If you love your house music, David Morales needs no introduction but just in case, we will give you an education into a man who we believe is one of the best DJs in the business sitting alongside Carl Cox and Louie Vega atop the mountain from which they gaze.
He is a globally revered New York DJ hailing from Brooklyn, a Grammy award-winning record producer, a songwriter, and a businessman. He has produced and remixed over 500 records for an all-star roster of multi-platinum artists, including Mariah Carey, U2, Michael Jackson, Aretha Franklin, Madonna, and Whitney Houston.
Morales was one of the first superstar DJs to actively tour the world—and his activity, over the years, has only increased. Before the pandemic, recent 2019 headlining dates included the U.K.’s 51st State Festival; a back-to-back set with Luciano at IMS’ Dalt Villa party; massive five-hour “tag team” sets with Louie Vega; sold-out events at Manchester’s Victoria Warehouse, Avant Gardner in New York, and A Night in Paradise at London’s Ministry of Sound.
Not one to rest on his laurels, in the midst of this non-stop tour schedule, Morales launched Diridim Records. With this new label, Morales is signing and developing artists—and naturally, releasing some of his own productions. Diridim celebrates all dance music, from the classic sounds Morales is known for to straight up electronic. Releases in 2019 include the multi-volume ‘The Red Zone Project’, ‘Izizwe’, featuring Shota, and collaborations, ‘There Must Be Love’ and ‘Freedom’ with Janice Robinson. His unquenchable thirst for breaking new ground is what continues to define house music for the world.
He honed his skills as a DJ in the 1980s and 1990s at such legendary clubs as the Paradise Garage, Red Zone, Ministry of Sound, and Sound Factory. When the remix and DJ work began taking off, Morales teamed up with house music legend, Frankie Knuckles, and For The Record DJ Pool founder/NYC nightlife impresario, Judy Weinstein, to create Def Mix Productions.
The DJ-turned-artist always has his eyes firmly focused on the future — on what lies ahead. He keeps an ear to the ground, regularly exploring new music, new artists, and hotly tipped DJs who might inspire him to “go and do my homework”.
Never one to rest on his laurels, he has been phenomenally busy during the lockdown and his three hour live streams are a testament to the professionalism that surrounds him in everything he does. Being so busy we were extremely grateful that he was able to take some time out and talk to us on the phone.
Check out David Morales performing a DJ set:
So David, welcome to Switched On Music. How you doing? Good. I’m just starting my day at the studio. Now that the gyms are finally opened up again, I get back to some sort of normality. I haven’t stopped with my music though. Thank God I have my studio which is only two minutes’ walk from my house. So, at least I haven’t been cooped up at home.
I have been spending most of my time in streaming world. The technical side of the streaming is a lot of work if you are going to do it properly. By that I mean the production side of it. We all started doing it on the phone but then quickly you realised the reality that streaming is here to stay and it has evolved.
It’s now about investing the money and the time to really get streaming to a professional level. And that means, forgetting about the iPhone camera. You need a proper sound card, visuals, software; I mean, I’ve been spending the last month with a tech guy. But I’m really happy with my results because it looks good.
Being David Morales and being a professional, everything I do has to be at the highest level that it can be, whether it’s making music or playing music or being a person. So, you know, you have to have passion for what you’re doing and really take it seriously.
This [challenge] has been almost a blessing to me as it really took me back to basics. What I mean by that, is because you’re always on gigs over the weekend, you don’t take time to really concentrate on your craft and take inventory of everything.
I haven’t played in my studio to myself in God knows how many years and I’m really happy that it took time away from making music as I was working on two albums and now I just finally started to get back to that.
You know, you always want to put your best foot forward. I mean, forget about what everybody else is doing because you have to be ahead of the pack.
I suppose to retain your standing as an artist, you’ve got to be the best you can be at every moment?It’s almost like starting new. You can’t take any attitude [into it]. You have to work even harder. Not because you want to but because that’s just how you have always been. It’s not easy. It is time consuming. There’s some frustration that goes along with it but it’s like making a record; when it’s finished, you go “wow” and you’re happy because you know the effort that you put into it.
