Most of the gigs went well. There was one actual shitty gig but the rest of them went well. I played Dunkirk, France; then over to Berlin to play with the Jazzanova guys; then Plastic People in London, and on to Brighton.

It was pretty cool. I didn't know what to expect so I played what was for me quite a straight-ahead set. But the night was cool – very freeform – the guy there Ade was playing all sorts of shit. I think it worked well. It went off, it was packed, people screaming.

It's just a local college station. That's basically where I went in and started DJing because they had 1200s in there. That's where I started practicing before I had my own stuff. I'd go in and use them when people weren't there, and then I had a show – but I wasn't on air practicing scratching! I had been into more hip hop, jazz and funk up to that point, and when I started working there I got a lot hipper to what was going on in Detroit, because Ann Arbor is kind of removed from Detroit. It's actually weird because it's so difficult to keep up with the music that's going on in the city unless you live there and you're involved in it. That is to say that if you live in South East Michigan, you are much more likely to be oblivious to what is going on than if you live in, say, your town, just because people are a little more hip to what is going on. Ann Arbor's like 45 minutes away from Detroit.

Well, I live in Detroit now – I've lived here for four and a half years. But in growing up in the suburbs in Ann Arbor it was very hard to keep up on what was going on, and to have the insider information.

Yeah, and from playing instruments for a number of years. I played the sax for eight years in a jazz band.

In terms of production I think it's been very helpful. I'm not a virtuoso or anything but I think my little bit of experience has opened my ears up and I can hear the music better, it's developed my ear a lot. When I'm putting samples together I can really hear things that go together a lot better than if I hadn't had that time playing instruments, learning and developing my ear. And even with DJing too, because I try to mix tonally a lot. Lots of records I have don't have easy breaks to mix into, so you find the records in the right key that mix tonally, like when I do my mix CDs.

I had done a demo CD to get some more gigs about two years ago, and I sent it to these guys who do my booking over in Belgium. They circulated it out and I guess a lot of people were really into it, and there was a demand for it. They wanted to get their hands on it so they were phoning me up and e-mailing me to make it into a proper CD, rather than just an underground bootleg homemade thing. It's still an underground bootleg homemade thing, but just on a label!

Actually a lot of it is edited together, which just enabled me to do some different stuff in the studio. Basically where the live element came in was mixing it all down. So my hands were freed up to do a lot of effects and tricks and so on. I'd say it's pretty reflective of one of my DJ sets. I think it's a pretty linear mix because it stays at one tempo, but stylistically it goes all over the place. Looking back to it – it's a bit scatterbrained, and that's why some people like it – the scatterbrain element gives it its ambience.

I kind of go in spurts. I go to Europe for a couple of weeks and have three, four, five gigs then I'll come back here and work on music. I do gigs around here every once in a while.

I did a little bit of both. At some of the gigs I would play records to warm it up, or at the set breaks, but I was more involved with the band too.

Yeah, it definitely did. It's a really interactive exercise, because it's all about listening and figuring out where your space is, especially with what I do because I don't have a chart – I just throw in different things. I'm doing a similar thing with this band from New York, the Uri Caine Group. This guy does musical interpretations of like, Gustav Mahler, and Bach compositions. I was sitting up there the day before the gig and he's like: "Yeah. just do what you feel, man! I'll put a little star next to the ones where you should really go for it." [laughs] You know? It's kind of like "What the fuck?" because he tells you this just before you go on! So you really have to use your ear, and feel the music, and figure out when it's the perfect time to do something, or when it's the time to sit out.

It does touch it, but it's kind of seldom for me few and far between. It's not the same feeling. Some people say that you can literally play the turntables like a musical instrument, and for some people you can make that argument, like scratch DJs and turntablists and so on. While I do a little bit of scratching and a few tricks, I don't get the same feelin you're still playing other people's music. There's obviously a way that you can do it where there's a definite art to it, but for me playing an instrument gives you that much more control – it's that simple, and you can be much more expressive. I don't get the same feeling from production either, because production for me is not so spontaneous. I know some people work right off the mixing board, but my music is a bit too complex to it, and has too many parts to try things off the board.

