When the Music Never Stops: The Entertainment Experience of DJX ‘26

By Mike Garrett

There is a side of DJX that photographs, videos, and social media clips can never completely capture.

You can photograph the showroom floor. You can record the seminars. You can take pictures of the newest equipment and watch videos of DJs performing. You can scroll through hundreds of posts afterward and get a glimpse of what happened in Atlantic City.

But a glimpse isn't the experience.

Because when you're actually there, something happens when the seminars end, the showroom begins winding down, and everybody starts asking the inevitable question:

Where are we going tonight?

That's when another side of DJX comes alive.

The entertainment isn't simply an afterthought attached to a trade show. For DJs, the entertainment can become another classroom. You watch. You listen. You study. You celebrate. You hear somebody do something that makes you turn your head and say, Wait a minute, what did he just do?

And sometimes you witness something that reminds you why you fell in love with DJing in the first place.

DJX 2026 gave me plenty of those moments.

It Started Before the Parties

Some of the entertainment didn't require waiting until nighttime.

Outside the showroom was the EV lounge, and hearing what was happening there immediately took me somewhere.

Technics 1200s.

Vinyl.

Twelve-inches.

45s.

No computers.

Straight old school.

DJs were digging into breakbeats and records that took you back to the foundations of hip-hop. And if you understand the history of this culture, you understand why those breakbeats matter.

Before many of the things we associate with hip-hop existed, DJs were finding those breaks, extending them, manipulating them, and creating something new.

So hearing those sounds at DJX wasn't simply nostalgic.

It was history talking to us through speakers.

DJ Dog Trane was one of the DJs spinning in the EV lounge, and after hearing him play, we had the opportunity to interview him. Listening to him talk about DJing only confirmed what his set had already told us.

The brother loves this craft.

Sometimes you don't have to ask.

You can hear it in somebody's hands.

The Welcome Party, and a Reminder About Reading the Room

The entertainment experience really started Monday evening with the welcome party at Ocean.

Our crew made the journey over, and if you've ever dealt with those escalators at Ocean, you already know that getting to the party can feel like part of the entertainment itself.

Those things are high as hell.

But eventually we made it.

And once again, there were DJs everywhere.

Friends.

People we hadn't seen in months.

People we may only see once a year.

Strangers striking up conversations with strangers simply because everybody has this common language called music.

I even had a great conversation with a DJ whose name I unfortunately never got.

That's one of the things I love about these events.

But that evening also reinforced something I've believed for a long time.

DJs have to play for the audience in front of them.

Sometimes we become married to our playlists.

We know what we want to play.

We know the genre we want to hear.

We know the set we planned.

But what about the people standing in front of us?

If we're supposed to be experts at reading rooms, shouldn't a room filled with DJs from different cities, backgrounds, generations, and musical cultures be an opportunity to demonstrate that ability?

Playing for DJs doesn't mean you stop reading the room.

It means you should probably read it even more carefully.

I didn't stay particularly late that night because Tuesday was going to be a long day.

And Tuesday night gave us plenty to do.

One Night, Multiple Parties, One Culture

After spending Tuesday on the showroom floor, interviewing people and taking in everything DJX had to offer, it was time for the evening events.

We attended the AlphaTheta Sunset Session, which is always a good time.

One thing I appreciate about those events is the opportunity to hear different DJs and different approaches to music.

The Carnival DJs brought another dimension because their team represents DJs from different places and backgrounds. Big shout-out to DJ Blendz, ReRe, DJ A-Rock, DJ Lady Shay, and the rest of that crew.

They're family.

Then we made our way to the event hosted by the Female DJ Council, where the ladies did what the ladies do.

They represented.

It was great hearing the women play and watching them command their space. The continued growth and visibility of women throughout the DJ industry is something we should celebrate and support, and events that intentionally create those opportunities matter.

But our night still wasn't finished.

We had also been invited to Lou's rooftop party.

So what did we do?

We walked.

About fourteen minutes.

Because apparently attending DJX means your legs are also registered attendees.

But it was worth it.

We ran into more friends, heard more good music, and enjoyed another atmosphere entirely.

That's part of the DJX experience people don't necessarily understand from looking at a schedule.

You can go from the showroom to a sunset event, from there to another party, then walk across Atlantic City to a rooftop and encounter an entirely different musical experience.

And everywhere you go, you're learning something.

The Closing Party Became Something Else

Then came Wednesday.

And this is where the entertainment portion of DJX 2026 went somewhere completely different for me.

There were several performances throughout the closing events that deserve much more than a passing mention because these weren't simply DJs filling time between scheduled activities.

They gave us something.

DJ LG is one of my good friends, someone I originally met in Chicago years ago, and I continue to enjoy watching this young brother progress.

