British DJ/producer Hot Since 82 (a.k.a. Daley Padley) swiftly become a dance festival and club staple around the world with dark and moody tracks that were crafted with a sweaty dancefloor in mind. His rise came shortly after he began releasing bangers in the 2010s—there was his 2013 emotive melodic house jam "Shadows," his massive remix of Green Velvet's summer 2013 dancefloor epic "Bigger Than Prince" and 2015's tech house gem "Veins" (still one of the top purchased tracks on his Beatport), to name a few. He's since served up clubby remixes for RÜFÜS DU SOL, Foals and Joe Goddard of Hot Chip. He's also released many more singles and completed three residencies at Ibiza's legendary dance club Pacha.

Yet a lot has changed for him in recent years. He faced a huge tragedy when his best friend died by suicide in 2017, just two weeks prior to kicking off his debut Ibiza residency. To help himself cope with the loss, Padley created a beautifully emotive EP in honor of his friend: 2019's 8-track, whose proceeds he donated to U.K. mental health organization MIND. Not long after, he began working on his debut full-length album, Recovery, released Nov. 27 on his Knee Deep In Sound label.

"[The album] was more about picking yourself up and getting yourself in a better head space. If Recovery is anything, it's more of a healing album," the "Nightfall" producer recently told GRAMMY.com. He also talks diving deep into the creative process of the album—including the Boy George track that was five years in the making, what he thinks makes a great dance track and more.

You just dropped your full-length debut, Recovery. Congrats!

Thank you.

What has it felt like to share this project with the world, particularly in 2020, the year we can't dance together?

Weirdly enough, the album was never going to be aimed fully at the dancefloor. The tracks are not seven, eight, nine minutes long like you would expect a dance record to be. They're all pretty short, around four minutes, five minutes. It was more like a real full album. I don't think people really listen to six, seven-minute songs on Spotify. With the rise of streaming platforms, music's so disposable now. I'm sure there's some algorithm or whatever that tells you three-minute records will do a hell of a lot better than long dancefloor ones. With that in mind, I did shorten the tracks. They weren't specifically meant for a dancefloor, but they are made for the dancefloor if that makes any kind of sense.

It feels great to have it out. Obviously, no one's in clubs right now, no one's dancing, but at the same time music is such a big thing. It's such a personal thing. It can really elevate or decrease your mood. We all need positive music right now ... 

It does feel like albums are becoming a bit more commonplace in dance music. I'm curious what caused you to want to release a proper album, and how the creative process felt different for you versus when you've released EPs and singles in the past?

I think definitely with the streaming platforms, it's really accessible to get your headspace in a full-scale album where you can visually see which track goes after each of them. Sometimes when you're buying music on Beatport you just buy one, two or three of the tracks out of 13, and you don't really understand the full philosophy behind why the tracks are scheduled in a certain position. The ethos behind the whole album is lost when you buy individual MP3s. With streaming services, obviously, you can choose which one you're going to play, but ultimately, it's all there.

I like the challenge as well. I write music at home. I write a lot of music. I think the whole concept of an album tells a stronger tale than one or two tracks on an EP. I've been writing dancefloor bangers for forever really. I guess it comes with maturity because with an album you are putting yourself out there for criticism because it's not 13 tracks of banging dancefloor records. I tried different things with different musicians—slower BPMs, working with live musicians like keyboard players, saxophonists—and different instrumentation which I wouldn't use before. The whole idea of it is exciting to me. I've got to keep it interesting for myself, never mind the people buying the music and dancing to it. An album just works for me. If you would have asked me 20 years ago if I'd be writing an album, I'd think you were crazy. Could I even do something like that? Now I've done it and it's out, and people seem to be enjoying it.

The best thing about this album is no two tracks are the same. You ask one person what their favorite record is and they'll tell you one track and you ask someone else and it's a totally different one. I've never had that with any of the projects I've done before. There'd always be one or two tracks that everyone headed towards. With this project, it's really sporadic. I love that.

What do you feel like the journey or the through-line is?

The name of the [title] track, "Recovery," I named it last year when I finished the 8-track album, which was a personal project. My best friend passed away and the 8-track was dedicated to him. It was very much that kind of project [that] definitely told a tale throughout it. Coming back on something like that, Recovery just felt like it made sense, title-wise anyway. It was more about picking yourself up and getting yourself in a better headspace. If Recovery is anything, it's more of a healing album.

I guess the next project after this would be strictly for the dancefloor, but I think I'm going to take a year off. I'm definitely not going to write an album next year. I think I'll probably return to doing EPs and that next year, which is quite exciting now. After doing my two albums consecutively, it's quite exciting for me now to get back in the studio and just make some dark stuff.

"It was more about picking yourself up and getting yourself in a better head space. If Recovery is anything, it's more of a healing album."