Yeah, it's a very methodical, tedious, step-by-step process. I've been able to make tracks a little bit quicker lately because I've become a bit more comfortable with what I have and I make quicker decisions with music. When I started making tracks I'd go on these retarded tangents. I'd have a structure, and I'd be going through records to try and figure out what little bits and pieces I can swipe and put in there. I'd put on these random records and think "no, that's no good", and then I'd be like, "Oh yeah, this'll be great: why don't I take this tuba polka lick and put it over this." And now I know that that's a dumb idea! Conceptually it might be kind of weird or quirky, but now I have it kind of down a lot more about what's going to fit and what's not. It is experience I suppose – to not go on tangents and think, well, that's kind of amusing – and also because I have had deadlines.

Well, the pain comes in arranging it and mixing it, whereas the fun is putting it together. When it comes to the decisions about whether it's done, whether you have enough parts, whether it's interesting enough, whether it makes sense, and whether it grooves — that's the hard part!

Yeah, on Spelunking he helped by just lending his ears, and he would come in and help with the mix; and more so on the first record but that's been a while since that came out. I've had to rely a bit more on myself, it's not like I don't ask friends who drop by " Does this make sense?" – I always ask people for their opinions.

If you'd asked me a year ago I would have told you that I was kind of embarrassed about it, because I feel like I've changed so much and I've learned a lot since then. Now listening to it, it almost sounds like somebody else because it's been that long, and I haven't been in touch with a lot of those ideas for a long time. But for me it's still a kind of cool record – for me to listen to it – because I was thinking along different lines, and my instinct was different back then. As time went on, like anybody, you learn and you change. I'd say that release was pretty much everything I'd ever done up to that point, with the addition of two other songs I had at home. When I gave Carl that stuff I hadn't been making records for more than, maybe, six or eight months.

Well it went from me playing in bands to me DJing, and trying to transplant the feeling of playing an instrument to that. So when I discovered I couldn't fully do that I decided to try production. I wanted to have my hands on creating what actually went on the record, which is also a lot of fun. They're all different aspects of music – but like I said before – I'm still missing that element of actually being able to spontaneously create melody, play a solo, or just react to music and play totally over something. That's not to take away from DJing or production, because I love them both. I lived with two guys who were also into making music so we pooled our resources and bought up some gear, just to start, and we kept it together for about a year and a half, and then ended up getting our own stuff.

Sometimes, yeah, one sample will spark an idea. It's all about where you're starting from, and I have a lot of different starting points. Sometimes it'll be one sample and I'll let that spark an idea or a thought process, and maybe in the end I won't even use that initial sample, it'll just be a catalyst for what came next. Other times I'll fiddle around on the keyboard. I got a Rhodes about six months ago, so I spend a lot of time trying to write my own changes, and not have songs that just run in one key all the time. So I'll maybe start with coming up with some changes, write a bassline and then take some drum patterns off a record, then find the little extra pieces off records to go over the top.

I'm thinking about actually buying a drum machine, to get into it. The few times I've messed around with drum machines I've had a lot of fun, depending on what they are. I like the older step sequencers – a staple Detroit sound – but I don't generally use them, which I guess makes my stuff a little different because I tend to use more organic drums off of records.

I was trying to give it a little more of an electronic angle, versus all samples. Like the bassline hook, I was thinking along the lines of Detroit techno, and I don't know if that comes off. Then the rest of it I wanted it to be elements of what I'd been doing before, taking little bits of samples and sounds and dropping them in there. Then I had my friend Dweli – basically I gave him the cut and he sung some vocals on a minidisc and gave it back. He's a really busy guy now! Right around the time we did the track he got signed to Virgin, and he's recently done stuff with Bahamadia and a remix for New Sector Movements.

No, I really didn't. I used to come to Detroit every once in a while to go record shopping. I had a really had a bad impression of techno for the longest time, because of what I associated it with where I lived, and it's just amazing I think that I could be oblivious with what was happening for so long, and what had happened before. I think it's just a comment on this area of the country and how it misperceives things and write things off without looking or understanding what it is, and I fell victim to that for a while. I think it also had to do with your classic division with your kids who listen to hip hop and funk, versus kids who listen to techno, and there's a serious line down the middle of those camps. I mean it's totally an imaginary line, but it seemed so real at the time. I don't think it's there so much any more. It was just the stigma attached to techno, associated with raving, and big pants and glow sticks for the longest time, so I think that was a big reason why I didn't get into it.