One of the things I appreciate about LG is his diversity.

He's part of a younger generation that continues pushing forward while developing its own identity.

DJ Stacy also delivered.

I really enjoyed her set, particularly the variety and the remixes she incorporated. She gave us another interpretation of what could be done with the music.

Then DJ Matt Dodge stepped up.

And man...

the wordplay.

There were combinations he put together that made me stop and listen.

I've heard Matt perform before, and he continues pushing the needle forward. What I appreciate is the work behind what we're hearing.

Great routines don't magically happen.

Somebody thought about that combination.

Somebody heard a relationship between two records that other people didn't hear.

Somebody experimented.

Somebody practiced.

Then they presented it to us.

And Matt's performance reminded me of something else.

We need to become better at celebrating each other's creativity.

We're different.

Our musical experiences are different.

Our minds work differently.

Our influences are different.

Give multiple DJs access to the same music and equipment and, if they're truly creating, you should still get different results.

That's beautiful.

Another DJ's creativity doesn't diminish yours.

We can learn from one another without becoming one another.

Matt, my hat goes off to you.

Wonderful set.

Big Daddy: Still Showing Us How It's Done

And we cannot talk about the entertainment without talking about DJ Big Daddy.

Over 70 years old.

Still entertaining.

Still booking events.

Still contributing.

Still carrying an energy that can make you forget whatever this brother may personally be dealing with.

Earlier in the conference, he told us he had recently booked a wedding for 2028.

That's passion.

But Big Daddy's value goes beyond longevity.

There are people who have been around for a long time and spend most of their energy reminding everybody how long they've been around.

That's not Big Daddy.

He's approachable.

He's funny.

He's humble.

He loves this industry.

And that love comes through when he performs and when he talks with people.

The closing event included live elements, including a saxophone player and performers, and seeing that dimension incorporated into the presentation added another layer to the experience.

Big Daddy, I salute you.

Longevity is one thing.

Longevity while still carrying joy is something else entirely.

What DJ Larry D Did Was Not Normal

Now I need to talk about DJ Larry D.

And I don't want to casually say, "Larry D had a great set," and move on.

That wouldn't adequately describe what I saw.

Last year, Larry did something I jokingly described as E.T.-ish because I didn't know what else to call it.

It felt extraterrestrial.

This year, he gave us another extraordinary presentation.

Calling what Larry D did simply "video mixing" doesn't capture it.

There was video.

There were edits.

There was music.

There was AI.

There was storytelling.

There were different iterations of DJ culture woven into what felt, to me, almost like a DJ short film being constructed and performed in real time.

And I found myself trying to watch two shows simultaneously.

Larry was one show.

The audience was the other.

I wanted to see people's faces.

I wanted to see their reactions.

I wanted to watch them waiting for whatever was coming next.

But eventually I had a problem.

Larry's performance was so captivating that I couldn't keep watching everybody else.

I wanted to see what he was going to do next.

That's rare.

We see DJs all the time.

We're DJs.

We're around DJs.

It takes something special to make a room filled with DJs collectively stop and stare at a screen.

Larry did that.

There was even a live guitar element incorporated by another member of the AlphaTheta team using a device I had never seen presented that way.

It was creativity stacked on top of creativity.

That's why I don't want to minimize what Larry D did.

Technical ability is one thing.

Creativity is another.

But vision is something else.

Vision is seeing something that doesn't exist yet and figuring out how to make everybody else see it too.

That's what I felt like I was watching.

Larry D wasn't simply demonstrating technology.

He was asking us to reconsider the boundaries of a DJ performance.

Where does DJing end?

Where does filmmaking begin?

Where does video production enter?

Where does artificial intelligence fit?

Where does live musicianship fit?

Where does storytelling fit?

Maybe the better question is:

Why do we need boundaries at all?

Larry, I told you before, and I'm saying it again:

You need to package that up in a bottle and sell it.

Because whatever that is...

it's hot.

DJ Mell Starr: When Greatness Makes Room for Greatness

Then we moved into another portion of the evening that I will remember for a very long time.

DJ Mell Starr and friends.

I have tremendous respect for Mell Starr.

He's one of the most humble people you'll meet.

Soft-spoken.

Intelligent.

Talented beyond measure.

And just a good dude.

Watching Mell perform can be like watching an orchestra because there is so much happening within what he does.

Knowing that he lost hearing in his left ear during a flyover makes his skill even more remarkable to me.

Yet he doesn't use that as an excuse.

He found a way.

But something else about Mell Starr stood out that evening.

He didn't make everything about himself.

He created room for other people to demonstrate their greatness.

That's leadership.

That's mentorship.

That's confidence.

And brother...

he knows how to pick them.

DJ Melo D: Call Him The Metronome

First came DJ Melo D from the Beat Junkies.