How long did it take to make the album?

Actually, it takes me forever [to make an album]. Writing a track is easy and I can do it in a few hours. I'm just meticulous and I never stop rehashing it, just going over it. Ninety percent of the time, the first version was better than the twentieth version. I need to know when to stop. My wife goes insane with me because she knows when it's finished. I end up just ruining the whole record. It wasn't as bad this time around. 8-track was a nightmare because it was a personal project and I wanted to do the best that I possibly could. It was a tough project and was a tough period. With Recovery, I made the tracks quite easily and let them go. In terms of "it's finished," wasn't as hard. In January I started properly on it.

I think most creative people can relate to the perfectionist struggle.

They're your babies for a short period of time, aren't they? It is hard to let them go.

I love the early U.K. rave vibes on "Body Control"—and with Boy George, what! I'm curious about the inspiration going into it, the creative journey of bringing him and Jamie Jones in, and how it all came together.

I was supposed to do a record with Boy George about five or six years ago. We were going back and forth for quite some time. I could never write the right record that really worked for his voice. It had to be sassy but I kept writing something too dark. We shelved it for a little while. I still had all of the vocals he sent me on my computer, waiting for the right moment. With the new project, I thought it was a great way to get this track finished and, obviously, it would look great on the album to feature somebody so iconic like George. I was working on some bass lines and made a super minimalistic, upbeat demo. I sent it to George and he said, "I love this." Then, I went back to my old self and started going over and over it and just making the record worse.

That's when I sent it to Jamie, and he said he loved it. So I asked, "Do you want to get on board? Just need a bit of help on the breakdown and whatnot." I gave it to Jamie and he had a week or two on it and sent me some stems back. Then it all felt quite organic between the three of us, we finished it off. It's not a super long track. It's only just under four minutes, but I don't think a track like that needs to be any longer. It tells a tale, it does its thing and that's that. I'm really happy we managed to get it all done. It's kind of the unlikeliest of collaborations. George being a British icon, it's amazing. Actually, my dad called me the other day and he was just blown away that I managed to get Boy George on the record because he doesn't really know the ins and outs of the success I've had with DJing and what not. I think it was a bit of a wake-up call for him. He was buzzing.

Watch: GRAMMY Rewind: Watch Boy George & Culture Club Win Best New Artist In 1984

I love that your dad was like, "Okay, you've made it. Boy George."

Yeah. That's basically what did it. He was at work and he called me and he was like, "Wow, this is insane." [Laughs.]

I also want to talk about "Naboo"—I mean, Miss Kittin is also iconic. What was on your mind when you were creating the beat? And when you sent it to her, did she then come up with the lyrics on her own?

I actually made three tracks, and they're basically the same, over a day or two. I wanted to make something kind of nu disco, kind of an indie vibe, kind of Todd Terje. I had this vision in my head. I saw Todd play in Barcelona in 2013 in this old castle and he was playing disco and everyone was losing their mind. It was amazing. I wanted to make something like futuristic disco, just something totally different that people wouldn't think was a Hot Since 82 record. That's how I set about it. Then I got a little catchy "do do do do" [hums beat], super simple but it just works.

As quick as it was, I needed somebody to elevate it, and I just thought of Miss Kittin straight away. We're friends already, and she's a fellow sci-fi nerd. She loves Star Wars—she has a lightsaber tattooed on her arm—and we get along really well. She's one of the sweetest women in the world. She's an icon in her own right. I thought, "How amazing would it be to not only put a record out that doesn't sound like me, but to feature somebody that's known as a techno/electronic icon legend." She's been putting music out forever.

She just said, "Look, I don't play your music, but I love you. Let's do it. I think this is really interesting." She literally did it in an afternoon. I sent her the track and a couple of hours later she sent me a voice memo. I was like, "This is amazing. This is exactly what it needs to be. Don't take it too seriously. Let's have a bit of fun with it. Life's too serious anyway." I just asked her to say a couple of little more things. The next day she sent it to me acapella and then I finished it that week. When records and collaborations work like that, they're always the best ones as well. I really like that one. "Naboo" is the record that people are surprised by and the Boy George one as well, but I think this track really is a "wow" kind of thing because it doesn't sound like me, which is great.

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I love that. Nu disco meets Star Wars meets techno legend.

It doesn't make sense, does it? But it works.

Recently, you did the hot air balloon set which looked super fun.

Oh my god. I survived.

What did that feel like for you?