Being in this game for over 30 years as a professional, the only thing that changes is the demographics, the age group… Okay, music changes with different styles but the basics are the basics and the basics never change. [The environment changes[, now you can pop into somebody’s living room and people can invite their friends and say, “let’s have a couple of beers, a couple of drinks.”
They put on YouTube and experience David Morales for two hours. It beats going out to a bar or something. You don’t have to go to a club technically speaking and wait for a DJ. So, for example, I can’t go to Australia but I can give you the next best thing.
Check out ‘Sunday Mass’ by David Morales:
If we can take you back to the very beginning: you were born to a Puerto Rican family in Brooklyn. What was it like growing up there? What was your neighbourhood like?Well, I mean I come from the ghetto; you know, poor family, cockroaches in the house. When you wake up in the morning you got to slam your sneakers or your shoes together so the roaches fall out because they been camping there during the night. I’m not joking!!!
I grew up in a neighbourhood where the gangsters had their social clubs with a jukebox and stuff. I was that nosy kid that always found myself wandering about and when you were a kid from the neighbourhood, they didn’t ask you what you were doing there or tell you to get out. You knew everybody. That’s really how I got exposed to black music.
I come from a broke Puerto Rican family and there was only Latin music in the house… So, I wasn’t being exposed to any American speaking music whatsoever. The funny thing is that when you live in those neighbourhoods, it’s like the Projects; the door is open, the door’s never locked.
The kids come and go from the apartment. There’s no parenting like we have today. Like, when I had my kids,”‘You’re not going outside without me until God knows when”. But when I was four or five years old, I was finding myself in the strangest places because I wasn’t supervised.
I was a curious kid. I was always wandering… But we’re talking about the ’60s. It was a different era. Music was different. Society was different. It’s not like today. Back then, you had to find ways of amusing yourself. And like I said, we were poor. When Christmas time came along, it wasn’t like there was a Christmas tree with a bunch of gifts underneath. If you got one or two gifts you were like “wow…”
So when did you start bringing different music back home that your mother was telling you to turn down?So the first music that I ever brought home was a seven inch 45 RPM ‘Put Your Hands Together’ by The O’Jays. I put the stereo speaker out the window of the house and I must have played that record 100 times the first day I got it. I just played it over and over. It’s the only record I had. My mother was like, “You playing that shit again?”
I was maybe about ten. I liked funk. I wasn’t into Elton John or Captain And Tennille, even though you heard those records on the radio. I gravitated to funk. I liked what was on Stax Records, Isaac Hayes, The Temptations, The Jackson Five, those were all my groups. I mean, I wasn’t a Partridge Family kid [laughs].
Did you ever have any jobs outside of music?Yes, sure. My first job was at a supermarket working with my father. Then when I left home at 17, I worked in a restaurant until I was about 22 years old. DJing was really a hobby or a hobby that turned into doing some gigs and of course, doing gigs for no money.
Also it wasn’t like today. When you carried your whole collection of records to a gig; if you had ten crates of records, you took ten crates of records on a gig. [Back then] you just wanted to play.
So, I had jobs and then when I started promoting my own night at a club, I would print and design my flyers on my lunch break. I was making maybe tops $175 a week for a full-time job. Then when my promotions were making $1000 a night I was like ‘shit, I don’t have to work in a restaurant anymore’. So I had a regular job until I was able to support myself full time through music.
Check out David Morales’ ‘Sunday Mass’:
So I was going to ask you a question that is an add-on to that because a lot of young DJs want to come and start with a fully formed career, whereas people of your generation generally had a life experience before that because there was no DJ career before then. How important do you think is it to have another career outside of music before you go on that journey?
So, I’m gonna rewind the tape for a moment. I’m gonna go back to when I was young. My first thing, when people ask me what advice I have to give to the new kid coming up is to ask them, “Why do you want to be a DJ?” That’s a very important question because I like playing music.
