by Zach Collier
Photos By: Clark Clifford // Creative Director: Zach Collier // Executive Producer: Celene Anderson // Hair & Makeup: Amy Morgan Davis // Styling: Elizabeth Banks Wertz, Alexia Capt // Cover Featurette Director: Noah Richmond
My conversation with Florian Picasso comes in the kitchen of June Audio Recording Studios after a furious 30-minute live DJ set. We sit across from each other at the table, really communicating for the first time since his plane touched down just a few hours before. The electronic producer, artist, DJ, and music curator flew in from his latest stop in Los Angeles to meet our team and perform a set full of brand new music.
As the creative director for the day, my job was ensuring that once the set began, it ran smoothly and uninterrupted. So I caught the set from an interesting perspective: outside. Florian performed in the house portion of the studio, engineered by Grammy-nominated songwriter and producer Nate Pyfer. Florian’s music pounded through the walls of the house, rattling the windows and spilling out into the otherwise serene sitting area beyond the studio walls. As the sun shone down on me, I felt a sudden, immense gratitude for that moment.
Here I was, enjoying sunshine while experiencing a master at work. Florian poured his heart into the performance, and the excitement and thrill of watching him execute his craft literally couldn’t be contained. It spilled out into the world beyond. For those passing by on the street, hearing traces of electronic drums and the low rumble of synth bass, they had no idea someone travelled all the way from France to Los Angeles and then again to Utah to make that faint music in their small town.
It was then that I realized just how important context and interpersonal connection were to truly appreciating something.
That theme of context, interpersonal connection, and art appreciation are major throughlines in our conversation in the kitchen. Florian Picasso is cutting through the noise of modern electronic music—not with fireworks or massive LED screens, but with a grounded, value-driven mission. Formerly known for his successful career in EDM, touring the globe and releasing a string of crowd-pleasing hits and high-profile collaborations, Florian is now in the midst of a radical rebranding rooted in authenticity, culture, and community.
“For a while, I was in electronic dance music,” Florian recalls, his expression earnest. “I’ve done a lot of tours, I’ve had actually quite successful releases, but then I, after COVID, I questioned myself a lot – why I was doing it, mainly.”
That period of introspection led him to a hard truth: scale and mainstream success had begun to disconnect him from the people around him. He shares with me a memory of being on stage and looking around at the crew and the people in the crowd and realizing that he knew almost nobody. “I began to forget about the whole point of music,” he says. “If you look at a big show – a big EDM main stage festival; if you remove everything – the production, the fireworks, the special effects – then it becomes a bit empty. So, yeah, with this new project, it's back to the roots, you know?”
Reflecting on his shift from EDM to the more raw and historical sounds of house and techno that he’s been injecting into his art lately, he says:
“I wanted to belong to a scene where people were fighting for something. When you see house music, when you see techno music, the way they were born is because they were anti-conformist, and they were also fighting an oppressing system.”
This isn’t a rejection of his past work—Florian is the first to admit that doing EDM had its high points and joys—but rather a conscious pivot toward music that reflects his personal values: rebellion, community, and cultural depth. The live aspect of his music is incredibly important to him.
“The shows I'm doing now, they're smaller shows, but the vibe is just crazy, and people are just having a good time, and the productions are not anything like what I was doing, but I'm getting as much satisfaction – even more – because the people, they come for the music,” he says with a smile. He enjoys finding people who actually care about the music; who actually care about the people around them; and who are building something unique.
One of Florian’s recent releases, a reinterpretation of Madonna’s iconic “Vogue,” exemplifies this approach to scene and sound. The track was released for free on SoundCloud, and the accompanying video featured a voguer from the Paris scene—an homage not just to the song, but to the deep culture that surrounds it. “It took me a while to understand all of this discourse,” he admits. “There’s a lot of code and a lot of things that go with the music.”
This respect for roots and context is at the heart of Florian’s new creative ethos. His transformation isn’t just sonic—it’s structural. Gone are the grandiose management teams and impersonal bookings. “I changed management three times because we were not sharing the same vision,” he says. “Big management, they promise you something, but in the end, they’re just trying to milk you.”
Now, everything starts with a clear purpose and genuine collaboration.
“Everything started to happen when I just had no restraint creatively, and also when I had genuine people believing in the project.”
One of those genuine people is Alexia Capt, who performs under the stage name CAPTNNN’. She’s a close friend and collaborator of Florian’s who accompanied him on the trip. Together, CAPTNNN’ and Florian founded DEKADANCE, a music and arts collective, as well as DKD Records, to help organize their community and push their music to the world.