It was freezing at about five degrees. It was 5 a.m. when I first got there and [it was] pitch black. It was 7 a.m. when we finally went up in the air. The basket was small and we had three people in there. The guy who is steering it was an absolute legend. He was off his head, seriously. Obviously, I've got to play and it was super loud. He always seemed to pull it when I was mixing. It was really difficult to mix. There's another dude who's twice the size of me to my right who was the guy from Minirig that installed the sound system in there. They did a great job, by the way. He needed to stay there just in case we had a power issue. My manager told me that a lot of people on social media [were] like, "Why have you hidden this guy?" It's like, "Dude, it's the sound guy, he's gotta fix it."

Anyway, it was a very unique experience. Definitely ticked it off the bucket list. I won't be in a rush to do it again. It was scary! Let me explain: The thing is because I'm a short dude they put a step in the middle, one of those Reebok steppers they use for fitness classes. It was wet outside so the whole basket was soaking. I wasn't strapped in, there was no harness. I was elevated above the basket, so if I fell back I literally would have tipped over and hit my head on the back of the basket. Seriously. If you notice, I'm mixing while holding on. At the same time, when you're up there it's the most beautiful feeling ever. It really is. You probably could tell that I'm like a little kid on Christmas.

Annie Mac just named your track "Rules" her Hottest Record in the World. I want to know what your favorite track by another artist is right now.

In general? In the last two days, I've been listening to, on Spotify, a playlist called R&B of the '90s. It's super cheesy R&B. All I've been listening to is my album. I need to listen to something completely different, so I've just been listening to loads of '90s R&B. That's been rocking my world this week. If you're looking for a new artist, I couldn't tell you one. I can't find a new album that I like. Usually, I'm really lucky and I go on Spotify and find an album and I absolutely obliterate it. This year, I've not been able to find one album I love. I don't know why.

What do you think makes a great dance track?

A track that takes your mind somewhere else. Music's made for emotion, isn't it? If I'm on the dancefloor I want a track to take me somewhere. I think a good record has to have a good lead, something that you can sing along to a little bit. I like vocals in records—not on every record, but I think a vocal will always elevate it. If I can leave the club at the end of the night and still be humming that lead sound or vocal then that's a hit record, I think. I try and inject both of those kinds of things into my music.

What's your biggest hope for 2021?

Just to put all this crap behind us. It's been dark. The last month has been dark. The last month has dragged on more than the rest of the summer and that's probably because I've not been able to go out and go to the gym. I feel better now, but just the normality of going out and eating and just doing normal things with family and friends—to just say goodbye to this year.

It's not all been a disaster. We had a baby four months ago. It's been great being at home and co-parenting. We want to take him out and show him off and do all the things. The best that we can hope for now is for everyone to get better, the vaccines to work, everyone to stay healthy and just live a normal life. You don't realize what you miss until it's gone, do you? Some of the stupidest, tiniest little things.

Brandon Lucas Talks Staying Hopeful, Working With Dr. Cornel West & Empowering Dance Producers Of Color

Curtis Jones is a dance music legend, whose multiple monikers only begin to demonstrate his deep and varied influence in the genre.

Jones has been active as a producer and DJ for decades, and is among a cadre of dance music acts forging a connection between the genre's origins and its modern iterations. Crucially, he  joined Chicago house legends Honey Dijon and Terry Hunter on Beyoncé's house-infused RENAISSANCE, providing a sample for "Cozy." He’s also produced tracks with house favorites Chris Lake and Oliver Heldens, and DJed with Dom Dolla and John Summit.

Jones contributed to the aforementioned collaborations, young and old, as Green Velvet. He’s been releasing dance hits like "Flash" and "Answering Machine" under that name since the mid- '90s. He is also currently a staple of the live circuit, his signature green mohawk vibing in clubs and festivals around the globe — including at his own La La Land parties in Los Angeles, Denver, Orlando, and elsewhere.

Green Velvet is appropriately braggadocious, even releasing the popular "Bigger Than Prince" in 2013. But by the time Jones had released the heavy-grooving tech house track, his artistry had been percolating for decades as Cajmere.

Where Green Velvet releases lean into acid house and Detroit techno, Cajmere is all about the traditional house sound of Jones’ hometown of Chicago. When Jones first debuted Cajmere in 1991, Chicago’s now-historic reputation for house music was still developing. Decades after the original release, Cajmere tracks like "Percolator,” have sustained the Windy City sound via remixes by prominent house artists like Will Clarke, Jamie Jones, and Claude VonStroke.

"I love doing music under both of my aliases, so it’s great when fans discover the truth,” Jones tells GRAMMY.com over email. Often, Jones performs as Cajmere to open his La La Land parties, and closes as Green Velvet. 

But beyond a few scattered performances and new tracks, Cajmere has remained dormant while Green Velvet became a worldwide headliner, topping bills in Mexico City, Toronto, Bogotá and other international dance destinations. He’s only shared two original releases as Cajmere since 2016: "Baby Talk,” and "Love Foundation,” a co-production with fellow veteran Chicago producer/DJ Gene Farris.

