing remixes, but I really love them. I still do a lot, but right now, I’m trying to say no or that it will have to wait as I’m trying to finish my record. Remixes can take time, at least for me.
I’ve learned so much about production through remixing. I’ve worked on amazing records across various genres and artists. Getting into those tracks and adding your own flavor is an invaluable lesson. The best records are often harder to remix because they’re already great.
I’ve done remixes for Pacific, 808 State, Luther Vandross, Depeche Mode, Tina Turner—so many artists I respect and admire.
It was around the pandemic that you returned to producing, right? Because you obviously couldn’t DJ.
I had been doing productions previous to that with my Whatever/Whatever project with Bryan Mette and my A/Jus/Ted project with Teddy Stuart, both of which I’m very proud of. More recently I had two projects going before the pandemic, producing originals and remixes. The pandemic was a significant shift for everyone. The Each Other record (with Max Pask) came out just before the pandemic. Extra Credit was recorded post-pandemic in London at Joe Goddard’s studio, with Joe and Marcus Marr, both mixed by Soulwax at Deewee.
Was there a moment during the pandemic when you thought, “This might be the end of my DJ career. I may not come back from this”?
I remember thinking at the start of it “What’s going to happen?” and would we return to the dance floors eventually? But, of course, it was scary and in New York so many people got ill and lost jobs. Its effects will last for quite some time I’m afraid, and some friends are suffering with long term covid which is real and devastating.
Have there been doubts? It was a scary time for anyone whose job is to be out in public and make money that way. People realized how precious this is; it could be taken away at any time. Who thought that was possible? I think that gave everyone a deeper appreciation for something as simple as going out to a club, which many took for granted.
For months, maybe a year after the pandemic, when things began to open up, it felt like a new beginning in a way. Everyone was just so happy to be out and dancing. Although some of that excitement has faded, I think there are people eager to go out again, which is cool.
You just mentioned a solo album. When is that supposed to come out?
It’s an EP. Four songs so far, but I’m still working on it. I don’t have a clear idea yet of a label. Whoever’s most excited about putting it out will probably be involved.
Is it instrumental, or are you singing?
I’m singing on everything. Pat Mahoney from LCD Soundsystem played drums on a couple of tracks, and I might have a few special guests. I’m recording at my friend Andrew Raposo’s studio in Bushwick, and he’s co producing it with me.
Justin, we’re sitting in front of Little Roy, the coffee shop you picked. Are you living in this neighborhood?
Yeah, I live two blocks away. I moved to Bed-Stuy about two years ago, and I really love it. I lived in Manhattan most of my life and raised my daughters there. I lived in Brooklyn when I was young, until I was nine. So it’s nice to be back.
Everything club-wise happens in Brooklyn now, which is the opposite of when I started, so that makes things more convenient. I love this neighborhood, this park, and the community here. There’s a lot going on.
Why did you choose this area? Was it because of the clubs?
My girlfriend was living here. I came here a lot when we started dating and thought, “I really like it.” Then an opportunity for an apartment came up, so I grabbed it. Here I am.
How high is your mobility within the city? Are you someone who enjoys going from place to place, like the Whitney Museum for an opening and then to Harlem? Or are you more…
Lazy? No, not at all.
I didn’t think so.
I live in New York City because I love being able to go everywhere. I walk a lot when I can and take the train. Late at night, after a gig, I’ll take an Uber home. But if I can get there by train, I’ll do that.
Around here, the buses are good for getting around, too. You can travel from here to Ridgewood, to Bushwick. There are plenty of ways to navigate the city. For me, New York is about walking—that’s where I get a lot of my inspiration. The energy of the city has always inspired me.
I go into Manhattan now and walk around. It’s still exciting.
Do you have a favorite place in the city?
Lately, I’ve been going to Washington Square Park. It’s filled with a mix of characters and has a ton of history—counterculture, revolutions, protests. There’s always something happening there.
If you could pick a specific time and place, what was your favorite neighborhood in New York? Can you name it?
No, not really.
Which is a good thing, because New York is too vibrant for you to be nostalgic.
I lived in Gramercy for most of my life, which is a quiet, residential area on the east side. But the East Village was where I hung out, and clubs like Area in Tribeca and Danceteria on 21st Street. Now the Lower East Side has tons of bars and clubs. It’s always changing, which is what makes it great. There’s not one area that defines the city.
Going to Avenue A, B, or C back in the day felt like taking your life in your hands. Places like Save the Robots, this after-hours club, was in uncharted territory. Now, million-dollar houses stand where those burned-out buildings were.
Did anything really bad happen to you back then?
I’ve never had anything bad happen to me in this city.
Really? That’s great!
I’ve never been mugged. Nothing has ever happened to me and I feel fortunate. But you do have a sense of caution and some inherent street smarts growing up here.
I know a lot of people have horror stories, and yes, there are problems like mental illness and homelessness. Anything can happen anywhere. Maybe I’ve just been super lucky. But when I go to San Francisco and see what’s happening there, New York feels like a dream in that regard.
Or LA.
Exactly! A very desperate situation.
It’s really sad. Speaking of which, are you going to watch the debate tonight between Kamala Harris and Donald Trump?
I don’t know. I might catch it later, whether live or afterward.
Nothing I will hear is going to change my mind. But I’m curious to see how she handles herself against someone I despise with every bone in my body.
She’s not perfect, or even close, but I don’t expect perfection from politicians. She’s definitely better than the alternative. I think having a woman president would be monumental right now. I think she would be a great choice especially considering who she’s running against, though I acknowledge valid criticisms of her past. We’re at a critical moment in history. I seriously considered moving away during the last election if things had turned out differently. I couldn’t take another day living under that administration. Living under the Trump administration was a very dark time. It’s still a dark time with what’s going on in many places in the world right now. It’s devastating and heartbreaking.
Justin, thank you so much for your time and this conversation.
I hope it made sense.
To me, it made sense.
Okay great.
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