LOVE: What DJX 2026 Reminded Me About Our Industry, Our History, and Each Other

By Mike Garrett

There are some experiences you attend.

There are others you live.

And then there are those rare experiences that follow you home.

They stay in your thoughts. They make you reconsider things you thought you already understood. They cause you to look at people differently, appreciate moments differently, and sometimes even understand yourself differently.

DJX 2026 was that kind of experience for me.

I went to Atlantic City expecting a DJ conference.

I expected equipment, education, interviews, new products, conversations, and the opportunity to reconnect with people I've met throughout this journey.

I got all of that.

But somewhere along the way, I realized I was experiencing something much bigger.

Love.

Not romantic love.

Not some manufactured, feel-good version of the word.

I mean love for a craft.

Love for people.

Love for music.

Love for history.

Love for those who came before us.

Love for those coming behind us.

Love expressed through teaching, creating, supporting, remembering, celebrating, sacrificing, and simply showing up for one another.

Once I recognized it, I couldn't stop seeing it.

It was everywhere.

Before the Doors Ever Opened

My DJX journey started Sunday as I prepared to leave Dallas, Texas.

I was excited.

Every year, you wonder what a show will bring.

What will surprise you?

Who will you meet?

What product will make you stop and take notice?

What conversation will stay with you?

What will you learn that you didn't even know you needed to learn?

This year, we also had our friend DJ Chill traveling with us to help. He and I flew into Philadelphia together.

Then came our first adventure.

We were waiting for Jay P, who was flying in from Cleveland, and his flight ended up being delayed for roughly three hours.

So we waited.

When he finally arrived in Philadelphia, you would think the waiting was over.

Nope.

The baggage conveyor he was waiting on broke.

Another hour and a half.

That's travel.

Eventually, everybody was together. We got our rental car and headed toward Atlantic City.

During that drive, we talked about the show, our expectations, what we hoped to accomplish, and something particularly special to me:

Jay P was going to give his first DJX seminar.

That mattered.

We talked through parts of his presentation and enjoyed the ride together until we finally arrived in Atlantic City.

After checking in, we began seeing familiar faces.

Friends.

People who had become near and dear to us.

People we may not see regularly throughout the year but with whom the connection immediately returns when we're together again.

Looking back now, maybe love had already entered the story.

I just hadn't recognized it yet.

Watching a Blank Canvas Become DJX

Monday was setup day.

Some people may not find setup particularly exciting.

I do.

There is something beautiful about walking into a space before the finished product exists.

The showroom is essentially a blank canvas.

Then the paint begins hitting it.

Cases roll in.

Equipment gets unloaded.

Displays begin going up.

Speakers are positioned.

Lighting is hung.

Booths begin taking shape.

People are moving everywhere.

Eventually, that empty room becomes something thousands of people will experience without ever seeing what it took to create it.

I enjoy watching that transformation.

But I enjoy watching the people even more.

When I step back and look across the room, I see this gigantic group of people from different cities, companies, backgrounds, cultures, and walks of life who share a common bond.

Somewhere along the way, many of us have become family.

That's something we can miss when we're moving too fast.

Sometimes you have to stop.

Look across the room.

And take it all in.

We got our 2 DJs 1 Mic podcast area outside the showroom ready and prepared ourselves for the days ahead.

But something else was happening to me.

Every year, something at a show grabs me.

Usually, I don't immediately know what it is.

Pieces start appearing, almost like somebody is slowly assembling a puzzle in front of me.

By Monday, some of those pieces were beginning to show themselves.

When the Word Finally Found Me

By Tuesday, DJX was fully alive.

The hallways were filled with conversations. People were reconnecting. Attendees were arriving. Vendors were preparing. The showroom was ready.

And we started doing what Jay and I came there to do.

Listen.

Talk.

Interview.

Learn.

Document.

We had the opportunity to speak with DJ Dog Trane.

Listening to him describe what DJing means to him made something obvious.

This wasn't simply something he did.

He loved it.

You could hear that love in the way he talked about his journey, his teams, how he started, and what the craft meant to him.

Then we spoke with DJ Dook, someone we had wanted to connect with for some time.

Hearing the perspective of someone who has spent roughly 17 years in this industry reminded me again that everybody has a story.

Everybody came through a different door.

Everybody has different reasons for staying.

Then came DJ Big Daddy.

Or, as he jokingly says, Big Mama.

If you've met Big Daddy, you understand.

This is a man who has been part of the industry for more than half a century.