This year, Jones is reviving Cajmere to headliner status with his new live event series, Legends. First held in March in Miami, Jones' Legends aims to highlight other dance music legends, from Detroit techno pioneers Stacey Pullen and Carl Craig, to Chicago house maven Marshall Jefferson. 

"My intention is to shine a light on those who sacrificed so much to keep house music alive," Jones writes. "The sad reality is that most of the legendary artists aren’t celebrated or compensated as well as they should be."

Given that dance music came into the popular music zeitgeist relatively recently, the originators of the genre — like the artists Jones booked for his Legends party — are still in their prime. Giving them space to perform allows them to apply the same innovation they had in the early '90s in 2024.

Jones says the Miami Legends launch was an amazing success."Seeing the passion everyone, young and old, displayed was so inspiring."

Curtis Jones, center, DJs at the Miami Legends party ┃Courtesy of the artist

The first Legends party also served as a celebration of Cajual Records, the label Jones launched in 1992 as a home for his Cajmere music. Over the past three decades, Cajual has also released tracks from dance music veterans such as Riva Starr, as well as contemporary tastemakers like Sonny Fodera and DJ E-Clyps. 

Furthermore, Jones’ partnership with revered singers such as Russoul and Dajae (the latter of whom still performs with him to this day) on Cajual releases like "Say U Will” and "Waterfall” helped to define the vocal-house style.

Like the Cajmere project, Cajual Records has been moving slower in recent years. The label has only shared four releases since 2018. True to form, though, Jones started another label; Relief Records, the home of Green Velvet's music, shared 10 releases in 2023 alone.

Jones says he's been particularly prolific as Green Velvet because "the genres of tech house and techno have allowed me the creative freedom I require as an artist."

Now Jones is making "loads of music” as Cajmere again and recently signed a new distribution deal for Cajual Records. The true sound of Chicago is resonating with audiences in 2024, Jones says, adding "it's nice that house is making a comeback."

Jones remembers when house music was especially unpopular. He used to call radio stations in the '80s to play tracks like Jamie Principle's underground classic "Waiting On My Angel,” only to be told they didn’t play house music whatsoever. In 2024, house music records like FISHER’s "Losing It” were certified gold, and received nominations for Best Dance Recording at the 66th GRAMMY Awards. Jones is embracing this popularity with open arms.

Read more: The Rise Of Underground House: How Artists Like Fisher & Acraze Have Taken Tech House, Other Electronic Genres From Indie To EDC

"The new audience it’s attracting is excited to hear unique underground-style house records now. This is perfect for my Cajmere sets,” Jones says. "I never saw Green Velvet being more popular than Cajmere, and both sounds being as popular as they are even today.” 

While Jones is finding success in his own artistic endeavors, he points to a general lack of appreciation for Black dance artists in festival bookings. Looking at the run-of-show for ARC Festival, a festival in Chicago dedicated to house and techno music, legendary artists play some of the earliest slots. 

For the 2023 edition, Carl Craig played at 3 p.m on Saturday while the young, white John Summit, closed the festival the same night. In 2021, the acid house inventor, Chicago’s DJ Pierre, played the opening set at 2 p.m. on Saturday, while FISHER, another younger white artist, was the headliner.

In 2020, Marshall Jefferson penned an op-ed in Mixmag about the losing battle he is fighting as a Black DJ from the '90s. He mentions that younger white artists often receive upwards of $250,000 for one gig, whereas he receives around $2,000, despite the fact that he still DJs to packed crowds 30 years after he started.

Jones is doing his part to even the playing field with Legends, and according to him, things are going well after the first edition. "Seeing how much respect the fans have for the Legends was so special,” Jones says. "Hopefully they become trendy again.” 

The story of Curtis Jones is already one of legend, but it is far from over. "I feel it’s my duty to continue to make creative and innovative tracks as well as musical events. I love shining the light on new upcoming and emerging artists as well as giving the originators their proper dues,” Jones says. 

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Since Nia Archives came on the scene in 2020, she has been making noise.

The 24-year-old native of Northern England produces jungle — the dance subgenre known for its loud, raucous breakbeats — and her achievements in her short career (figuratively) match the volume of her chosen style.

Over four years, Nia Archives has released tracks with tens of millions of Spotify streams like "Headz Gone West" and "Sober Feelz," started her own event series, Up Ya Archives, and become friends with the jungle originator Goldie. Nia also closed a stage at Coachella 2023, and opened for Beyoncé during the London RENAISSANCE tour show.

Nia’s also made significant strides for equality in dance music. In 2022, she wrote a letter to Britain’s MOBO (Music Of Black Origin) Awards imploring them to include a dance and electronic music category. In response, not only did they add the category that same year, but Nia won it.

