9 March 19-25, 2026 miaminewtimes.com | browardpalmbeach.com NEW TIMES | CONTENTS | LETTERS | NEWS | NIGHT+DAY | CULTURE | CAFE | MUSIC | W hile the rest of the United States celebrates the end of winter, March brings a different type of party to Miami. DJs, producers, la- bel heads, and fans from around the world flock to South Florida for a week-long electronic dance music marathon that takes over the entire city. From Factory Town in Hialeah to ZeyZey in Little Haiti to pool parties all over Miami Beach, the event attracts hundreds of thousands of people year after year. Love it or hate it, there’s no denying the spot- light Miami Music Week shines on the Magic City. “It’s incredible because it brings global atten- tion to Miami and our music culture,” says local DJ, Nat Siriani. “At the same time, it can feel a lit- tle overwhelming because the city gets so packed and oversaturated. The community aspect is still there, but when something gets this big, it natu- rally changes the dynamic a bit.” Miami Music Week, which dates back to 2011, has certainly changed over the years. It’s no lon- ger the industry gathering focused on networking that it was back in the early Winter Music Confer- ence days. “My first MMW was about attending the con- ference panels and pool parties associated with them. I met cool people, networked, and discov- ered new music,” says Miami DJ and producer, Tegan Issartel, who was around for the transition from WMC to MMW. “Ultra grew bigger and big- ger and threw competing parties with WMC; eventually, the panels and events were no longer relevant because the talent wasn’t there.” And although Winter Music Conference still has a home here, it’s impossible to argue that Miami Music Week hasn’t become more about the club takeovers, brand installations, and label showcases. “The week has grown massively, which is amazing, but it’s also become a lot more satu- rated with events, DJs, and crowds. It’s bigger than ever, which has its pros and cons,” explains Siriani. Local DJ, Katie Ox, who recently had her Floyd debut and will be performing at Factory Town during MMW on Thursday, March 26, agrees. “There are so many more people in town for it! Shows happening everywhere! There are a lot more big shows and not as many smaller venues as before,” says Ox. “MMW attracts the masses, and those masses want to see the biggest head- liner names, which makes it harder to throw smaller parties.” “One of my favorite MMW memories was see- ing Simian Mobile Disco play all night long in a 200-person room at the Vagabond in Overtown,” Ox remembers. “Venues like the Vagabond just don’t exist anymore, and if they did, they would probably be booking seven different DJs with one-hour time slots in order to ensure that the party brought enough people.” Despite its commercialization, Miami Music Week still carries a strong underground spirit. But with so many of our iconic venues shutting their doors, which dance floors can you actually find the local scene on? “Dante’s, Las Rosas, Factory Town and Space (if they’re on the guestlist),” says ZeyZey pro- moter Tokyo. “The smart ones that know me go to ZeyZey. I’m excited to see what Midline has been cooking. I think Where Are My Keys? might do something, and if they do, that’s definitely where the industry locals go after clocking out.” Just maybe think twice before rushing to DM your favorite promoter with a guestlist request. “The keyword in the guest list is guest,” says To- kyo. “And most of you invited yourselves, so act right. Be patient, be polite, and be grateful. Most importantly, be early (and bring coffee/sealed snacks).” It’s not surprising that regulars of Miami’s nightlife scene try to avoid Music Week’s biggest, most popular events. Lines are longer, tickets are more expensive, dance floors are packed, and the vibes can simply feel off. Miami’s reputation as a party destination is no secret, and it has a real influence on the type of visitors who come here, especially for events like MMW. One of Siriani’s biggest pet peeves is the way tourists treat the city. “People come for a good time but forget that locals actually live here. I always say if you’re visiting Miami during this time, treat the city with respect and care for it like it’s your own.” Ox shares a similar view. “I think the biggest harm is the litter that our guests leave behind.” It’s easy to focus on the negatives when it comes to Miami Music Week (heavy traffic, crowded venues, rising prices), but it does also create important opportunities for the local scene. “The locals that are really invested in the com- munity spend most of their music week trying to support their local friends for some of their big- gest gigs of the year,” says Tokyo. “We all know John Summit and Green Velvet will be back in a few weeks, and those MMW events get over- crowded with tourists that are upset that their overpriced GA ticket doesn’t grant them personal space.” The truth is, for everyone visiting from out of town, Miami Music Week only comes around once a year, but for the local scene, it’s a way of life. “People don’t understand that nowadays in Miami, random weekends with the right parties happening can feel just as fun as Music Week, without all the hype,” Ox says. “Miami hosts big parties year-round.” Or as Tokyo so elegantly and succinctly put it, “Stop pretending this shit is only a week.” HATE IT OR LOVE IT How locals really feel about Miami Music Week. BY PABLO CHACON ALVAREZ them,” says Gonzalez. “We’re just doing rounds all day,” mentions Val- dez. “We all felt so good. People think shuffling and dancing is easy, but what they don’t see is that it re- quires so much cardio. I just keep being proactive over and over. I barely run because shuffling is enough cardio.” Marinucci states that there is a “misconception that people don’t know if we’re in sync or not.” She clarifies that, for example, when there are more than two Angels on stage, the choreography will likely be synchronized, with their bodies moving in unison. When it’s re- duced to two, it’s likely a freestyle between them. “But I swear, it’s through osmosis, and we become one,” she says. Another misunderstanding is that every Angel was dancing before they could walk. Kong, however, learned to dance at Florida International University, where she joined a hip- hop group in college and took dance electives. “After that, I went to stu- dios and paid for drop-in classes. If it were fun, I would continue.” If Ultra can spend on an other- worldly production quality, then why are dancers necessary to an at- tendee’s experience? Each Angel tracks it down to the unimpeach- able human spirit. To see real feet pound the pavement or twirling overhead to the masses is some- thing not even hundreds of LEDs can match. “It’s a very intimate setting dur- ing the day, because you can actu- ally see people’s faces, and people are blown away when I look at them and smile or blow them a kiss. They’re, like, ‘Oh my God, she sees me!’ It’s a point of connection in a very big space that feels so power- ful,” says Malia Faith. Valdez notes that “lights and lasers are impor- tant, but it’s an actual human ele- ment.” Marinucci adds that the “people can feed off your energy, I feed off their energy.” Practice ended, and the mood was as high as when it began. The Angels take selfies, smile, laugh, and go out for tacos afterwards. Even if it’s only for a couple of days during a chaotic week, it’s a family taking care of each other year-round. “The dancer adds a bit of femininity to a stage that is very masculine with the DJs, lights, and lasers,” posits Kansas. “It’s all very tough, very strong. And we’re real. It’s not pro- duced.” Ultra Music Festival 2026. Friday, March 27, through Sunday, March 29, at Bayfront Park, 301 Biscayne Blvd., Miami; ultramusicfestival. com. Tickets from $539.07 via ultra- musicfestival.com Heels from p8 Nat Siriani Photo by Sean Magill