I came up in the generation where you played one record at a time, even at a party. You were the selector. There were no questions like “who’s the DJ?” You went to a party and you heard music. It wasn’t about who’s playing the music. Not at all. You played one record at a time. You would sit by that stereo and play those tunes.
Then the evolution came out with two turntables and a mixer and the slogan was ‘non-stop disco mix’ because the music never stopped. Before that, as I have said, there was always a pause in the music. You had to take time to go from one record to the next.
Even though I had no money, I walked by the stereo store and fantasised. I looked at those turntables and a mixer and my restaurant job back then enabled me to lay away. I put a deposit on two turntables and a mixer and paid them off every week and was so excited to put down that extra $50 towards my gear.
Then when you got it, you looked at that thing like it was like the most beautiful woman in the world and you were just so fucking happy; so appreciative.
I remember I had no money to buy records and I would go to a record store every day because what else did I have to do? So, I would just go to the record store, listen to music, look at the wall and go through records. [And none of that] had nothing to do with wanting to DJ somewhere because that didn’t even come into the equation. You just loved to DJ and you wanted that equipment because it just took listening and playing music to another level.
It’s not because you wanted to be a star because there were no star DJs at that time. The role of DJing wasn’t even a job people were taking seriously. Back then, if you were the resident at a club, you’d play every night, and you’d play six or seven hours straight for maybe anywhere from $25 a night to $50 a night.
I remember when I first played The Paradise Garage in 1983. I got paid $250. That was good money and I played an 11-hour set!!
So, getting back to answering your question. What people lack today is the appreciation for the art. (My life experience is equivalent) of going to Yale, UCLA, Harvard etc. I’m like a 10th degree black belt in DJing because I’ve lived the art for 40 plus years. In the world of DJing, I’m like one of those martial arts kids that went to China, and was taught like The Karate Kid by the master.
These days you get a controller, a computer; you play MP3s. You don’t even know about sound. You don’t give a shit about sound. You don’t know what it is like to look forward to go to a record store and properly select what you’re playing. Or that when you bought that record, you couldn’t wait to go home and play it on your turntable. You couldn’t wait to play that weekend because you had a new record that you wanted to break.
And then when you did play, you had to develop the art for the whole night. So, you started the night. You had to tell a story. You had to take people on a journey that went up and down. So, you know, kids today are like; just because you buy a beat box, you call yourself a remixer and a producer.
How dare you? It’s almost like you bought a soccer ball and say, ‘I’m a professional soccer player. Sign me because I can kick a ball’.
I think that in the end there’s a lot that goes with that. There’s a social error. Back in the day you worked a week, and come Friday, Saturday, you’d go into the record store and you couldn’t wait to see what new records came in.
There was a social network. Talking among DJs was high because music was meant to be shared with people. Now it’s like, ‘I got this exclusive’ and all this kind of nonsense and it’s just lost. I mean it’s gone.
But I applaud how the world of a DJ has evolved today because when you used to say, ‘I’m a DJ’, people looked at you like you were stupid. “A DJ? What is that?” But now they see David Guetta and Calvin Harris in Forbes magazine and the money they’re making.
Now all of a sudden it’s like, ‘Oh, I want to be a DJ’. Then they get Traktor or Serato and just press a button. Please don’t think I am negating the technology. You can use whatever you want. I welcome the technology. I mean, I use Traktor but I can play on anything. A lot of new kids when they see a turntable it’s strange [to them].
People want instant gratification these days. Like I said, music has been my life. Music is my life. I can’t see myself doing anything else and I’m going to be 58 years old. Music keeps me young. I’m not your average 50. I’m a grandfather for crying out loud. I don’t go out and behave like that though. Music has been my escape. Music is still my escape.
So, what I will tell that kid is remember why you want to be a DJ. This is number one. We were all bedroom DJs. Every single one of us. We’re not supposed to forget that but if your idea is to make it big, then you have it wrong.
