14 November 6-12, 2025 miaminewtimes.com | browardpalmbeach.com NEW TIMES | MUSIC | CAFE | CULTURE | NIGHT+DAY | NEWS | LETTERS | CONTENTS | Lore of the Dance EDX on longevity, legacy, and the changing face of dance music. BY OSVALDO ESPINO C hatting with Miami New Times from his South Beach apartment — the same spot that’s hosted countless Miami Music Week af- terparties, including the annual Sirup Mixer that’s brought the likes of Eric Prydz, Hugel, and more to his rooftop — EDX sounds as calm and grounded as ever. There’s no trace of ego or exhaustion in his voice, just the kind of quiet confidence that comes from knowing who you are and what you’ve built. For more than two decades, the Swiss- born DJ and producer has been a fixture in the global electronic scene, steadily evolving as trends rise and fade. From the under- ground days of white labels and vinyl crates to the streaming and social media era, EDX has managed to adapt without losing sight of his melodic, feel-good sound. Now, he’s re- flecting on the next phase — for both himself and the label that’s defined his legacy, Sirup. EDX describes his career, breaking it down into eras: four distinct waves that mir- ror the evolution of dance music itself. “I’ve been there when there were no downloads,” he laughs. “Then came the digital era, the so- cial-media revolution, and now this influ- encer generation.” Each shift brought new challenges, but also new ways to connect with fans. What’s kept him afloat, he says, is versatility. “I’m not a typical artist who has only one career lane. I tour because I love it, but I don’t have to. I have other things on the table that make me happy — and they’re all around music.” Those “other things” include label work, artist management, studio production, and fa- therhood. “Being a dad changed everything,” he admits. “It grounds you. It gives you per- spective beyond touring and releases. I don’t need to be the loudest in the room anymore. I just want to do things that matter.” Long before the days of social media snip- pets and pre-save links, DJs were defined by their ability to find music, not just make it. EDX remembers when exclusivity was every- thing. “When I was playing a record for four, five, or ten weeks, no one knew what the re- cord was. You couldn’t even buy it,” he says. “That mystery was part of the magic.” He reminisces about the tactile joy of dig- ging through crates, the late-night energy of record shops, and the feeling of testing a new record in a packed club for the first time. “Back then, music discovery was a sport,” he says. “Now, it’s an algorithm.” That shift, while inevitable, is one he ap- proaches with balance rather than bitterness. “It’s not enough to just spin anymore,” he ex- plains. “You have to make music, have a brand, build a following. But at the end of the day, you still have to deliver good records.” He pauses, then adds, “Music still needs time to breathe. Even in an instant world.” For EDX, Sirup Music isn’t just a label — it’s a chronicle of his journey. Founded in the late ’90s, the brand was born from a small cir- cle of Swiss creatives who wanted to cham- pion melodic house and progressive sounds that felt timeless. “The first release came in 1997 under Club Control,” he recalls. “We were burning CDs, mailing vinyl, testing tracks in clubs. It was all word of mouth. We didn’t even think about branding, we just wanted to share the music we loved.” Decades later, Sirup has evolved into a global label with a deep roster of artists and a signature sound that balances emotional depth with dance-floor energy. Its output has come to define a certain corner of house mu- sic — melodic, euphoric, and distinctively Eu- ropean, yet equally at home in Miami or Ibiza. “We sign records that move you,” EDX says. “Music that’s trend-setting, not trend- following. It has to feel honest.” He points to Nora En Pure’s “Pretoria” as a personal highlight — “that record had it all,” he says. “Melody, progression, emotion. With the right top line, it could’ve been massive. But even as it was, it connected with people, and that’s what matters most.” “I always tell my A&R team to find some- thing fresh,” he explains. “At one point, Avicii was fresh. Acts like Cya Squad, Daniel Port- man, and Nora En Pure were fresh, they went against the current. Back when every- one was chasing big, heartless EDM drops, they were creating deep, melodic sounds that felt human again.” Then he pauses, a smile audible in his voice. “I still remember when I was here in Miami, probably right around this same block, sitting with Avicii’s manager,” he says. “He played me what was going to be Avicii’s Ultra set, all these country-inspired records. It was so different that people thought he was crazy. But he did it anyway, and he proved everyone wrong.” To EDX, that moment perfectly captures the spirit of true artistry. “He was brave enough to make music that just felt good, happy, me- lodic, full of emotion,” he says. “That’s what music should be. Doesn’t matter how it’s dressed up or what genre it’s in. As long as it’s genuine, that’s what touches people.” It’s hard to talk about EDX without mentioning Miami. For nearly two decades, the city has been a cornerstone of his creative world. His South Beach apartment — with its sweeping ocean view, glowing sunsets, and a rooftop that has seen everyone from Prydz to Hugel drop in for post-show drinks — has become a gathering point for DJs, ▼ Music Music For more than two decades, the Swiss-born DJ and producer has been a fixture in the global electronic scene. EDX press photo Lift Every Voice Arts Access Miami expands with $5.6M grant. BY SHAWN MACOMBER I t’s always darkest before the dawn — and the future of much-beleaguered arts education in Miami is a considerably brighter after a landmark $5.6 million investment in Arts Access Miami by The Frederick A. DeLuca Foundation. It’s a major coup for Arts Access Miami, which, utilizing an innovative first-of-its-kind model, unites 25 of the top local arts nonprofits, schools, and funders in service of a single syner- gistic strategy. The organization believes the in- flux will empower them to “bring quality arts education to 90,000-plus students across 100- plus Miami-Dade public schools by 2029, with full-county coverage by 2032.” “This collective impact approach is unique in the country,” Arts Access Miami Director Alan Valladares tells New Times, citing partners rang- ing from Young Musicians Unite to The Miami Foundation. “Miami is setting a national stan- dard, proving that investors like collaboration and showing what can happen when organiza- tions stop competing and start collaborating.” This is no idle boast: Since Arts Access Miami launched in 2020, student participation in arts programs in Miami Gardens jumped from 27 to 81 percent. In South Dade, that number went from 15 to 40 percent — with subsequent higher atten- dance rates, improved reading scores, and positive social-emotional outcomes. “Through music and the arts,” Val- ladares says, “stu- dents are building important skills, in- cluding concentra- tion, collaboration, and perseverance, which support their overall learning.” As Arts Access Miami eyes further growth in its current beachheads and expansion into the Cen- tral Dade region, the goal is to ensure no school or student is left behind. “By aligning programs by neighborhood, we make sure every student has access to the arts, and no school is oversaturated while another has nothing,” Valladares says. “The Frederick A. DeLuca Foundation’s support will al- low us to expand a proven model and reach even more students and communities with high-quality music and arts education.” Success begets success, of course, and arts education could use a shot in the arm — espe- cially in Florida, but across the nation as well. If the Arts Access Miami “proven model” does in- deed become the “national standard,” that would be among the best, most fruitful of South Florida’s many cultural exports. [email protected] | CROSSFADE | “BY ALIGNING PROGRAMS BY NEIGHBORHOOD, WE MAKE SURE EVERY STUDENT HAS ACCESS TO THE ARTS.” >> p15