And yet his enthusiasm hasn't disappeared.

He is still working.

Still contributing.

Still encouraging.

Still excited about this craft.

But something he said during our conversation reached beyond DJing.

He talked about life.

Today is a blessing.

Tomorrow isn't promised.

The next moment isn't promised.

Next month isn't promised.

Next year isn't promised.

So when you're given another opportunity to wake up and live, treat that day like the blessing it is.

And sitting there listening to him, something clicked.

Love.

That was it.

That was what I had been seeing.

That was the thread running through everything.

DJX 2026, for me, was about love.

And once that word entered my mind, everything else started making sense.

Sometimes Music Brings Us Back

We also spent time with our friends DJ Rell E Rell and DJ Kelli Vision.

Kelli's story stopped me.

We've all heard stories about what COVID took from people.

But hearing statistics and hearing somebody explain what happened to them personally are two different things.

Kelli talked about losing access to things she enjoyed doing and things that were important to her.

She talked about what that period did to her mentally, not simply physically.

Then came the part that touched my soul.

Music helped bring her back.

Think about the power in that statement.

We casually describe music as entertainment.

Sometimes it is.

But sometimes music is much more than entertainment.

Sometimes music is therapy.

Sometimes music is memory.

Sometimes music gives someone a reason to reconnect with a part of themselves they thought they had lost.

Sometimes music is a lifeline.

The People Behind What We See

One of the things that mattered most to Jay and me was having the opportunity to speak with members of the DJX core team.

Because we see the finished show.

We see the booths.

We see the seminars.

We see the equipment.

We see the stages.

We see the signage.

We see the social media posts.

We see thousands of people walking around enjoying what has been created.

What we don't always see are the months of planning.

The phone calls.

The problems.

The negotiations.

The schedules.

The logistics.

The changes.

The pressure.

The unexpected situations.

The long days.

The decisions that have to be made when nobody outside that team even knows there's a problem.

We had conversations with Shawn, Jasmine, Jim, Steve, John Hohman, Jeffery, Robin, John G, and others who help make DJX possible.

We didn't get everybody on camera.

That doesn't mean the conversations that happened away from the microphones mattered any less.

Robin particularly stands out to me.

She may be a woman of small stature, but the presence of the work she does is as large as the building housing the show.

While talking with Steve, something funny came into my mind.

The Avengers.

That's what the DJX team reminded me of.

Everybody has a different superpower.

Everybody has a responsibility.

Everybody contributes something different.

But the mission requires all of them.

I jokingly told Steve that he was Steve Rogers “Captain America” because of how much he does.

But behind the joke is something serious.

Never look at a finished product and forget about the people behind it.

Behind almost everything we enjoy is somebody solving problems we never knew existed so that we can experience the finished product.

Remember those people.

Thank them.

Celebrate them.

Because without them, there is no show.

Why Jay and I Believe Our Work Matters

We also spoke with Derek from Mobile Beat and discussed what he wants and intends to accomplish moving forward.

I enjoy hearing people talk about the future of DJ conferences because Jay and I don't see ourselves as simply two guys sitting behind microphones.

We are journalists.

And we are married to the betterment of this industry.

That carries a responsibility.

Our job is to listen.

To ask questions.

To document.

To recognize.

To preserve.

And then to disseminate that information to people who weren't standing in the room.

That's why what happened later with DJ Larry D affected me so deeply.

"Are You Mike?"

I was standing outside the showroom when DJ Larry D walked up to me.

He asked:

"Are you Mike?"

I said yes.

Then he asked if I was the person who had written the article about the show the previous year.

Again, I said yes.

Then he thanked me.

He told me nobody had ever written anything like that about him.

He told me how much he appreciated the article and how it made him feel.

He explained that he and his wife had been out to dinner when somebody contacted him and asked whether he had seen it.

Then he showed me his Instagram.

He had the article pinned at the top of his page.

That moment did something to me.

The eye contact.

The sincerity.

The realization that something I wrote had actually reached the person I was attempting to recognize.

I didn't write that article because I wanted DJ Larry D to thank me.

I wasn't looking for recognition.

I wrote it because I witnessed something that I believed deserved to be captured.

And Larry taught me something in return.

We don't celebrate each other enough.

And we don't document enough.

There are extraordinary moments happening within this industry that will disappear if nobody captures them.

That's our history.

If we don't write about it, photograph it, record it, interview the people involved, and preserve their stories, eventually the only people who will know what happened will be the people who happened to be standing in the room.