At the end of the day you got into music and you bought yourself some decks. I know people that bought some equipment, not because they wanted to be anything, but because they wanted it and they liked it.
They like records, they like the sound system, they have a Macintosh; but they don’t care about being some superstar DJ. They just love their music and will always love their music. I mean, that thing back in the day, when your mates came over after you bought records; the records became a conversation piece. So there is some sense of that today but people today don’t own one piece of vinyl or a CD…
So I interviewed Barbara Tucker, last year and she said the New York scene was a community affair. When house music first started off it wasn’t just about the DJs but the dancers like Voodoo Ray as well. Do you agree with that comment?Absolutely. Listen, I was a dancer. I’ve known Barbara for over 40 years. Barbara was a dancer at my club in Brooklyn. She was one of my regulars. I’m going back to 1980 -1981. So, she was a dancer and I was a dancer. I would go to The Garage and The Loft and was one of those kids that was in that club from beginning to the end. Dancing my ass off, dropping some LSD and I was on my way.
Then I’d get home after listening to a great DJ like David Mancuso or Larry Levan and turn on my sound system. The next thing you know, you went to the record store trying to find out what is this record because you wanted that record.
It could be some stupid exclusive 12 inch that was hanging on the wall in Vinyl Mania for $75. But when you bought that record for $75, you were like the happiest person in the world.
So, what Barbara was doing and what I did in the early ’80s; Yes, it was a community because the whole neighbourhood came out. Everybody knew each other and that’s what made it special.
When you got people like Louie Vega playing, one of the masters of the game; I could walk in there anytime and he’d say, “Yo! D play some music.” It was a community. It wasn’t about how much you paid me. It was nothing like that. But that’s how we roll.
She also said that your themed parties were the hottest in town at the Ozone. She said you’d lock the doors after a certain hour and keep people in. Do you think the promoters pay enough attention to create their nights like you did at Ozone in favour of just putting in as many DJs on as possible?
Well this all started for me in London because they were the first people to start this. So I never forget when I first went there. My first gig was playing with Pete Tong and Nicky Holloway at the Astoria. I play my set but I come from the schooling where you start easy and work your way in.
I play 55 minutes and Pete says, “Thank you man that was great”. I was like, “what???” Nobody told me I was playing for 55 minutes. Everybody looked at me when I said I didn’t care about the money. He came back with, “That’s how we do things here but you were great” But I hadn’t even gone anywhere yet. I didn’t come from the world of playing one-hour, two-hour sets at all.
So do you think we have lost something through shortened sets?
Yeah I think the industry has lost a fair bit. Promoters have the power to do anything but (they believe its ok) as long as you give the people something. Listen, my mother can book a venue and book the top DJs in the world.
And it doesn’t matter… Anyone can do that. But it’s really supposed to be about a promoter putting on an incredible event with good production which delivers good music. So, put a curtain in front of the DJ booth and at the end of the day, if the shit is banging, the party’s amazing, the energy is great; this is the way it’s supposed to be.
The music is part of the adventure. It’s not the total package. It’s important. Yes. But why do you think people like Elrow have done so well? They don’t book all these major DJs. They put money into their production and people know it’s going to be a wonderful event. People are not going for the line-up.
You have to have pride in what you do. Instead of paying somebody a quarter of a million dollars just because you’ve got a name; create a platform.
When you create a platform; the production, a theme, everything (should be so good) that when people come in through the doors, they are like “wow, this is an experience with great music.” They remember that experience. Period. That’s my opinion. The DJ doesn’t make the whole thing. Music is part of it.
I came from an era where the DJ was in a corner somewhere. You didn’t see him. You weren’t glorifying the DJ. There was nothing to watch. You just had to listen. Because it was all about listening and dancing. So, show your appreciation to the DJ by dancing. Don’t look at me. I ain’t performing magic tricks or pulling a rabbit out of a hat lol.
So if we move on to Red Zone. Could you describe what that means to you and what type of music that is?
