For almost ten years, François X has been in the studio and behind the decks producing high-energy yet deep tracks, as well as DJing in clubs like Berghain. The experiences he’s lived, paired with his skills, his emotional personality, and a brain activity that, in his own words, “is really too much,” all converge in his latest EP, Straight Edge Society.
Many people wouldn’t think of techno as an emotional music genre; but to François, it is. And that’s because he wears his heart on his sleeve, never shying away from what he’s feeling. On the contrary, he uses that as fuel for his artistry. “It’s about the soul you put into your music, how raw and profound it feels. Deep can mean melancholy, sadness, or even sorrow,” he tells METAL in this interview. “I’m an emotional person, sometimes too much, and that naturally comes through in my music.” Today, we speak with François about being a workaholic, how the DJ booth and the studio feed off each other, and partying in places with a no-photos policy.
Bonjour François, thank you for speaking with us. You’ve recently released the EP Straight Edge Society and presented it at UA122E club a few days ago. After such a busy schedule, do you have plans to relax and unwind a little bit? What do you like to do in your free time?
Hello, Arnau. Nice to meet you. Yes, it has been a super busy schedule, which I enjoyed — I’m somewhat of a workaholic. Relaxing and unwinding is somewhat challenging for me because I don't really know how to pause. Most of my free time is spent geeking out on the internet, trying to learn new skills like video editing or graphic design. Additionally, I play a lot of tennis and try to watch movies, especially old Japanese films or classic French movies from the ‘60s and ‘70s. However, I do realise the importance of learning to relax to reset my brain and maintain physical health. I’m okay, I’m good. I mean, I'm in good shape, but the brain activity is really too much.
You’ve been DJing for many years now — a little bit over two decades, if I’m not wrong. But what attracted you to music in the first place? Being a DJ wasn’t as attractive in the early 2000s as it is now.
To be precise, I started DJing outside of my bedroom almost twenty years ago, but I became a full-time professional DJ a bit less than ten years ago. My first connection to music came from my parents. I come from a mixed background — my mum is from Corsica, Italy, and my father is from Benin, in Africa, so I grew up surrounded by salsa, classical West African music, African American sounds, and artists like UB40, which my mum listened to a lot. Music was always around me. I remember when my dad bought his first CD player. He already had a turntable with tons of vinyl, but the CD player felt like a computer to me at the time — it really fascinated me. That was my first deep connection to music. As for DJing, like I’ve said in other interviews, the first time I went to a club, I was blown away by how loud the sound was. It wasn’t just about the volume; it was the bass and the frequencies hitting you physically. That was a game-changer. Even back then, being a DJ was already considered cool. I remember seeing DJs in magazines like Max and FHM, i-D or Dazed, which mixed fashion with club culture. You’d see brands like Helmut Lang and Jil Sander connected to that scene. It was the burst of clubbing culture in the late ‘90s and early 2000s, and electronic music was really taking off. Slowly, I started buying turntables and records, just trying to recreate the vibe I experienced in clubs. I was a clubbing addict, going out four times a week. It felt natural for me to become a DJ — not professionally at first, just as a passion, alongside playing PlayStation and tennis.
To you, music must convey some emotion, and your work has often been described as deep, atmospheric, and even hypnotic. How do you make sure that your songs, especially in your latest EP, have this emotive quality?
I think people sometimes misunderstand what I mean by ‘deep.’ Nowadays, in electronic music, deep often means soft, like the opposite of hard techno. But for me, it’s about depth, not softness. It’s about the soul you put into your music, how raw and profound it feels. Deep can mean melancholy, sadness, or even sorrow. I’m an emotional person, sometimes too much, and that naturally comes through in my music. The atmospheric and hypnotic elements come from my desire to elevate emotions, to create something that feels like it’s floating. I don’t intentionally try to make my tracks emotional; it’s just how I am. My music reflects who I am and what’s in my head. It’s not something I force; it just comes out that way.
Is there a specific way, ritual, or exercise that helps you channel emotions through music?