For as much noise as she’s made in recent years, Nia always makes room in her life for contrast. Out April 12, Nia Archives' debut album, Silence Is Loud, the singer, producer, and DJ shows that there is just as much power in the quiet.

"Silence can be weakness for some people: You didn't say what you wanted to say; you were too weak to make noise," Nia tells GRAMMY.com. "But it can also be powerful. Keeping your silence. Holding your tongue and not saying what might not have been beneficial." 

This contrast is central to Nia’s music, and sees new heights on Silence. Her sweet, ringing voice counters the heaviness of jungle beats, while lighter genres are layered over fast-moving breaks. On tracks "Cards On The Table" and "Out of Options," the melodic foundation is built on Britpop-esque acoustic guitar chords. On the album's title track, Nia contrasts massive kick drums and high-pitched squeals, with softer, heartfelt lyrics detailing her dependence on her little brother.

GRAMMY.com spoke to Nia Archives about finding balance in contrast, her writing process, and making noise in the near-silent U.S. jungle scene.

This interview has been edited for clarity.

The hallmark of jungle music is busy breakbeats. How do you incorporate the concept of silence into the genre?

Jungle is so chaotic and intense. That's one of the things I've always loved about the music — the hectic drum patterns. But in my music, the songwriting is always quite emotional with a lot of meaning in it. Bringing the two together always makes something quite interesting. 

With this project, I really wanted to focus on songwriting. I took the time to research the great songwriters from the Beatles to Amy Winehouse, Radiohead, Blur. Kings of Leon were a huge inspiration to me throughout this project as well. 

In the past, a lot of music I was writing was quite surface-level. I wasn't going as inward as I could; maybe out of fear. The process of this project was different. 

I'd write the songs in bed in the morning, and then make the drum patterns on my laptop. I’d take my little demo [to my friend and producer Ethan P. Flynn] and we’d make the song in like three hours. That process really worked for me because it meant I could really get deep. 

I'd write loads of sh-t lyrics before I got to the good lyrics. In studios, it’s hard to get all the rubbish thoughts in your head and say them in front of people. So I quite enjoyed the privacy of writing in bed and taking it to Ethan. We’d just have fun and bang out all the tunes. 

How did the work of the Beatles and Radiohead manifest when you were making the album?

I've got really eclectic taste in music. I love jungle, that's my bread and butter, but I’ve always found fun in fusing genres together to make something new. 

I really enjoy deep-diving into the Beatles, Blur or Radiohead, [and] listening to the structures and the instrument choices. There are certain things that make them what they are, especially Blur with Britpop. I was listening to the Ronettes and a lot of Motown. I went to Detroit last year, and I got to go to the Motown Museum. I found that really inspiring; those productions, it's crazy what they did with what they had.

I'll never be able to make music how the people that I listen to make it — especially when you bring in jungle beats and 170 BPM. It's always gonna be a slightly off-kilter version of the original inspiration. But I think that makes something quite fun and unique.

Blur's Damon Albarn also leads Gorillaz, opening him up to all manner of collaborations. What would you think about being on a Gorillaz track at some point?

It'd be a dream come true! If there's anybody that I'm trying to get to listen to my album. It's definitely Damon Albarn. I'm actually gonna send him an unsolicited vinyl just because I really love his music. He's an incredible musician, artist, everything. He's a big inspiration to me.

You’ve said in previous interviews that jungle is "anything over a breakbeat." Why do you think contrasting sounds can fit so well over a breakbeat?

I think jungle, especially in the '90s, was so futuristic. The breaks themselves, depending on how you construct them, are so versatile. The breaks have so much room to go in whatever direction you want. You can go really heavy, or you can go really light and atmospheric. 

All of the original junglists have their own style. They weren't all trying to be the same. They were very strong in their identity, which is one of the other things I love about it.

What kind of modern music are you excited about integrating into jungle?

I quite like a lot of happy hardcore stuff, which is not new. I really enjoy those melodies [and you don't really hear that sound as much. I really love disco; I'd like to do something like that. 

You’re one of the only artists, if not the only jungle artist of this generation who has built an audience in the U.S. You’ve played Coachella and headlined U.S. tours. How does it feel to be a driving force in introducing jungle to America?

Older generations know about jungle. But I feel like a lot of the young kids in the U.S. are definitely discovering it, which is super exciting. It's really cool to build community in America as well. Every time I've played in America I get the proper ravers down. 

A big part of jungle is the culture and the community that comes with it. We have such a rich culture in the UK; we're kind of spoiled. Whereas in America it feels like people who like that music, they're still building [community].

I love playing in New York cause they've got a lot of new-gen junglists. There's a few new producers who are like 20-21 [years old] who I always hang out with when I go to New York. It's really cool to see their take on jungle, 'cause the American producers that I know have a different view of it.

