I wasn’t sure if I was going to talk about it. Hell, I wasn’t even sure if I was going to make this episode.
But here it is — The 11th Episode of Velvet Nation. And here I am, still standing. Still mixing. Still figuring out how to live in a body that keeps rewriting the rules without warning.
A few weeks ago, I got the news: my MS has progressed. It’s not catastrophic. I’m not falling apart. But things are changing — subtly, stubbornly. The kind of change you feel in your bones before your brain catches up. The kind that wears on you emotionally, even before it shows up on scans or in symptoms. And truthfully? It hit me like a fucking freight train.
So I did what I always do when I can’t find the words — I found the music.
This episode of Velvet Nation is different. It’s not just a set. It’s a transmission. A journal entry written in beats and breakdowns. A love letter to resilience. A sonic scream into the void, and a whispered reminder to myself that I’m still here.
The Pulse of the Set
It opens with Ahmet Kilic’s “As The Rush Comes” — slow, hypnotic, almost mournful. That’s how the news felt. A rush. A wave. A quiet unraveling.
Then “Such Is Life,” remixed with that glimmer of hope buried in melancholy. “This Is What It Feels Like” because… yeah. That’s exactly what it fucking feels like. Every track after that swings between light and dark — tension and release — until we land in the familiar ache of “Enjoy The Silence.” Because sometimes silence is the only answer. But it’s also where I find the most truth.
By the time we hit Oceanlab’s “Sky Falls Down”, I’m not DJing anymore. I’m praying. I’m pleading. I’m reclaiming something — control, maybe. Or connection. Or just the will to keep moving.
Trance Therapy
People love to talk about how healing music is. How cathartic. But unless you’ve needed it to survive, you don’t get it.
I wasn’t playing these songs for a crowd. I was playing them for my own damn sanity.
I wasn’t curating a vibe — I was holding on. Gripping the fader like a lifeline, letting the melody say the things I couldn’t. The music didn’t fix anything. But it helped me feel everything. And that’s enough.
Still Here. Still Dancing.
So yeah — this mix is heavier than most. But it’s honest. It’s where I’m at right now. And if you’ve ever gotten bad news, felt your body betray you, or just needed a soundtrack for falling apart and coming back together again… this one’s for you.
Thank you for being here. For listening. For dancing through the dark with me.
Because even when the sky falls down, we dance.