Mell Starr called him The Metronome.

After watching him, I understand why.

Timing.

Timing.

Timing.

Whether Melo D was scratching, beat juggling, cutting, mixing, slamming records, or working through wordplay, everything sat where it was supposed to sit.

There were no blemishes that pulled me out of the performance.

Everything was in rhythm.

And we're not talking about baby scratches and simple cuts.

We're talking about techniques DJs spend years trying to develop.

Things DJs dream about doing cleanly.

When someone reaches that level of technical proficiency, there is a temptation to focus on how difficult the techniques are.

But difficulty alone doesn't make something musical.

What impressed me was that the technique remained connected to the music.

That's the difference.

Technique should serve the performance.

Melo D gave us a demonstration of control.

Watching him was a reminder that the fundamentals still matter.

Timing matters.

Practice matters.

Discipline matters.

And mastery is what happens when those things are repeated so many times that the difficult begins to look effortless.

Salute DJ Melo D.

That was a lesson.

Matthew Law: The Student Develops His Own Voice

Following Melo D was Matthew Law, one of Mell Starr's protégés.

And what I appreciated about Matthew was his style.

His cuts.

His selections.

His willingness to give us a mix show with variety.

Mentorship is an interesting thing.

A great teacher shouldn't necessarily produce a clone.

If everybody you teach sounds exactly like you, dresses like you, selects like you, and performs exactly like you, what have you really developed?

Great mentorship gives somebody the tools to become more fully themselves.

Watching Matthew reminded me of that.

You can recognize the discipline.

You can recognize the education.

But you also recognize the individual.

That's important because the culture moves forward through both preservation and evolution.

We teach the fundamentals.

Then we give the next person enough room to discover what they're going to do with them.

Matthew Law did his thing.

And I enjoyed it.

Before Red Alert Played One Record, Mell Starr Taught a Lesson

Then came Kool DJ Red Alert.

But before I talk about his performance, I have to talk about what Mell Starr did.

People were outside the club area on the balcony.

Talking.

Hanging out.

Doing what people do at these events.

Mell Starr stopped everything.

He told them to come inside.

Everybody.

And if they didn't come inside, he was going to close the doors.

He waited.

Five minutes.

Maybe ten.

Whatever it took.

He wanted that room full.

Why?

Because Kool DJ Red Alert was about to perform.

And Mell Starr understood something we desperately need to understand as a culture.

We have to salute our greats while they are still standing in front of us.

Don't wait for the memorial.

Don't wait for the tribute video.

Don't wait until everybody starts posting photographs saying how much somebody meant to the culture.

Tell them now.

Recognize them now.

Learn from them now.

Mell Starr made sure everybody in that room understood who was about to stand behind those decks.

And then...

he released the beast.

Kool DJ Red Alert: Class Was in Session

I had never heard Kool DJ Red Alert perform live.

I've known what he represents.

Jay and I interviewed him the previous year, and it remains one of the best interviews we've ever done.

But knowing someone's history and standing in a room while they demonstrate why that history exists are two different things.

What Kool DJ Red Alert gave us was not simply a DJ set.

It was a journey.

And the best way I can describe it is this:

It felt like somebody took you by the hand and said, "Come with me."

Then he took us around the world.

East Coast.

West Coast.

South.

Hip-hop.

Funk.

Electro-funk.

Rock.

Country.

Records you knew.

Records you didn't know.

Records you had forgotten you knew.

And somehow, the room stayed with him.

That is what open format means to me.

Open format isn't proving how many genres exist on your hard drive.

It isn't randomly jumping from one style to another simply because you can.

It's understanding how to take people from one place to another without losing them.

Red Alert did that.

He told us right up front that he wasn't a scratcher.

Mell Starr gave him a little push.

And Red gave us some scratching anyway.

Some cuts.

Some wordplay.

Mixing.

Slamming.

Working on the one.

Working around the one.

Using the microphone.

Selecting.

Reading.

Controlling.

Teaching.

I'm standing there watching a 68-year-old man move behind those decks with motor skills that looked like they belonged to somebody in his twenties.

And all I could think was:

What's the excuse?

Seriously.

What's the excuse?

The joy was still there.

The excitement was still there.

The knowledge was certainly still there.

And the room knew it.

I was fortunate because Shawn Hazen had texted me and invited me over to the booth where they were sitting. There was a ledge behind it that gave me a higher vantage point.

So I could see almost everything.

I could watch Red Alert.

I could watch the stage.

And I could watch the room.

I saw DJs reacting like kids.

I saw the excitement.

I saw DJ Stress, a.k.a. Will On, and others reacting as Red Alert kept hitting us with bomb after bomb.

These were DJs watching a DJ.