Good question. I don’t really have a ritual. My ideas often come to life when I’m not working. For example, I could be sitting in front of my computer, trying to make music, but nothing clicks because I’m overthinking it. In French, we say “avoir la tête dans le guidon,” meaning you’re so focused on something that you lose perspective. But then, out of nowhere, maybe I’m dancing in my studio, imagining myself playing a track, or even just taking a bath. I’ll get this sudden rush of adrenaline, like a spark. That’s when ideas hit me. It’s not the most efficient process, but it’s how my mind works. My brain is always hyperactive, and from that chaos, ideas emerge.
Being in the studio working on your own music is very different from being in a club playing for the audience to dance. Is there one experience that you prefer over the other? And how do they feed off each other?
For me, they’re the same. When I’m in the studio or in a club, I’m chasing the same feeling — those fleeting moments of ecstasy when I become one with the music. I imagine playing a track in a dark, intimate club with just a strobe light and people completely losing themselves in the sound. The main difference is that I’m more comfortable expressing myself alone in the studio because I’m naturally shy. But the energy I get from the crowd in a club inspires me when I’m back in the studio. It’s a cycle of what happens in the club feeding my production, and what I create in the studio shaping my DJ sets.
“The first time I went to a club, I was blown away by how loud the sound was. It wasn’t just about the volume; it was the bass and the frequencies hitting you physically.”
I’d like to know more about how you put Straight Edge Society together. Could you guide us through the creative process behind the EP?
This EP is made up of four tracks. The first one I created was Certified DNA, which I started about two years ago. It kept evolving because I was never satisfied with the final result. Long story short — I had an old computer that wasn’t working properly, and it really held me back when trying to produce on the road. It took me a while to admit I just needed to buy a new one. For this EP, I didn’t initially set out to create a cohesive project. I was just sketching ideas without any specific intention. Over time, those sketches started to take shape, and the tracks slowly emerged from them. For example, Got Me – which has a more pop-ish vibe compared to my usual work – was made in just one night. It was inspired by a personal experience, and everything flowed naturally in a single session. As I kept producing, the EP started to feel more intentional. I realised that whenever my mind was clear (without thinking about gigs, DJ sets, or life distractions), the ideas came more easily. Even though I don’t drink or take drugs, I realised I still had mental ‘parasites,’ like external noise clouding my vision. Once I cleared that, the creative process felt more fluid.
It makes sense.
With this EP, I wanted to focus on straightforward techno — no long intros, no experimental detours like on CEO with tracks like Infinite Anthems. I just wanted something direct, straight to the point. I did have three or four other tracks that I discarded pretty early in the process because they didn’t fit. The last track I finished was Unpolarized. I wrapped it up quickly, and as soon as it was done, I knew the EP was complete. It’s hard to explain, but I just felt it — like, this is it. No more tracks needed. The collection spoke for itself.
Let’s discuss the presentation of the EP. The location was bunker-like but, at the same time, had the feeling of an art gallery — if it were Berlin, especially. What role does the environment or the surroundings play in the whole experience and getting your message across?
I organised the EP presentation at UA122E, which is an old storage space in Paris that used to belong to a big department store. Max, one of the most forward-thinking people in Paris right now, gave me the opportunity to take over the space and do my thing. I wanted the event to reflect the vision of my label, XX Lab, which I created during Covid as a platform for my creative projects. The party was designed to feel like stepping into the world of XX Lab Corporation. Each room represented a different part of this fictional ‘corporation.’
Interesting! What did that look like?
There was an archive room where I displayed artifacts and limited-edition objects from my releases. Another room mimicked an employee room, but instead of staff photos, I showcased images from my merch campaigns. The main party space was the ‘strategy room,’ where we had custom lighting and massive logo stickers to set the mood. I love contrasts — the raw, industrial vibe of the space combined with sharp, classy design elements. That brutal tension between chaos and order reflects my artistic style. For me, it’s important to express my music not just through sound but through concrete, immersive experiences like this. Funny enough, this event gave me the idea to do more installations in galleries. I love creating fictional worlds, and this party was a perfect example of that.
