hiding / in plain sight / since always
On September 7th, 2018, Mac Miller died, and something inside me broke.
I wanted to hear his song Funeral. I couldn't find it on the streaming service I was using. He'd just died, and I needed the song, and the song wasn't there. So I went and got it myself from a DJ Pool.
I downloaded every file by hand to create my Mac Miller tribute playlist. I loaded them onto a digital turntable. No studio. No editor. I didn't even know how to edit audio files — so every time I made a mistake, I started the whole mix over from the beginning. One take. Start to finish. However many tries it took to get it right. It was both mentally and emotionally draining.
When I finally finished, I uploaded the Mac Miller Mix so anyone else who needed Funeral could find it. Then came 2018 Vol. 1. Then Hip Hop 2000s Vol. 1 — the final tribute. Three mixes, all done the same way. One take. No edits. No second chances.
Then something inside me just said, stop.
So I stopped.
For seven years I didn't release anything. I wasn't gone — I was listening. To everything. The whole lineage, top to bottom, over and over. The music was preparing me for something I didn't know was coming yet. It always had been. I just didn't see it until later.
I was hiding in plain sight the whole time.
So were you.
The most dangerous thing in the room is the one nobody's looking for. DJ L1GHT operates at the intersection of sound, signal, and shadow — music as a transmission, not a performance.
The mask isn't a disguise. It's a mirror. Every crowd sees something different when the lights go down and the frequencies take over. You were always the art.
Rooted in Vancouver. Reaching everywhere. Sets built like architecture, not playlists.