Then time passes.

Memories fade.

People leave us.

And pieces of our history disappear with them.

We cannot allow that.

That conversation with Larry D became one of the highlights of DJX 2026 for me.

Because it reminded me that words matter.

Recognition matters.

Documentation matters.

And telling somebody that what they did mattered...

matters.

The First-Timers Told the Story

One thing I always enjoy is talking with people attending DJX for the first time.

They haven't become accustomed to anything yet.

Everything is new.

So you get to see the show through fresh eyes.

We spoke with DJ Poppy T from San Antonio, Texas, and her excitement was infectious.

We talked with DJ Hi Fashion.

We spoke with DJ Wash, who has attended the show for 15 years straight, and hearing the excitement he still had after all that time was incredible.

Again and again, we heard people talk about what they were experiencing.

The showroom.

The products.

The seminars.

The education.

But one thing kept coming up.

The relationships.

The hallway conversations.

The people they met.

The connections they made.

That's the part you can't put into a brochure.

Someone can tell you about a DJ conference.

Someone can show you photographs.

Someone can send you videos.

But nobody can transfer the experience to you.

You have to be there.

You have to have the conversation.

You have to ask the question.

You have to shake the hand.

You have to meet the person you only knew through social media.

You have to discover that somebody you admired is actually approachable.

You have to experience it.

I used to question how much I could really get from attending a DJ show.

Then I attended my first one.

After that, I understood.

And I knew I couldn't afford to stop coming.

Education Is How a Culture Survives

We also spoke with DJs who have been heavily influenced by DJ Hapa and his educational work, including DJ Bryy, DJ B-Kat, DJ Freezy, DJ G-Man T, and others connected to that ecosystem.

Listening to them reinforced something I strongly believe.

Yes, you can teach yourself how to DJ.

Today, there are more educational resources available than ever.

Videos.

Courses.

Software.

Tutorials.

Communities.

You can learn an incredible amount sitting at home.

But you can only teach yourself so much.

There is something irreplaceable about learning from someone who came before you.

Someone who has already made the mistakes.

Someone who has already stood in difficult rooms.

Someone who knows what happens when equipment fails.

When a crowd changes.

When the timeline collapses.

When the plan doesn't work.

When the dance floor doesn't respond.

When the unexpected happens.

Education matters.

Mentorship matters.

Passing knowledge down matters.

Because if every generation has to start from zero, the culture never truly moves forward.

The Future Was Standing Right in Front of Us

Two of my favorite interviews involved two of the youngest people we met.

DJ Zay Money is 13 years old and from Brooklyn.

He's a DJ.

A dancer.

An actor.

A rapper.

He gave us a verse during our interview, and I appreciated the positivity in what he was saying.

But while looking at him, I noticed something else.

His father was there.

His father is also a DJ.

Support.

That's love.

When a child discovers something positive that lights a fire inside them, parents have an opportunity to either ignore that fire or help protect it.

Zay Money had people around him protecting it.

Then we met DJ Niam, a 12-year-old from Toronto.

His mother was there.

His father was there.

His little sister was there.

He had won the youth DJ competition and earned an opportunity to perform.

Watching him and talking with him was remarkable.

He had confidence.

He understood the room.

He communicated.

He carried himself like somebody far beyond his years.

But once again, look behind the child.

Mom.

Dad.

Family.

Support.

His father was there every step of the way.

His family helped put him in an environment where his interest could grow.

That's important.

Parents sometimes see a child's passion as something cute they'll eventually grow out of.

Maybe they will.

Maybe they won't.

But what if they don't?

What if that thing your child can't stop talking about is actually the beginning of their life's work?

When I looked at Niam and his family, I saw love.

Not simply someone saying, "We support you."

I saw people physically showing up.

There's a difference.

Love shows up.

Women Continuing to Move the Industry Forward

We also finally had the opportunity to sit down with Chi-Town Shani.

I learned things about her journey that I hadn't known before, including her background as a dancer with Junior M.A.F.I.A.

But what also matters is the work she continues doing within the DJ community and her connection to efforts supporting women in this industry.

That matters to us.

Women have always contributed to music and DJ culture, but their contributions have not always received equal visibility.

So when women are creating opportunities for other women, teaching, mentoring, building organizations, taking leadership positions, and opening doors, we should recognize it.

And we should support it.

Not as a favor.

Because they belong here.

When People Become Family

Then there are people like John Hannah from the Throwback Brothers.

Every time John and I start talking about old-school music, something happens.

