From the Booth to the Studio: My Journey from DJ to Producer By JONQPiD

There’s a moment in every DJ’s journey when pressing play just isn’t enough anymore.

You’ve mastered the crowd. You’ve learned how to ride the energy in the room, dropping tracks like a surgeon with a beat scalpel. But after years of spinning other people’s records, a quiet voice starts asking: What if the next track… was mine?

That was the turning point for me.

Reading Last Night a DJ Saved My Life reminded me I’m part of a long tradition of DJs who eventually felt that pull. DJs like Ron Hardy, Tony Humphries, and DJ Spinna didn’t just shape the party—they shaped the sound of an era by stepping into the studio and crafting music that reflected their unique energy behind the decks. For them, and now for me, the booth was a starting point—not a limit.

The Spark That Shifted Everything

For me, the shift from DJ to producer wasn’t just about adding “producer” to my title. It came from a deeper urge to express the energy I experience live in a way that could live on beyond the night. I wanted to build my own tracks—tracks that had the same power to move a room, but with my fingerprints all over them.

I was remixing on the fly during sets, slicing percussion, looping hooks, dropping acapellas over unexpected rhythms. People would ask, “What version is that?” And the answer was: mine—but only in the moment.

Eventually, I wanted those moments to exist outside of the club, outside of the live mix. I wanted people to be able to find that track again the next day, ride with it, stream it, or use it in their own lives. That’s what pulled me into production.

The Transition from Live to Studio

One of the biggest realizations I’ve had is this: my best tracks are born out of the same instincts I use when DJing live.

For example, I once layered a hard-edged hip-hop a cappella over a deep Afrohouse instrumental during a club set. The room exploded. That moment eventually became the DNA for a track I’m working on now—where the juxtaposition of smooth tribal drums and raw lyricism creates something both grounded and elevated.

The transition to production was never about abandoning the live energy—it was about capturing it.

When I start a new track, I ask: Could I drop this mid-set and make people lose their minds? If the answer’s no, I go back in.

The Technical and Mental Shift

Of course, the switch isn’t always smooth. Production requires a whole different rhythm: patience, layering, subtlety, and an entirely new learning curve. Where DJing gives you instant feedback, production asks for solitude and vision.

At first, I struggled with finishing tracks. I’d start strong—great groove, tight drum pattern—but halfway through I’d get stuck. It took time to develop the same flow in the studio that I had behind the decks.

My solution? Treat production like a live set. I break my tracks into chapters—intro, build, peak, comedown—just like I would when structuring a party. And I use tricks from my sets, like EQ dips or filter sweeps, to build tension in the arrangement. I even imagine my audience, visualize how they’d react to each section, and let that guide me.

Current Projects That Reflect the Evolution

Right now, I’m developing a full-length Afro-Tech-House album that tells a story through sound. Each track is a scene—some high-energy, others more meditative. I’m layering in vocal samples, cinematic elements, and percussion rooted in both traditional African rhythms and modern club culture.

This isn’t just music to dance to—it’s music with dimension.

One of my tracks, “Dance for Rain,” uses minimalist drum patterns and echoing chants to capture the feeling of hope during drought—a metaphor for creative burnout and rebirth. Another track, “Only One Kiss,” blends Brazilian Funk grooves with techno synths, reflecting my journey through multicultural dance floors.

All of it ties back to the same principle: music is a feeling first, a formula second.

What I’ve Learned So Far

The studio has taught me that silence is as important as sound. That layers matter. That not every track needs a hook—but it does need a heartbeat.

I’ve learned to stop trying to impress other producers and focus on moving people. Just like in DJing, if it doesn’t connect, it doesn’t matter how technically perfect it is.

I’ve also realized that being a Black artist in the DJ/producer space means I carry a legacy. It’s a continuation of what Ron Hardy, Tony Humphries, and DJ Spinna built—spaces where rhythm, culture, and emotion collide in new forms. Spaces where we don’t just perform—we shape the culture.

The Next Chapter

If DJing was the art of reading the room, production is the art of creating the room.

So to all my fellow DJs who feel that itch—who find themselves humming basslines while brushing their teeth or looping kick drums in their heads during dinner—I say this:

Don’t wait for someone else to make the track you wish existed. Make it yourself.

Your booth isn’t a cage—it’s a launchpad.

And if no one’s told you today—

Remember, you are loved.

— JON QPiD