You’ve witnessed the rise of social media and smartphones both in front of and behind the decks. Do you think people enjoy clubbing less now because of technology and the constant presence of cameras?
That’s a good question. I’m not sure, to be honest. When we compare the past to the present, we tend to romanticise our own memories. It’s hard to be objective because we’re really comparing different stages of our own lives — our youth, our experiences. For example, if I were fifteen today, I wouldn’t care about phones in clubs because it’s just part of life now. Young people today were born into a world with social media and technology. It’s their reality. You can’t really expect them to compare it to something they’ve never experienced. When I was young, I enjoyed clubs without phones because they didn’t exist yet. That was just the norm. But if I were the same age today, I’d probably be making TikToks like everyone else. It’s not that one era is better than the other — it’s just different. The world moves on with or without us. I don’t have a preference; I just try to adapt.
“I’m an emotional person, sometimes too much, and that naturally comes through in my music. I don’t intentionally try to make my tracks emotional; it’s just how I am.”
Berghain is known for its no-photos policy, which creates a more unfiltered, immersive experience. You’ve played there many times — do you notice a difference between the Berghain crowd and audiences at other clubs?
Definitely. Berghain has a unique vibe, but it’s not just because of the no-photos policy. The club’s origins as a gay sex club, called Ostgut, play a big role in shaping its identity. The sense of freedom and wildness is part of its DNA from day one. Of course, in spaces like that, privacy is key — you don’t want people filming you. So, the no-photos rule isn’t just about preserving the techno ‘purity’; it’s about maintaining an environment where people feel free to express themselves without judgment. This creates a special energy. The way people behave in Berghain is different because the environment allows for total liberation. But I also love playing in places like South America, where the vibe is completely the opposite, super open, with people taking photos and cheering like you’re a rock star or a football player in the World Cup. Both energies are amazing in their own way.
The EP is out via your own label, XX Lab, which you founded a few years ago. What prompted that decision?
I created XX Lab during Covid because I wanted my own platform to express myself freely. It’s been both exciting and challenging. Sometimes I feel like I’m moving too slowly, but it’s also a form of personal therapy, a diary where I can explore my ideas without constraints.
Do you think the main goals you had in mind have been accomplished, or are you still pushing for the same values and ideals?
I don’t think I’ve fully accomplished what I set out to do yet. I’m still figuring things out, growing, and trying to push the boundaries of what the platform can be. It reflects my strengths, but also my weaknesses, like being scattered or taking on too many projects at once. But I’m committed to it. The goals and values behind the label are still the same: to create a space where I can be authentic and experimental. I’m excited about what’s next because I feel like I’m just getting started.
Techno has always been there, but it went mainstream a few years ago — sort of replacing EDM. Now, it seems that the ‘trend’ is moving away. Would you say trends affect your artistry or the outcome of your sets and records? As a DJ, you bring your artistic proposal but you also need to read the room and adapt your set to the audience. But as a producer, I guess you want to present your artwork (in this case, your latest EP) as it is. How do you navigate this dichotomy?
For me, it’s all connected. When I’m reading the crowd, it’s not about pleasing them or playing it safe. It’s about enhancing the collective energy. Sometimes the crowd is too hyped, and I’ll play something to bring them back down, to create intimacy. Other times, they’re craving that peak moment of ecstasy, and I’ll push the energy higher. When I’m in the studio, it’s the same process, just more introspective. I’m still tapping into emotions, whether it’s mine or what I imagine people will feel when they hear the track. It’s not really a dichotomy; it’s a conversation between me and the listener. Sometimes I’m leading, sometimes I’m responding. But it’s always about connection.
I imagine you have a busy schedule ahead. Where can we catch you in the coming weeks or months?
I’ll be back in Paris soon. I’m playing at Radion in Amsterdam, and I’ve got a big festival coming up in San Diego, CRSSRD. I don’t have anything planned in Spain yet, so Spanish promoters, hit me up! I’ll also be back at Berghain soon, in the next couple of weeks. Plus, I have gigs all over Europe. If you want to catch me, just check my socials or Instagram for updates.