We become kids.

The excitement comes back.

The records come back.

The stories come back.

We get giddy talking about music.

That's friendship built around something we both genuinely love.

John Hannah also creates edits for DMS, and his knowledge and passion for music always make our conversations worthwhile.

Then there are people like DJ Kung Fu from Chicago.

This brother is one of those people whose energy can change your mood.

Always positive.

Always something encouraging to say.

A great DJ.

A great performer.

But more importantly, a great person.

There are people you meet in an industry because business puts you in the same room.

Then there are people who become something more.

That's what happened for me with many of the people I now see at these conferences.

They're no longer simply industry contacts.

They're friends.

And for me, friends become family.

That's why seeing these people again brings me so much joy.

The People Behind the Products

The showroom itself gave me another perspective on love.

Because when people talk about vendors, it's easy to reduce them to logos.

But companies aren't logos.

They're people.

Tony and the team at Ultimate Ears.

Wil and the JetPack team.

Kyle and Kat with NLFX Professional.

Marco and the EV team.

Randy, Rafa, Ray, Ricky, and our friends at Electro-Tec Audio.

Jay, DJ Larry D, and the people at AlphaTheta.

RCF.

JBL.

Both Lighting.

DJ Event Planner.

And so many others contributing to the DJ ecosystem.

These aren't simply companies trying to sell us something.

Behind those products are people investing years of their lives into solving problems for this industry.

Some of these people have become friends.

People like Tony bring joy to my soul because of their authenticity.

Wil An and his team at JetPack have contributed something meaningful to the industry.

Kyle and Kat bring a wealth of knowledge and will take the time to help people understand what they need.

Marco has supported us and invested in what we're doing.

The relationships we've built with Randy, Rafa, Ray, Ricky, and the Electro-Tec family began through this industry and became genuine friendships.

And something I appreciate about many of these people is their accessibility.

Some have accomplished extraordinary things.

Some are pioneers.

Some have decades of experience.

Yet they aren't puffed up.

They're not too important to speak to somebody.

They're approachable.

They'll answer questions.

They'll help.

That's what community should look like.

Innovation Is an Investment in the Future

We had an opportunity to speak with Rex from Eleven Engineering and learn more about the work being done in wireless technology, including technology being incorporated into products such as Electro-Tec Audio's Stage One speaker.

We also sat down with Randy from Electro-Tec and talked about Stage One itself.

When we see a finished product, we sometimes forget how difficult it is to create something new.

Somebody has to believe in an idea before the market validates it.

Somebody has to invest money.

Invest time.

Prototype.

Test.

Fail.

Adjust.

Test again.

Solve problems.

Bring the product to market.

Then stand behind it.

That's risk.

That's commitment.

And in its own way, that's another expression of love for an industry.

You believe this community deserves something better, so you attempt to build it.

The Show Felt Like a Family Reunion

At some point during the week, I realized DJX reminded me of a family reunion.

Think about it.

At a family reunion, you have people who haven't seen each other in months or years.

Different generations come together.

People eat.

People talk.

Stories get told.

Older family members share knowledge.

Younger family members create new memories.

People reconnect.

And some of the most important moments happen in conversations nobody scheduled.

That's DJX.

There is education in those hallway conversations.

There is opportunity in introductions.

There is wisdom in sitting down with somebody who has been doing this for 30, 40, or 50 years.

There is encouragement in meeting someone who is experiencing the same struggles you are.

There is inspiration in seeing a 12-year-old DJ standing next to someone who has spent half a century behind the decks.

You can't recreate that online.

You have to be in the room.

What DJ Dayz and Michelle Made Me Think About

On the final day, we had a conversation with DJ Dayz and Michelle, who travels across the country in the DJX SUV helping spread the word about DJX and connecting with the DJ community.

Listening to their stories was emotional.

Watching Michelle talk about parts of their journey and seeing the emotion on her face made me think about this culture from another angle.

What exactly do DJs give people?

We say we play music.

But think about what actually happens.

When you're DJing for a crowd, whether there are 20 people or 20,000, you don't know what every person carried into that room.

You don't know who is grieving.

You don't know who just fell in love.

You don't know who hasn't seen certain friends in years.

You don't know who is celebrating surviving something.

You don't know who desperately needs a few minutes where life doesn't feel so heavy.

Then you play a record.

And somebody remembers being 16.

Somebody remembers their mother.

Somebody remembers their father.

Somebody remembers a friend who isn't here anymore.

