Beyond the Beat: Paul Larrozea on Authenticity, Risk, and the Art of DJing

In a time when the pulse of underground music is smothered by safe, predictable rhythms, we’re stepping into a realm where authenticity reigns. This conversation isn’t about echoing familiar refrains—it’s about opening up a space where fiery energy and uncompromising passion can flourish. Today, we lay the groundwork for a dialogue that dives into the heart of electronic music’s most defiant moments. Before the words spill over, let the atmosphere build as our guest readies to introduce himself.

“Be the DJ who doesn’t give the people what they want—but what they didn’t know they needed.”

Hi, I’m Paul Larrozea—DJ, producer, and experience designer from the Basque Country (Spain), currently based between Bali and Barcelona. I’ve been crafting musical journeys for nearly a decade, playing internationally from Sziget Festival to dancefloors across Serbia, Portugal, Mexico, and beyond. I also run Melodeep, a collective creating mindful, music-centered events that celebrate balance, connection, and artistic depth.

Nina: In your opinion, where do we stand with electronic music in March 2025? What excites you, and what concerns you?

Paul: We’re at a pivotal crossroads. On one hand, electronic music is booming; on the other, it’s increasingly shaped by commercial interests and losing its soul. In Ibiza, Mykonos, and now Bali, I’ve seen clubs prioritizing crowd-pleasers over culture, recycling familiar hits to fill rooms. What excites me, though, is the resilience of true music lovers and curators still pushing boundaries. There are still sets and events that remind me why I fell in love with this genre—and that keeps me hopeful.

Nina: Let’s talk about your recent Instagram reel. What made you record it, and what kind of response were you hoping for?

Paul: That reel wasn’t planned—it came from a moment of disappointment turned into a statement. I was kicked off the decks mid-set in a venue that prioritized bottle service and song requests over musical integrity. I knew it wasn’t an isolated case, and I felt the need to speak up. The response was overwhelming—DJs from around the world shared similar stories. Some open-format DJs criticized me for not adapting, but I believe artistry means staying true to your sound. I won’t play reggaeton or amapiano just because it’s trendy. My tools are indie dance, house, melodic techno, organic, and afro house (non-commercial), and I have to feel the music to transmit it genuinely.

Nina: Now that it’s out there, how do you feel about the public reaction? Did it align with your expectations?

Paul:It actually surpassed them. I didn’t expect it to resonate so widely. Many DJs thanked me for voicing a truth they’ve experienced in silence. It wasn’t a dramatic exit—I was just replacing a sick friend, and it was kind of expected. But it reaffirmed my values. This isn’t about ego; it’s about protecting the art form and restoring respect for the craft.

Nina: What tangible steps do you think need to happen to fix the current state of the underground scene?

Paul: Education. We need to pass on the values of electronic music—respect for the DJ, dancefloor etiquette, and the importance of listening. Dressing like a raver is easy; embodying the culture is something else. Promoters must prioritize substance over trends, DJs must bring originality, and audiences need to support events rooted in quality—not just popularity. It’s a collective responsibility.

Nina: Do you believe the underground and commercial sound can still be separated? How do we maintain that distinction?

Paul: We don’t need rigid walls—we need clear intentions. Not everyone connects to deep electronic music right away. That’s why mid-ground events, not too underground or too commercial, are important entry points. I started with EDM myself before evolving into more refined genres. We shouldn’t be snobs—there’s a space for every stage of musical maturity.

Nina: What does being a DJ mean to you beyond just playing music?

Paul: A DJ is a storyteller—someone who sculpts emotion through sound. It’s about reading energy, creating moments, and offering something unexpected. Beyond the artistic side, it’s also a profession—one that deserves ethics, dedication, and mutual respect within the community.

Nina: As a creative, how do you navigate an industry that prioritizes commercial appeal over artistic integrity?

Paul: I trust the journey. My sound has moved crowds in places where I was told it wouldn’t. I like taking risks—blending indie dance into afro-oriented settings or layering afro elements into more housey grooves. I use hooks and classics to keep people engaged, but always with intention and moderation. The challenge is to remain true to yourself while adapting just enough to connect.

Nina: Do you think the underground has lost its mystery? If so, how?

Paul: In some ways, yes. The underground used to be intimate and almost sacred. Now, with social media, it’s more exposed—but that doesn’t mean diluted. Many underground events still thrive. The key is to grow without losing the magic—protect the spirit while expanding the reach.

Nina: How do you balance artistic freedom with staying relevant in a fast-changing industry?

Paul: You have to know why you play. If you’re not a superstar, you might need to take gigs for survival. But at what cost? In Bali, I realized that adapting too much made me lose my identity. That’s why I’ve drawn a line—I now prefer to generate income through music-related projects like organizing events, creating content, or helping others grow. I’ve chosen expression over compromise as I can have a bigger impact in the industry by being more than a DJ.

Nina: What’s the biggest misconception people have about the underground scene today?

Paul: That it’s messy, niche, or for “lost” people. In reality, the underground is about curiosity, experimentation, and emotional connection. It’s not about how wild you get—it’s about how deeply you listen.

Nina: Does social media help or hurt underground culture? Where’s the fine line?

Paul: It’s a double-edged sword. Social media can amplify underground culture—but also flatten it into aesthetics and surface-level hype. You can post rave content and look the part without living it. The platform isn’t the enemy—it’s how we use it. I aim to create content that informs and inspires. If we use social media to communicate values—not just visuals—we can turn it into a force for good.

Nina: If you could change one thing about the music industry right now, what would it be?

Paul: Redesign the dancefloor dynamic. VIP tables shouldn’t take up front-row space. Move them to the sides—let the dancefloor, where real connection happens, take center stage. Prioritize the vibe, not the bottle service.

Nina: Name an artist who perfectly embodies the spirit of the underground.

Paul: DVS1 is an obvious pick—his commentary on the scene is honest and urgent. But I also want to mention Jimi Jules and Âme (Live). I saw both recently in Bali. Even in a commercial setting, they stayed true to their sound—and the crowd loved them for it.

No compromise, just pure expression. That’s the energy we need more of.

Nina: What’s next for you? Anything exciting in the works?

Paul: I’m heading back to Europe in May, and I can’t wait to reconnect with more intentional dancefloors. I’ve also been producing a lot in Bali, and my first tracks will be released soon. On top of that, I’m working on educational content to make high-quality music more accessible—and to inspire people to reconnect with the magic of electronic music, away from the noise of the mainstream.

Nina: Thank you Paul for your insights, I am so to have you. Making more high-quality music accessible is truly something we can all benefit from and I wish you the most pleasant journey back to the EU this coming May. Hopefully, we can meet in NYC someday

Paul Larrozea: SoundCloud | Instagram | TikTok | YouTube | more

Interview & words by Nina Katashvili for Unmixed Magazine 2025