What I came to realise though, when people would say 'listen to this record' or 'listen to this tape' or whatever, was that a lot of this stuff I had been into as a kid, but I didn't know was techno, thinking back to when I listened to the radio. And that was the biggest bridge between what was going on in the city musically and people in and around the city being hip to it, besides the people who were specifically involved in the music industry. The radio was the bridge, but that only lasted up until the early nineties, when Mojo and The Wizard evaporated. So right there, it was impossible to know what was going on unless you had someone who was able to put you onto it.

I had some friends who were involved in the scene. One guy was involved with Plus 8 at the time, and he slipped me this tape of classic Detroit techno and I listened to it for a week straight and was feeling it, and actually remembered a lot of the songs – they were somewhere in my consciousness. A lot of it had to do too to hearing UR records or Carl Craig. When I went back to looking for these things that I knew I'd heard, but I didn't know what they were, a lot of the stuff was Juan's stuff, and early Model 500 records. So it was kind of a rediscovery – not that I'd been aware of what I was listening to – but that I'd heard it all. It was kind of like a pleasant experience of reliving that time, even if it was just me being in my bedroom as a 12-year-old on my bed. It still represented an association, of around about 1995 when the curtain lifted. When the fog lifted!

That's what's great about the DEMF, because a lot of people around here work along those same assumptions that I worked along – that techno is just drugs music for kids in fucked up warehouses swinging glow sticks and giving each other backrubs. That contingent will still be there – but what was great about the festival last year was seeing those people come out and make that realisation that I had made seven years ago. You could see it in their faces – like older local people – being like "Oh yeah! I remember this shit" and seeing them dance! Thirty-five or forty-year-old people – it was incredible! You had people who knew kind of what was going on, and then you had those who had no idea, but who you could tell were pleasantly surprised that it wasn't just "boom-boom-boom-boom". It was especially apparent when I went to Theo Parrish's set and he had this crowd in the palm of his hand. Even though the record was skipping, the wind was blowing so hard that it was making the needle jump, but it didn't even matter – people were still gigging outside Hart Plaza, no holds barred. throwing down!

I think it's more to do with the fanaticism towards drugs, and that association with electronic music. There is obviously a connection, but it's not always the case. I know that I don't do drugs, my friends don't do drugs – we'll drink, and puff every once in a while – but I'm not popping pills at the end of the day. It's the way the media portray it, and also I think record companies have a lot to do with it. Although to me that's not such a bad thing, the nature of big labels is to get their hands on something and fuck it up. They're not going to support what's there – they're going to try and interpret what it is and put their own face on it, and destroy it. But it's just weird how this country is. It's always how it's been for the last fifty years. A lot of music originates here, but no one's into it. It's suppressed, so in order for it to live and breathe it has to go somewhere else, and then it comes back. But you could write a book about this stuff, study it and analyse it until you're dead!

It really does depend where you are. Sometimes I get booked at certain festivals and it's like, "Oh Jesus... is this what it's all about?" Those kind of gigs live up to that stigma – the young kids who don't know shit about shit, and love their shit dished out hard and simple: "Here comes the drum roll. Here comes the bassline. building. building. Then. BOOM!" Those gigs are more like that, and they suck for me too because I don't play like that, I play different shit and I think it's a bit more challenging than the obvious fare. But then there are other gigs like the one in Berlin, and the Plastic People thing. I think for me it's a lot to do with the size of the gig too. Like in London it was 400 people top — an intimate setting where people where just there to listen to music and have a good time, have a drink or two and gig. People might have been popping pills but that wasn't what it was about, if you know what I mean. It was just about letting go and having fun. I know that sounds like some hippy-fied shit right there! [impersonates hippy voice] 'Feel the vibe, man, just feel the vibe!'

It is basically an attempt from us to put some music out that we've been hearing that has been overlooked by a lot of labels round here. So that these guys don't have to go overseas – we're trying to keep it all in the family. All the artists on our label live within a couple of blocks of here.

Definitely Herbert and Compost, but I've done a couple of remixes of things that I didn't really like. I wasn't choosy enough, but now I'm really choosy, basically because I don't have time with my album, so I'm doing remixes or touring at the moment.