Rather than chasing massive stages and blockbuster lineups, Florian and DEKADANCE have leaned into intimate shows, grassroots parties, and real connections. The move away from spectacle has allowed him to re-center on what music is supposed to do: bring people together. He’s wary of scenes where the art gets hijacked by superficial appeal.
Florian is also concerned by the performative aspects that dominate current electronic music culture, especially with the rise of social media. “You look at these kids, they’re just posting content on TikTok without understanding the values,” he says, referencing the surge in DJs gaining fame through flashy, well-lit and carefully curated performance clips. “The way they film, the way everything is executed… it’s all about performances and looks.”
He’s seen firsthand how TikTok fame can distort the music ecosystem. “Now I see with our parties, we try to book some DJs and their fees are going through the roof, because they’re getting big attention on TikTok. But this is not the point.”
For Florian, the real metric of success isn’t views, it’s community. “Honestly, we’ve been doing events with a lineup that is only me and my friends… even with all their views, DJs on TikTok are not bringing that many people,” he laughs.
The lack of real-world connection to their numbers has made Florian even more laser-focused on his core crew. “It’s much more about the community.” Their goal is to foster an environment where the experience itself is the draw—not the fame of the DJ on the flyer.
“We want people to come to the party because they want to come to your party. Not because there’s a big act.”
It’s a philosophy that echoes venues like The Comedy Store in LA, where audiences show up trusting the curation more than any advertised name. I share that comparison with Florian, as well as my recent experience there seeing some incredible new talent in between major names like Martin Lawrence and Jeff Ross – comedians so big they were intentionally left off the flyer.
“That’s the kind of cool vibe we want,” Florian says. “You trust the venue, you trust the curation, you trust the experience.”
Also at the core of everything Florian is doing now is a resistance to commodification. Music, in his world, isn’t content—it’s culture. “EDM is for the masses, right? But it’s also for as many people as can pay for a $300 festival ticket,” he says.
“It seems like you’re more for the actual masses,” I say. “The ones who can’t attend those over-priced live events.”
“Yeah, exactly,” Florian confirms.
This commitment to accessibility is why he’s passionate about creating events and experiences that feel real. Not just trend-driven, not just profit-driven—but rooted in genuine love for the music and the people it brings together.
Florian Picasso’s journey isn’t just a genre switch. It’s a deliberate dismantling of the systems that turn music into product and artists into brands. It’s a return to art as connection, as resistance, and as a mirror of culture. And in an industry obsessed with “bigger,” “louder,” and “more viral,” his quiet revolution is resonating.
“Now I want to settle down, and create experiences,” he says. He notes that doing things this way is the harder route.
“If you have a limited budget, the temptation is to just throw a party and book top-tier DJs – but that’s the easy way out. Our goal is that they will come even if there is no big lineup.”
In the end, Florian’s message is simple: strip away the hype, and return to the heart.
“I mean, I’m new to this business side of it, and we’re learning,” Florian admits. “But we don’t want to work with artists who are too cool to promote a new event series. A lot of them just bounce after getting their fee—they’re not even interested.” That realization led Florian and his team to take a step back and redirect their energy into something more sustainable and meaningful.
“We booked like 40 DJs last year, and we’re still going to do that—but in another format,” he explains. “Less stress. More focus on the core of what we’re doing: a community-based series where people come for the vibe.”
This ethos has already paid off. Through the power of grit and community, his indie label’s first release was picked up by several Spotify editorial playlists, a milestone Florian attributes not to industry clout but to effort and honesty. “We worked so hard on the pitch—on the storytelling behind the track. Labels don’t want to take risks anymore. So we took the risk.”
That DIY attitude extends to visual content, too. The visualizer for his latest release? “Shot on a vintage camcorder by a friend and Alexia,” Florian laughs. “Took an hour. People loved it. Because when everything is too polished, it doesn’t look authentic.”
His broader vision includes a forthcoming radio show and a renewed focus on music curation. “We want to feature curators who might only have 500 followers on Instagram, people who do it for fun and have day jobs but have amazing taste,” he says. “It’s not about engagement metrics. If the music is great, we’ll put it out.”
Florian’s new releases reflect this same spirit—eclectic, unexpected, and deeply personal. “Some tracks are crossover, sure, but that wasn’t the goal. We’re trying to build a bridge between niche audiences and the mainstream,” he explains. “I don’t want to be tied to one genre. A DJ set should feel like life—ups, downs, surprises.”
Above all, Florian is prioritizing sincerity over spectacle. “As we say: art before charts,” he concludes.
“We’re not chasing what’s popular. We’re building what should be.”
Make sure to follow Florian Picasso on Instagram. His new music is out everywhere now.