Well the Red Zone was a new club and was like the new Studio 54 of New York. They had Michael Alig, a top promoter at that time and he was very pro the Red Zone. It was right about when the rave scene was starting in America.
So, you know, normally you had New York type American house playing. In 89, I took my first trip to London and obviously that’s when I was mixing records and I was making a lot of records for the UK.
Now, playing at the Red Zone, I was one of the first guys to play ‘Pump Up The Jam’, Snap ‘The Power’, Soul II Soul, KLF, ‘What Time Is Love?’ Nobody was playing that shit in New York.
The place had incredible sound and lighting and the music was different. I was playing reggae, I was playing RnB; all kinds of stuff because I played the whole night. I had a lot of time to play many different things so the people wouldn’t get bored.
So, the Red Zone sound, even if I did a down tempo record, was the dark side. It was the instrumental dubs with no vocals. It was part of the regular mix, maybe it was part of the break that was expanded into something else. And it became known that you only heard that music at the Red Zone. So, the UK was my biggest influence on that sound because I was mixing most of my records for the UK, not America.
The UK broke me as a remixer to the world. It wasn’t my own country. My own country came later. I liked some of that other stuff that was going on in Europe, in the Netherlands, Germany and those kinds of things.
There were some different sound touches going on there and those sounds influenced me. So, when it came to do my Red Zone dubs that’s how that influence came in because the dub really had nothing to do with the actual 12 inch.
Its almost what they are playing with the Tech House stuff today as mine was playing at that 120 -123 BPM. We are not talking about fast tempo stuff. It was really groovy, atmospheric and a really electronic sound.
If you listen to the Jody Whatley ‘I’m the One’, that’s at like 112BPM. That stuff is like mental. We are talking about a sound that was way ahead of his time.
A real producer can wear many hats you know. I’m working on this new track right now called ‘Life Is A Song’ that’s at 110 BPM and it’s so funky. Oh, my God. Its wonderful!
Then later I’m gonna switch the channel and I’m gonna work on a Red Zone track as an instrumental. That’s why I am going to have Red Zone Volume 6 about to drop in July because I like to do those things. You know, you don’t have to be pigeonholed to just do one thing.
I think diversity is the spice of life?
As a DJ, I grew up where it was all about diversity. You have to remember there was no style of music back in the day. It was just music. I didn’t care whether it was euro disco, whatever; music was music.
Okay, so let’s go back to the late ’80s early ’90s for a moment. You have Norman Cooke. You had Jazzie B. You had KLF. Besides Morales, Vega, Knuckles in NYC, from the UK, you had CJ McIntosh, Dave Durell.
There were so many people that were influencing the scene. Teams of people; like even Stock Aitken and Waterman. So, there was always somebody that made an impact whether it was Todd Terry, whether it was Armand Van Helden, whether it was Daft Punk. But when was the last time from you can really think of someone from the DJ world or whatever that has done that? The last one for me was Daft Punk.
So yeah, everybody’s making music but nobody’s doing anything to break some new ground.
And there is a lot of content out there?
I’m putting out a lot of music. In the last few years, I started my own label Diridim which is my evolution from Def Mix. So it’s me going solo.
I really didn’t want to sign my records to just any label because some labels don’t even have a vision. I want to do what I want to do. Some labels say, “you’re an old name.” Okay. I’m an old man. But you’re not listening to my work because if this work came from a new guy you would be like wow!
And someone has to teach the new generation. There’s just overwhelming regurgitation going on, and there’s nothing fresh coming in because there’s nothing but a bunch of repetitious shit. People are making the music that they think people want to hear.
What’s the flavour of the moment as opposed to being a trendsetter. I want to be a trendsetter. I’ve always been a trendsetter. It doesn’t matter about the age or whatever. People like me and Louie Vega, we’re some of the hardest working people in the business. We don’t stop.
We record it and we produce records because we love to. Not because we have to. Because what are these kids doing today? Oh shit, I gotta make a record. I have to produce records etc. This is what the game has become. You haven’t even conquered the world of DJing and you want to wear another hat.