It's a big question mark in the sky, man! I really haven't had that much time to work on it – I've had spots on and off for a year to work on it. I have tracks that I've started but are unfinished, but I really need to put the time in to make them what I want them to be. So I have like a developing sketch, and for me to say what it's all about would be a little premature. I'm going to let it take me there, and get my head down. I've had many deadlines, but basically it's going to be September or early October, and any time after that is going to be a shitty time so I don't want to wait until next year.

They give me space, which is cool, and they've never really sweated me with anything, except for at times with this album. But that's completely understandable because I have been taking so long, and have been getting sidetracked over and over again. Honestly, the mix CD was an enormous sidetrack, and I've literally done nine or ten remixes, the material for which could easily have made up an album. So I'm kind of kicking myself in the ass! I haven't been thinking too much about career development: everything that came in front of my face I'd just do it, and I just need to be a bit more conscious of that stuff.

It's kind of on/off, but I'd say the past year has been great — it's going really well for me. I have been making a living, and able to make a living without having to make sandwiches! It's a really, really great feeling. It's not like all roses – you just have to be careful with how you live. It's a bit risky, and I kind of feel like flavour of the month syndrome at the moment – I don't know if I'm possibly being unwise in my habits: when I get a cheque I just want to go and buy more gear.

I don't think that that would happen, but again, it's one of those things that I haven't been conscious enough of. Whereas someone like Moodymann, people would say that he just brushes it all off, like he's not conscious of it either but just says no. He's actually very conscious of what he's doing. He doesn't give interviews for a very good reason: it contributes to his mystique and he sells more records, in a way. And it works. He turns down gigs all the time and it just raises his value. That's something that I haven't thought about. Unless the shit's really wack I'm like "Yeah, I'll do it!" I haven't been thinking as far as if it's right for my career, but now I need to start thinking like that. I was always a bit idealistic, that I just wanted to make music and DJ, but now there's a little more to it than that.

He's been an enormous help, in a lot of different ways: with production; lending me money, and equipment. He's given musical advice, touring advice, life advice – he's a good guy and a good friend. He's really got that maternal instinct to look out for people – maybe it's more brotherly – I don't know! But he looks out for me, and all the artists on the label. He's got a really big heart. That's why it hurts me so much when he was fired, and he was made to look incompetent, and his name was dragged through the mud by, I'm sorry, this opportunistic, evil bitch… That's a little raw, but that's how I honestly feel about it. I think this woman has no respect for anybody. Not only for playing Carl, but also that she would let her ego get in the way of this festival, and trying to ruin this opportunity for millions of people, and tainting it… give me a break, it's so ill… it's fucked up.

Yeah, because that's what for me Carl represents, is pushing these things: quality music, and he more than anybody in Detroit, I'd argue, has the ears for that. If you look at the line-ups of last year and this year you'll see that it's not one kind of music: it's acts across the board, not just techno acts and not just Detroit acts – but it's the crème de la crème for me. That's what he was able to do, because he had the vision, and the taste, and he personally knows most of these people, and his reputation is what made the festival what it is. People came out because his name was behind it. This woman, Carol Marvin, her role in it has been to completely shanghai the whole festival – to intervene and stop everything positive in this festival. It's fucked. There are more people involved than just her, but she's the instigator without a doubt… the brain behind the overthrow…

There's been so much talk about it. Everyone knows what's happened, here and overseas, and everyone coming into the festival. I think if she steps up on stage she'll either get booed off or she'll be met with complete silence. I don't think she'll step up… actually I think she might – she's so stupid she might. If she's stupid enough to fire Carl without thinking she'd get a reaction, so she very well might walk out on stage and let her ego tell her that everyone likes her. She's got no friends in the city. We're going to do some t-shirts as well, and several of the artists are up for wearing them. A lot of them know that they've got nothing to lose because if Carl's not involved they're sure as hell not going to get booked again. She doesn't have a clue. I don't know – I don't want to be player hating! I get on these tirades, but it's because I feel so passionate about it. It's important that people know about these things – even if they aren't directly involved – for the people who are coming and the people who will come next time, and people in general who love music that comes from Detroit.