And they were losing their minds.

That's when you know something special is happening.

Then One Record Took Me Home

And then Red Alert played "No Music" by SKYY.

That record did something to me.

Because I had only heard one other DJ play it in a set.

DJ Ushay out of Dallas.

The first time I remember hearing it that way was back in the mid-'80s.

Rest in peace, brother.

So there I was in Atlantic City in 2026...

but for a moment, I wasn't.

I was somewhere else.

Somewhere decades earlier.

That's what music can do.

That's what a great DJ understands.

We talk so much about BPM.

Keys.

Transitions.

Scratches.

Stems.

Controllers.

Software.

Effects.

All of those things matter.

But there is another element that no specification sheet can measure.

Memory.

A great DJ can reach into a room, touch a memory you haven't visited in 30 or 40 years, and bring it back to life with one record.

When Red Alert played that song, I could have ascended into the clouds.

The way he presented it was breathtaking to me.

And that's when entertainment becomes something much deeper.

It becomes personal.

We Have to Salute Our Greats

Kool DJ Red Alert has been part of radio and hip-hop culture for decades.

He helped break records.

He helped artists.

He helped shape what people heard.

He helped establish pathways that generations after him have traveled.

He's a pioneer.

And yet when you meet him, what stands out is his humility.

That's why I appreciated what Mell Starr did before that performance so much.

He made the room acknowledge history.

Not history behind glass.

Not history in a documentary.

Living history.

Standing behind turntables.

Still teaching.

Still moving a room.

Still showing younger DJs what this craft can look like when knowledge, experience, selection, timing, personality, and love for music have been developing for decades.

We have to salute our greats.

Not because everything old is automatically better.

That's not the point.

We salute them because understanding where we came from gives us a stronger foundation for deciding where we're going.

And Kool DJ Red Alert helped build that foundation.

That night...

class was in session.

Two More Minutes

At one point, Red Alert had roughly two minutes remaining.

And Mell Starr basically said:

No.

Keep going.

And somehow, those final minutes felt like some of the best minutes of the night.

Nobody wanted the ride to stop.

Eventually it did.

Because every set has to end.

Then Mell Starr blessed us with roughly another fifteen minutes of his own greatness.

And that was the perfect closing chapter to an extraordinary night.

The Party Was the Classroom

That's what I want people to understand about the entertainment at DJX.

Yes, we partied.

Absolutely.

We laughed.

We danced.

We walked across Atlantic City chasing the next event.

We heard music.

We stayed out too late.

We woke up tired.

That's part of it.

But something else was happening.

We were learning.

DJ Dog Train reminded us about foundation.

The EV lounge reminded us where parts of this culture began.

The Female DJ Council reminded us why representation and opportunity matter.

The Carnival DJs showed us the value of different musical backgrounds coming together.

DJ LG and DJ Stacy showed us different approaches from today's working DJs.

Matt Dodge demonstrated creativity and wordplay.

Big Daddy demonstrated longevity and joy.

Larry D showed us what can happen when technology and imagination refuse to accept traditional boundaries.

Melo D demonstrated precision and mastery.

Matthew Law demonstrated what mentorship can produce when a student is allowed to develop an individual voice.

Mell Starr demonstrated leadership by creating space for others.

And Kool DJ Red Alert demonstrated something that can't be downloaded.

Wisdom accumulated over a lifetime.

That's entertainment.

But it's also education.

It's history.

It's mentorship.

It's inspiration.

It's community.

When the Music Never Stops

Eventually, every party ends.

The lights come up.

The last record plays.

The equipment gets packed.

People walk back to their hotels.

Then everybody flies home.

But the best performances don't actually stop when the speakers shut off.

They follow you.

A transition stays in your head.

A piece of wordplay makes you reconsider something.

A scratch makes you want to practice.

A creative presentation makes you question your own limitations.

A pioneer makes you appreciate history.

A young DJ makes you think about the future.

And one unexpected record can send you back 40 years.

That's what DJX 2026 gave me.

The entertainment wasn't simply something we did after the "important" parts of the conference were finished.

The entertainment was one of the important parts.

Because DJs learn by watching DJs.

We inspire one another.

We challenge one another.

And hopefully, we celebrate one another.

So when somebody asks me about the entertainment at DJX 2026, I could tell them about the parties.

I could tell them about the rooftop.

I could tell them about the Sunset Session.

I could tell them about the EV lounge.

I could tell them about the closing party.

But what I really want to tell them is what happened inside those experiences.

I watched innovation.

I watched mastery.

I watched mentorship.

I watched history.

I watched the future.

And sometimes, I simply stood there with a smile on my face thinking:

Damn, I love being a DJ.

That's why, long after DJX 2026 ended, the music never really stopped.

It came home with me.