Music has always been part of my life. Back in the early 2000s, I was mixing on CDs and vinyl, recording sets into MP3 whenever I could, and streaming through Shoutcast just to share the vibe with whoever tuned in. It was simple, raw, and real — no platforms, no metrics, just the joy of creating a moment.
Then life shifted. The decks went quiet. What started as a break stretched into years, then decades. I thought that era was behind me.
But in January 2023, everything changed.
My friend Federico Marin Aigster invited me to a BBQ. Nothing dramatic, nothing planned — just a casual hangout. While he was grilling, he asked me if I could help him with the deck he had set up. I figured I’d play a couple of tracks, maybe warm up the vibe a bit.
But those “few tracks” turned into a full night session.
We mixed, we laughed, we talked about the old days. The energy felt familiar, like a part of myself waking up after a long sleep. That night wasn’t just fun — it was the spark. Afterward, we exchanged messages about mixing again, joking about how we should do it more often.
A few days later, Federico came over to my house to try my new Pioneer DDJ‑FLX6. He tested it, smiled, and told me I still had it. That moment — him standing there, encouraging me, reconnecting through music — sealed the deal.
From that day forward, everything accelerated. I upgraded to the DDJ‑FLX10 by March. I started with Serato, then switched to rekordbox because I wanted to grow and do things the way the pros do. And on July 5th, 2023, I uploaded my first YouTube mix — the official beginning of a new era.
Since then, DJing has become my retreat. A place where I blend today’s tracks with the gems of the past. A space where I disconnect from the grind and reconnect with something real. Every mix carries pieces of who I was in the 2000s and who I’ve become today.
And all of it traces back to Federico.
On July 25th, 2026, Federico passed away. Losing him left a silence no track can fill. But his impact lives inside every mix I upload. Every transition, every playlist, every late-night session is touched by the moment he gave me — the night he casually asked me to help him with the deck, and unknowingly reignited a passion I thought I’d lost.
So when you listen to my sets, know this:
They’re not just mixes. They’re memories. They’re gratitude. They’re a tribute.
To the friend who turned a BBQ into a full night of music. To the spark that came from a simple question: “Can you help me with the deck?” To the day he stood in my house, testing my new gear, encouraging me without even trying. To the music that keeps us connected long after people are gone.
RIP Federico Marin Aigster. Your spark still lights the booth.