In the UK we have so many jungle nights and so many raves constantly. In America, those jungle nights feel quite special and one-off. I feel really excited to keep coming back and keep building that community in America. I'm excited to see all the new producers that come up in the next couple of years, as well.

Have you supported any new American junglists by inviting them to perform at an Up Ya Archives party or playing out their tracks live?

There's a kid called Dazegxd. I got him on my Lot Radio takeover for Up Ya Archives. Then he actually played at the Knockdown Center [in Queens, NY] for me which was amazing.

I've booked him to play his first London show at an Up Ya Archives party. That's a really meaningful connection to me 'cause he's quite young and he's so excited about the music; he's proper geeking out about jungle. I love people like that because I'm also a geek of this music.

I'm looking forward to meeting more people like that. I love creating friendships and relationships with people and getting them to play my parties. 

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Where do you see your career, and jungle as a whole, going in the future?

I'd love to keep building on what I'm doing. My album, I'm hoping, is my flag in the sand moment for who I am as an album artist. There's a lot of fusions, and I'm hoping that people can hear it and understand where I'm trying to go.

I hope to make more albums and keep traveling the world. I've got a lot of exciting touring coming up this year. If I can do what I'm doing now, but a bit better in five years, I'll be a very happy person. 

My goal in life, similar to Goldie, is to do what I'm doing for the rest of my life. They've been doing it for 30 years. People come and go, but they've held it down for as long as they have, and they're still as relevant as they were 30 years ago.

That's what I want in my career. To still be able to play music and make music when I'm like 50. That is the real goal.

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The album cover photo for Mount Kimbie’s fourth LP, The Sunset Violent, captures a mundane yet curious slice of life: A car nearly tipped over and abandoned on the side of a road lined with towering cornfields. According to members Kai Campos and Dom Maker, it was taken by photographer T-Bone Fletcher as part of a project documenting his travels across the U.S. 

"There was something so peculiar about the whole scene," Maker tells GRAMMY.com, "and just kind of oddly unsettling whilst being quite peaceful at the same time." Adds Campos, "It's just such a great start to a story as well."

The making of The Sunset Violent could be its own arthouse film. In 2021, the two Brits drove to the California desert at the height of summer. Their AirBnB, with its cornhole board and ping-pong table, possessed the energy of an old frat house. The horizons were endless; entertainment options were less so, which provided the focus they needed to create. Six weeks of melting heat, arid landscapes, and wandering imaginations became sun-baked into the album’s nine tracks  — a collection of surrealist short stories, hazy guitars, and indie-rock textures that feel vast, almost exposing, and deeply rooted in its space.

"I think when you see the horizon just go on forever, it does something to your brain that creates space for ideas," Campos says. "It's definitely the most American record we've made."

Those Yucca Valley creations seem a world away from the London dubstep scene in which Maker and Campos launched Mount Kimbie. Their 2010 debut LP Crooks & Lovers pushed genre boundaries through delicate and intricate electronic compositions more suited for headphones than subwoofer-rattling. Their next two albums incorporated live instruments, original vocals, and more traditional song structure, and with live shows a bigger focus, they recruited drummer Marc Pell and keyboardist Andrea Balency-Béarn for their touring band. 

Maker and Campos' paths even diverged for a time. Maker relocated to Los Angeles in 2016 and produced for James Blake, Jay-Z, Travis Scott, and others, while Campos turned to DJing. On their 2022 double album MK 3.5: Die Cuts | City Planning, each worked on his half independently of the other, building two worlds inhabited by separate sonic ecosystems.

Their desert reunion showed them the way forward, together, to a sound and style they "want to keep doing more of, which we haven't really had before," Maker says. That included Pell and Balency-Béarn officially joining Mount Kimbie, and Maker returning to London.

Ahead of the album’s April 5 release, Maker and Campos sat down with GRAMMY.com to chronicle their "inevitable" journey to The Sunset Violent.

This Q&A has been edited for length and clarity.

Dom, it’s funny that you made this album, one so rooted in California, right before moving back to London. Is it me or are California albums a rite of passage for bands these days?

Dom Maker: It’s quite strange because we didn't really attach that much to the trip to California when we were out there. But in retrospect, and in actually speaking about this record in interviews and with friends, we started to realize how much that experience really bled into it; sort of the end of an era there for me. So it felt good to come away with a document of that period of time in my life.

Kai Campos: Like Dom said, we hadn't really considered how American in aesthetic it was. I think when you grow up in the UK and other parts of the world, you kind of inherit a lot of American culture at the same time, so you're always having this slightly removed relationship with it. The guitar music that I listened to when I was thinking about this album was mostly American, and it was just an interesting place to think about writing from. Over the last 10 years or longer, [we have] been so associated with London, so it was interesting to remove ourselves from that familiar situation in some ways.

