Before anything else, Clovis observes.
Through photography, through sound, through the slow accumulation of details that most would pass by. It’s a way of working that’s followed him from still images into the booth.
Romania has been a constant thread in that journey. Right now, as the club world shifts between visibility and saturation, he remains drawn to spaces, people, and influences that still leave room to play. We caught up with him there, ahead of his return this weekend.
What excites you lately, Clovis?
A perfect cup of black coffee in bed with my cats and my girlfriend when I wake up in the morning. Discovering new music that I instantly want to play over and over (happens daily). A perfect bowl of ramen. (surprise)
There’s a lot of pressure right now to be visible, fast, constantly present. Have you ever felt out of sync with the rhythm of the industry? How do you navigate that?
Absolutely I have, and sort of the hypercapitalist mindset in general. I’ve always felt like I was moving through the world at a slower pace than the mainstream and taking things in and making my moves on my own time. In the hyper-social media era of DJing people seem to want to present themselves as always busy and playing more and more gigs and never sitting still. It’s fantastic to be in demand and have a crazy calendar, but after 20 years of djing, I’m happy to no longer feel pressure to be one of those people. I work at a club that happens to be one of my favorite places to play in the world, and each time I travel somewhere to play it feels special and I can take a few days to soak in the city, country, and culture that I’ve landed in…
Refreshing perspective! What’s something about your process, be it digging, selecting, or even playing, that people would be surprised to know?
If I’m feeling nervous before a gig (yes, it still happens sometimes), I like to listen to some select classic 90s hardcore rap like Mobb Deep or some insane Kool Keith on repeat to clear my head and remember to just do my thing.
The scene today feels more connected than ever, but also more fragmented. From your perspective, what’s genuinely evolving, and what’s just noise?
It’s hard to say; there are so many different scenes within scenes and places and crews doing things for the right reasons with good values creating real meaningful communities, and then there are tons of huge parties with seas of smartphones in the air and people not dancing at all. There is everything in between, and I suspect there always has been, but the big tech era has just made everything different than it was in the 90s. Maybe evolving right now means getting back to that particular innocence good parties had decades ago…
You’ve been part of different ecosystems, labels, clubs, collaborations. What kind of spaces still feel meaningful to you right now?
Anywhere run by people with good values doing things purely for the love of this music and the magic it still creates on a good dancefloor. People who put care into what they do and understand that every party is a community effort. The sound technicians, the bartenders, the door person, the cleaning staff, the security, everyone is important to a good night, and when you find places and crews that understand that, you will have a great time, almost guaranteed.
Has your relationship with music changed over time? Not in terms of taste, but in terms of why you do it.
It hasn’t really. It’s still mind-blowing to me that the curiosity for music simply never ends. There has been so much incredible music through years and years, throughout history. And people you have never heard of making amazing new stuff. I have always joked with my younger brother “music is the best video game of all time." There is no final boss, there are endless levels and side quests, and it’s a fully open world. You strike out in a new direction every day and choose your own adventure. Music has helped me and guided me through every period of my life, from my highest moments to the darkest, like the passing of my father when I was 18. So the question of 'why' answers itself; I could not imagine living my life in any other way but with music as a central guiding constant…
Authenticity gets thrown around a lot in electronic music, but rarely unpacked. What does it actually mean to you, beyond the word itself?
To me, it means remembering that you are not a brand or a product. You are a person and an individual and an artist first, and you are here to be true to yourself, your values, and your internal world of music beyond any external expectations of what you might think you should be. I think many of us at times during our earlier evolution may have found ourselves trying to play a role or be someone we are not, but with age and experience you find it easier to recognize that and stay away from it.
You’ve built a long-standing connection with Romania and places like Guesthouse. What keeps drawing you back here? And more broadly, which scenes, clubs, or artists still genuinely intrigue you today?
I have been playing all over Romania for more than a decade, and having lived in Bucharest during the pandemic years, it still feels somewhat like a second home (shoutout to all the homies from the Sunrise Hub). Some of the greatest clubbing experiences of my life happened at the old Guesthouse at Popa Nan 82 (I even remember the address by heart), and the musical education and inspiration I received over several years of Sunwaves in Mamaia cannot be understated. It seems the Romanian scene is now entering a difficult period with the overall climate from the authorities vis-à-vis dance music events, but I am grateful that the scene in Bucharest seems very much alive still.
What’s something about the current state of the scene that people don’t say out loud, but should?
Younger generations are drinking less and less, and clubs, venues and large events survive almost entirely from alcohol sales. Have we thought about a new model yet?
What’s the last thing you found digging that made you think recently: okay, this one’s not leaving the bag anytime soon?
I have no idea how to choose just one, but I somehow completely missed this Radio Slave stripped-back disco-samples weapon on Swedish label Karlovak from years back till discovering it recently. Matt Edwards in prime form doing what he does best. In heavy rotation, but only for the right moment…