The DJ was once invisible — a technician in a booth, playing records for dancers. Today, the DJ is the star. Headliners command six figures per set. Festivals are built around their names. But the culture that produced this shift has a history worth knowing. From the Bronx block parties of the seventies to the Ibiza superclubs of the nineties to the festival main stages of now, here's how the selector became a celebrity.

The Birth of the DJ

DJ culture began in the Bronx. In the early seventies, pioneers like Kool Herc, Afrika Bambaataa, and Grandmaster Flash didn't just play records — they manipulated them. Herc extended the break, the part of a song where the percussion took over, by using two copies of the same record. Flash perfected the scratch. The block party became the laboratory. The DJ was the centre of the circle, the one who controlled the sound. This wasn't about fame; it was about community and innovation. But the template was set: the DJ as curator, as technician, as the person who could make a crowd move.

The block party became the laboratory. The DJ was the centre of the circle, the one who controlled the sound.

Disco and the Club DJ

Disco brought the DJ indoors. Clubs like the Loft in New York and the Paradise Garage created environments where the DJ was the spiritual leader. Larry Levan at the Garage didn't just play hits — he built journeys. He read the room. He took dancers somewhere over the course of a night. The disco DJ was a selector, someone with taste and the ability to sequence records into something greater than the sum of their parts. When disco was declared dead, the culture didn't die. It went underground and evolved.

Chicago House and Detroit Techno

Chicago gave birth to house music in the early eighties. The Warehouse, run by Frankie Knuckles, was the crucible. House was disco's child — stripped down, drum-machine driven, built for the dance floor. Detroit responded with techno — colder, more mechanical, more futuristic. Juan Atkins, Derrick May, and Kevin Saunderson created a sound that would eventually conquer Europe. The DJ in these scenes was still a selector, but the records were increasingly made by DJs themselves. The line between DJ and producer began to blur.

Ibiza and the Superclub Era

Ibiza changed everything. In the late eighties and nineties, the island became a pilgrimage site. Clubs like Amnesia, Pacha, and Space ran from sunset until noon. DJs like Alfredo, Paul Oakenfold, and later Sasha and Digweed turned the island into a laboratory for progressive house and trance. The DJ became a destination. People travelled to hear specific DJs. The residency was born. The superclub model — big rooms, big sound, big names — spread to London, Berlin, and beyond.

People travelled to hear specific DJs. The residency was born. The superclub model spread to London, Berlin, and beyond.

The Festival Era

The rise of electronic music festivals — EDC, Tomorrowland, Ultra — turned the DJ into a stadium act. The craft changed. Big room drops replaced subtle transitions. The DJ became a performer, often more visible than the music. Some mourned the loss of the selector's art. Others embraced the spectacle. The truth is both exist: the festival headliner and the underground DJ who still plays for six hours in a dark room. The culture is big enough for both.

The Selector's Art

What separates a great DJ from a mediocre one? The ability to read a room. The taste to choose the right record at the right moment. The technical skill to mix without jarring. The willingness to take risks. The best DJs — whether playing a warehouse or a festival — understand that they're in conversation with the crowd. They're not just playing songs; they're building an experience. That hasn't changed since the Bronx.

From Underground to Mainstream

The journey from block party to stadium has been long. The disco backlash of the late seventies nearly killed the culture. The rise of house and techno in the eighties rebuilt it in the underground. The nineties brought it to the mainstream — first in the UK, then globally. The 2000s saw the superstar DJ, the festival headliner, the million-dollar fee. Today, the culture is big enough for both: the underground selector who plays for six hours in a dark room and the festival act who plays for one hour in front of 50,000. Neither is more authentic. They're different expressions of the same impulse: to move people with sound.

Why the History Matters

Understanding where DJ culture came from changes how you hear it. The breakbeat that Kool Herc extended is in every hip-hop track. The four-on-the-floor that came from disco is in every house record. The Detroit techno sound shaped everything that followed. When you hear a DJ build a set, you're hearing decades of innovation compressed into a few hours. The history isn't academic — it's in the grooves. The best way to honour it is to listen. To the classics. To the pioneers. To the records that started it all. They still hold up.

Neither is more authentic. They're different expressions of the same impulse: to move people with sound.