So what does a DJ need to do?
A real DJ/artist has to evolve. If you want to play the game you have to evolve. The basics are the basics. A song is a song and a melody is a melody. Michael Jackson and Prince for example, they didn’t make the same music over and over and over. Not at all. Michael Jackson from day one. Look at the transformation. I’m like, “Yo. Ciao. Respect.”
I was a young DJ once and got to play The Garage at 21. I understand there’s a lot of new talent out there. And they need a break. 100%. I’m the first to say this kid is amazing. I will market that person.
When people ask me what I think about this or that I say, “this motherfucker is on point.” Because I was one of those kids. But you have to give respect to the elders. They are masters at the game. It’s not a sport. It’s a mental thing. It’s not about your physical ability. It is a mental ability.
So let’s talk about Frankie.
Frankie was like my soulmate. Frankie was more than a brother. Frankie was half of me in a musical sense. Me and Frankie never had an argument or disagreement. Never. Never. Never. Which is kind of strange.
Frankie taught me a lot of things. And as an elder…
(At this point David gets very emotional and it is obvious the love he has for his friend and we take a moment.)
Sorry, I get emotional when I talk about Frankie because nobody knows Frankie like I knew Frankie. I spent time with him on the road. Me and Frankie were Def Mix. There’s no Def Mix without Dave Morales and Frankie knuckles.
I started touring the world together with him. We went to the Grammys the first time together and we were up against each other. As much as I wanted to win that award, I wasn’t jealous that he got it first because my brother got it. I could only be happy for him.
Did you know him before he went to Chicago?
I met him when he came back to New York in 1987. I met him at the office and we just clicked. Frankie taught me about fashion. He taught me about colognes. Frankie taught me how to be classy because I was a ghetto boy. Frankie was all about class. Even his music. We worked together on many songs through all his productions and remixes. I think I did most of Frankie’s drums and most of his remixes.
His loss devastated me. His loss to me was really like the end of Def Mix and the beginning of the next chapter going forward because I lost someone who is a part of me. I’ve lost many people along the ways in my life but I’ve never been affected like I was with Frankie’s passing.
I’m better about it now. I get very emotional when it comes to him. Frankie was the Liberace King of House Music. Some people walk into a room and they light it up. That’s power. The power of Elvis Presley, Prince, Michael Jackson.
Those are the kind of people that we are to this business and I put Louie Vega in that category. We are like the last of a dying breed and we’re still working hard representing the scene.
Working hard and relevance are highly important to you still?
So, you can forget about that you have legendary status because what the fuck does that mean? You have to stay relevant. You have to evolve with a new generation because that new generation is going to carry you for the next five years? And then after that, the next generation for the next five years.
The older folks would be happy with you playing the same old same old and making the same old same old but they’re not the ones that are that are keeping you alive in the business. You have to grow.
I like ’90s stuff. I like ’70s stuff. Shit I like stuff from the ’60s. It’s like when it comes to my Sunday show, you have to project to people and educate the people on musical history. You can’t do it in a one-hour stream.
This Sunday, I’m gonna do three hours because in three hours I can really take people on a journey. I don’t care even if I start with reggae, Soul II Soul or even the Chemical Brothers. This is what my Sunday show is about; teaching people music history.
And you know what? I’m not at a club with a dance floor; It’s about the energy and education you can project because you don’t have a 1000 people in front of you and one idiot that doesn’t like your music and gives you that sour face. If you don’t like the music change the channel
Check out ‘Live For Centerforce Radio Takeover’ featuring David Morales:
I don’t understand why people feel the desire to express negativity on social media when someone is always doing their best to entertain them. If you don’t like it, don’t say anything at all.
If you look at social media today it’s all negativity. So, to me, you could be Mother Teresa and somebody will say something negative. When I first started streaming, I was playing some Michael Jackson and someone started some negativity and I shut it down and called him out.
