Rethinking Success in the post-TikTok DJ era

There was a time—not long ago—when success in the underground meant something very different. It meant digging deeper, not shouting louder. It meant creating something no one else dared to, not copying what already works. Success was measured in artistry, integrity, and the ability to hold a dancefloor with raw skill andpure intention—not algorithms, edits, or viral bait.

The DJ booth used to be a workshop. Records were tools. The goal wasn’t to be seen, but to be felt. The best sets weren’t always captured on camera; sometimes, they lived only in memory, shared through word of mouth like sacred folklore. If you knew, you knew.

But today, the metrics have shifted. We’ve entered what many call the ‘TikTok DJ’ era—an epoch where virality trumps vision. Artists are now asked to be content creators first, curators second, and musicians last (think James Hype). The pressure to keep up with trends—whether it’s the 2010-era EDM drop making a comeback or yet another unnecessary Drake/Disclosure mashup—has diluted what underground once stood for. The visuals are sharper, the hands are always in the air, but the soul? That’s on life support.

We’ve confused reach with resonance.

The art of DJing has been reduced to a highlight reel. A 15-second clip of a drop going off, crowd screaming, confetti maybe. But the lead-up? The journey? The storytelling? Gone. What we’re left with is spectacle without substance—a looping simulation of excitement, optimized for likes, not longevity.

And yet, something is shifting.

Audiences are growing tired. You can feel it in the fatigue of dancefloors that don’t want another copy-paste festival edit. You can hear it in the side conversations during sets that sound exactly like the last 20. And you can see it in the reemergence of DJs who care about digging, who build their sets like narratives, not soundtracks for Instagram Stories.

The algorithm is starting to sputter.

We are entering an inflection point—where the novelty of TikTok fame is starting to wear off, and the hunger for actual depth is returning. It won’t be immediate, but it’s coming. Because real artistry always finds a way to break through. Because people don’t remember mashups—they remember moments. They remember feeling something.

Success in the underground must be redefined again. Not by follower counts or viral remixes, but by the ability to move people—emotionally, physically, spiritually. Not by how many hands go up, but by how many minds get opened.

It’s time to retire the hands-in-the-air cliché. Maybe even grow a second pair—one for the CDJs, one for the crowd—but more importantly, a third for the craft. The underground was never supposed to be easy. And maybe that’s the point.

The TikTok DJ era might have been loud. But what comes next? That’ll be profound.

— Nina for Unmixed Magazine