That area of California in particular, so close to L.A., is very accessible and you can be there in a couple of hours in the car. At the same time, it feels really remote and unique and special, the landscapes and stuff like that. 

Can you tell me more about the guitar music you were listening to while making this album?

Campos: Sometimes there's songs or bands that I’ll hear one time, years and years before, and it'll always be in my head that I'm going to try and take whatever experience I had from listening to that and try and make some work. So there's all these little bits and pieces that collect over the years until there's enough of a space where I feel like, okay, I feel like I have a voice in this. Sometimes it's just one song from a band. There’s a track called "Rena" by Sonic Youth that I heard more than a decade ago that’s always been in the back of my head: One day, I'm going to try and rip that off.

Then there's other things to do with the sound of the guitars. There's a band called Land of Talk that has this super flat, compressed guitar sound that just sparked something in my head. And then more jam band, almost comical American guitar music, like NRBQ. All of these things just sit around in the soup in your brain until you find a way to articulate them yourself. I think the record in general is the friction between being British and how you interact with American culture in general.

Can you expand on that?

Campos: When you're a kid in the UK — I'm thinking early to mid-'90s — America is a bit of a fairytale, and it seems so shiny and exciting. Obviously, because it's a real place, it's way more complicated than that. And so there's a little bit of the fairytale kind of crumbling. At the same time [there's] Dom's perspective as somebody who had been living there for a long time. So it wasn't a conscious thing, but when we reflected on the record, we realized that there may be a theme here.

Maker: For me it was skating. All the skate stuff that I watched was from the States and it was like, oh my god, it's sunny all the time there. And that alone was amazing. 

I thought that America would be way more similar to where I'm from, the way things worked and the people I would be around. And that's completely not the case. That kind of friction, I found, was quite juicy as inspiration — not necessarily friction in a negative sense, but just that abrasiveness between my understanding of the world and the world around me. Even more so when you go to the desert  — the deepest, darkest like Yucca Valley in California  — that really made a lot of this record flourish.

The Sunset Violent is a lyric from your song "Dumb Guitar." It’s a visceral phrase that stirs me even if I can't quite grasp what it means. How do you interpret it, and how does that inform the record?

Maker: Honestly, that's kind of exactly how I feel, the way you feel about it. We picked out a few lyrics that we liked; it’s really not really a well-thought-out sort of title or anything. It just felt fitting for the sound and for that slight friction: The peacefulness of a sunset, and then the violence doesn't seem to fit, but it kind of does in a weird way. 

A big part of the record in general for us, especially for me with the lyric writing, was trying to set a scene that was a little bit unorthodox and maybe even slightly comical. So yeah, "the sunset violent" just felt like the one line that really stuck out. I love it more and more every time I think about it.

Is there a lyrical thread throughout the album, or is each song its own chapter?

Maker: I think each song is definitely its own short story. Some of my favorite writing that I've ever read is by Roald Dahl. A lot of his adult writing is brilliant because each story just casts a spell on you and takes you to a completely different place. With this album, I wanted to really tap into my love of short stories and writing that's very much fiction. It has some grounding in reality, but there's that fictional feel to it. 

I suppose it’s a new thing for me because I've really never written lyrics for this project. There's never been any sort of lead vocal from the band internally. So it was quite difficult for me initially to try and figure out what I wanted to say. Then I was like, well, actually I don't really want to say anything, and that was quite freeing in itself. 

I read about how the Pixies wrote "Where is My Mind?" — I was like, where are these f—ing insane lyrics from? — and he's like, "Oh, I was snorkeling in the Bahamas and I was just writing about a fish that I saw." The idea of just letting go of trying to write about something was really, really good for me. Absorbing surroundings and trying to feed some of the visuals that I was seeing into the writing was the main thing I wanted to do.

What specific visuals stand out?

Maker: I think the world of "Dumb Guitar": The idea of this slowly degrading, failing relationship and it all kind of coming to a head in this weird resort in China on a beach. I've never been to a beach in China, but I imagine everything's a bit artificial. 

What song would you say became the core of the album? The track where you realized, yes, this is the direction that we should go?

Campos: Yeah, there's a few different moments. You need that initial thing to happen where you get really excited and have enough of a vision to move in a certain direction, and that probably was "Dumb Guitar." 

There were maybe a couple of false starts before that. But ["Dumb Guitar"] was the first one that in terms of the songwriting made me a bit uncomfortable. You try to take that as a good sign [that] you're doing something new to you. To me that was more conventional songwriting, which I would never have done in the past. Even something as simple as a chord that leads into the chorus: It makes the human monkey brain feel good.