Somebody remembers their first love.

Somebody grabs their spouse.

Somebody dances with their child.

Somebody laughs.

Somebody cries.

Somebody lets go.

Somebody heals a little.

Think about that.

We don't just play music.

Sometimes we're helping people revisit pieces of their lives.

That's a tremendous privilege.

And a tremendous responsibility.

Then the Canvas Became Blank Again

Eventually, the final day reached 3 p.m.

And the teardown began.

Cases came back out.

Displays came down.

Cables disappeared.

Equipment was packed.

People started saying goodbye.

Everybody was preparing to return home.

East Coast.

West Coast.

North.

South.

Everywhere.

And I stood there watching.

Remember Monday?

The blank canvas?

I watched people paint DJX onto that canvas.

Now I was watching them erase it.

Booth by booth.

Case by case.

Cable by cable.

Eventually, the physical evidence of what we had experienced began disappearing.

But here's what struck me:

The love didn't get packed into those cases.

The education didn't disappear when the booths came down.

The conversations didn't vanish when the banners were rolled up.

The relationships didn't end when the flights took off.

The young DJ who was inspired didn't lose that inspiration because the showroom was empty.

The person whose work was recognized didn't forget how that recognition felt.

The DJ who learned something carried that knowledge home.

The vendor who shook someone's hand may have created a relationship that lasts for years.

The child who was given an opportunity may remember it for the rest of his life.

That's the part of DJX you cannot tear down.

LOVE

So what did DJX 2026 teach me?

Love.

I saw it in Niam's parents.

I saw it in Zay Money's support system.

I saw it in Kelli Vision finding herself again through music.

I saw it in DJ Big Daddy reminding us that another day is a blessing.

I saw it in educators investing in the next generation.

I saw it in the women opening doors for other women.

I saw it in first-time attendees discovering a community they didn't know they needed.

I saw it in Larry D walking up to me simply to say thank you.

I saw it in vendors investing their time, money, knowledge, and reputations into this industry.

I saw it in Tony.

Wil.

Kyle and Kat.

Marco.

Randy.

Rafa.

Ray.

Ricky.

Jay.

John.

DJ Kung Fu.

And countless others.

I saw it in Shawn Hazen, Jim Tremayne, Jasmine, Robin, Steve, and the DJX team doing work most attendees will never completely see.

I saw it in Jay P.

I saw it in DJ A-Roc.

I saw it in Carnival.

I saw it in our friends.

I saw it in strangers.

And somewhere along the way, I realized I was looking at something that had been there the entire time.

Maybe we just don't stop long enough to recognize it.

We Are Stewards of This

So I want to leave you with something.

This industry does not belong exclusively to any one of us.

We inherited parts of it.

Others built the foundation.

Others invented techniques.

Others created equipment.

Others broke records.

Others carried crates.

Others taught us.

Others opened doors.

Others fought for opportunities we now take for granted.

And eventually, whether we want to think about it or not, somebody else will inherit what we leave behind.

That makes us stewards.

We have a responsibility to the craft.

We have a responsibility to the culture.

We have a responsibility to our history.

And we have a responsibility to each other.

Celebrate people.

Teach somebody.

Support somebody.

Document the moments.

Tell the stories.

Support the companies investing in our future.

Attend the conferences.

Ask questions.

Listen to the pioneers.

Encourage the kids.

Shake somebody's hand.

Have the hallway conversation.

And when somebody does something extraordinary, don't be afraid to tell them while they're still here to receive it.

Because tomorrow isn't promised.

DJ Big Daddy reminded me of that.

Thank you to Shawn Hazen and the entire DJX team for allowing 2 DJs 1 Mic to be part of an event with so much history and for continuing to create a place where DJs can learn, connect, discover, teach, celebrate, and grow.

Thank you to every person who sat down with us.

Thank you to every person who stopped us in the hallway.

Thank you to every vendor.

Every educator.

Every DJ.

Every parent.

Every young person brave enough to pursue this craft.

And thank you to everybody fighting to keep this culture moving forward.

Monday, I watched an empty room become DJX.

On the final day, I watched DJX become an empty room again.

But I left Atlantic City carrying something that wasn't there when I arrived.

A deeper understanding.

The equipment will change.

The software will change.

The technology will change.

The music will change.

The conferences will change.

We will change.

But underneath everything we do, there is something that must never change.

Love.

Love for the music.

Love for the craft.

Love for the culture.

Love for its history.

Love for its future.

And most importantly...

Love for each other.