Streaming is you coming into my house. So, if someone comes into your house and spreads negativity you kick them out. I’m here to bring sunshine and happiness to people during a moment that people need some positivity. So, take your negativity and stick it up your ass.
First of all, you don’t know nothing about Michael Jackson. Your views are your views. Keep it to yourself because with social media, nobody has any proper information. You have no first-hand knowledge about nothing. So how dare you think that you are allowed to have an opinion on my stream…
So even though people don’t want to hear the same thing over and over again, I’m going to draw you back to the Bad Yard Club, which was one of my favourite pieces of work you’ve ever done. Is there a desire to bring some of the members back together and get in the studio?
I couldn’t even find them if I tried but let me tell you something. Anastacia, who’s one of the biggest stars right now, sang on my album. She was a baby. She was a dancer at a club.
I have a record that I did with her that hasn’t been released and I have to check with my lawyer if I can release it. It’s beautiful. It’s amazing. It’s got some of the best musicians in the world playing on this record. It’s called I Live For You.
I spent two weeks in Jamaica working with Sly and Robbie. I told my wife I have worked with some of the best legendary musician producers in the world. Sometimes you end up forgetting about that and that these people will always be a part of my history.
I was blessed. That whole education is what brings my story full circle to this moment because nothing has changed. Would I love to spend two weeks in Jamaica again and work with Sly and Robbie? Absolutely.
So you have done over 500 remixes. What’s the essential elements that have to hook you in for you to work on it?
When I was a machine remixing records, I didn’t have the same thing as I have today. I don’t understand why people remix instrumentals because there’s nothing to mix unless there’s some sort of hook like ‘Plastic Dreams’.
In general though, it has to be a song. It has to be something that I can work with; something that I feel that I can take to the next level. I don’t do a remix because I have to. I’m a producer. I’m making my own records.
In the old days, I gave away too many productions. I have remixed records and those remixes gave the original producer millions of dollars and made a record go platinum; not the original.
I was Mr Fix-It. I am not Mr Fix-It anymore. I’m not going there anymore. People can send it to me and if I like it, if I can bring something to it and take it somewhere else, I’ll do it because I like having fun.
Check out David Morales’ ‘Needin’ U II’:
So you’ll be perfectly place to comment on this endless conveyer belt of edits that have been coming out.
If it is for yourself there’s nothing wrong with it. If you play somewhere and play your own edit that is great for the people that know the track. I think it’s criminal to release it under your own fucking name and call it your track. I think that’s criminal. To release it under your name that’s a crime.
You’ve had some trials and tribulations throughout your life. What have all of those challenges taught you about yourself?
First of all, nobody’s perfect. We all make mistakes. And you’re supposed to learn from your mistakes. My path, my journey, my life has been very colourful.
From the whole beginning to today; I have been very fortunate. I live in Europe. I’m David Morales. I have a Grammy. Remember, I am that DJ that used to go to a store and buy records and never expected to be where I am in my life today.
So the trials and tribulations was going to prison and all these kind of things. It’s about learning about yourself and to be grateful and humble and not take things for granted because we all take too many things for granted. So yeah. Humility and being grateful.
We saw some footage of you, I think it was last year, you’re on the dance floor getting up and having a boogie, which was great to see you just like a normal punter. Who still gets you up and moving?
I can’t say what DJ because that wouldn’t be fair to the new kid on the block and I don’t want to sound like some old guy. Because you never know.
Now if you asked me, who I would choose to go to dance to; that would be Norman Jay, Louie Vega and of course Frankie Knuckles. There’s some other people that I can’t name because you just never know. I like people that play music that give energy. I don’t care what style of music that is.
- Do you have a favorite label? Philly, Philadelphia International.
- Favorite club? Right now it will have to be Contact in Tokyo.
- Love is….? Love is unconditional.
- What are you most proud of? Myself
- Who gives you the best advice? My wife.
- How big is your vinyl collection? God knows. It’s all in storage. I don’t even know. I never counted.
And finally, you’re playing your ultimate gig, who is standing on stage with you?
My two boys.