That was one of the first ones that Dom had written, and that was such an exciting moment to hear the lyrics and song really come to life. Writing [instrumentation] with vocals in mind is so much more freeing. The vocals are doing so much that you don't have to; you can work in a more subtle way and not try and demand everyone's attention all the time with the music. 

I think "Fish Brain" was another one that really came together. That was probably the one that we worked with Andrea very closely in finishing the song and it really helped us push it to another level. 

How would you say The Sunset Violent evolves Mount Kimbie’s sound from your 2017 album Love What Survives?

Campos: [Our goal was to] write in a way that was more direct. Obviously that can mean lots of different things, but whatever the shortest route for an idea to get executed was what I thought would be interesting to do. I guess that really means [being] more accessible. 

But obviously it wasn't a shot at commercial success. It just so happened that the idea of writing songs that were catchy— just really as simple as they could be, while still being interesting and having quality. That was the major difference from the work that we've done in the past… You can kind of see the evolution of the band through the records. To me, this one feels quite fundamentally different in the way that the songs are written.

In what way?

Campos: I think just the simplicity, or the feeling of simplicity. What I realized over the years was that the pop music that I really enjoyed, or the songwriting that I really enjoyed, sounded simple. And then when you dig into it and try to deconstruct it, you realize there's actually these very important nuances to it that make it work, but from the listener's perspective, it just feels right. 

So it was just trying to do that: have these songs that make you feel something in your gut, but you don't necessarily need to understand why. 

Your music has evolved so much since Crooks & Lovers. Looking back, are you surprised where you've ended up? Or do you feel it was inevitable?

Maker: Oddly, I was thinking about this today. I think it was actually inevitable because we were just really interested in and excited by a certain style and scene in music when we first moved to London when we were younger; 2009, 2010, that era. It was a fascination that really is in just a place and time. 

A lot of that reminds me of growing up, us figuring out London, moving from small towns to the big city, and everything about it being exciting. But I think the fact that we immediately were like, we need to play this live said a lot. Through the years that's been a huge thing, the live show, and trying to approach these songs live has always been something we've really enjoyed doing, and we've got so many amazing memories doing it.It sort of naturally has landed us in this scenario where the sound that we have at the moment feels like something that we want to keep doing more of, which we haven't really had before. We've made records and it's been a long process making them, then when you get to the end, it's sort of like, we should find something new. But, this time, we finished the record and immediately there's still this burning energy to keep going with this sound and writing style. It feels really good and exciting, and I'm glad that the road led us to where we're at now. 

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Updated Friday Oct. 13, 2023 to include info about Kendrick Lamar's most recent GRAMMY wins, as of the 2023 GRAMMYs.

A GRAMMY veteran these days, Kendrick Lamar has won 17 GRAMMYs and has received 47 GRAMMY nominations overall. A sizable chunk of his trophies came from the 58th annual GRAMMY Awards in 2016, when he walked away with five — including his first-ever win in the Best Rap Album category.

This installment of GRAMMY Rewind turns back the clock to 2016, revisiting Lamar's acceptance speech upon winning Best Rap Album for To Pimp A Butterfly. Though Lamar was alone on stage, he made it clear that he wouldn't be at the top of his game without the help of a broad support system. 

"First off, all glory to God, that's for sure," he said, kicking off a speech that went on to thank his parents, who he described as his "those who gave me the responsibility of knowing, of accepting the good with the bad."

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He also extended his love and gratitude to his fiancée, Whitney Alford, and shouted out his Top Dawg Entertainment labelmates. Lamar specifically praised Top Dawg's CEO, Anthony Tiffith, for finding and developing raw talent that might not otherwise get the chance to pursue their musical dreams.

"We'd never forget that: Taking these kids out of the projects, out of Compton, and putting them right here on this stage, to be the best that they can be," Lamar — a Compton native himself — continued, leading into an impassioned conclusion spotlighting some of the cornerstone rap albums that came before To Pimp a Butterfly.

"Hip-hop. Ice Cube. This is for hip-hop," he said. "This is for Snoop Dogg, Doggystyle. This is for Illmatic, this is for Nas. We will live forever. Believe that."

To Pimp a Butterfly singles "Alright" and "These Walls" earned Lamar three more GRAMMYs that night, the former winning Best Rap Performance and Best Rap Song and the latter taking Best Rap/Sung Collaboration (the song features Bilal, Anna Wise and Thundercat). He also won Best Music Video for the remix of Taylor Swift's "Bad Blood." 

Lamar has since won Best Rap Album two more times, taking home the golden gramophone in 2018 for his blockbuster LP DAMN., and in 2023 for his bold fifth album, Mr. Morale & the Big Steppers.

Watch Lamar's full acceptance speech above, and check back at GRAMMY.com every Friday for more GRAMMY Rewind episodes. 

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