lavito

One of the things I enjoy most about playing in Lisbon is that you never really know where an opportunity might lead.

This summer, I had the chance to play at Sorry Mademoiselle. I started out as one of the DJs opening the night, which meant setting the tone, warming up the room and giving the evening somewhere to go.

Opening sets are interesting because you have to think differently. You're not necessarily there to deliver the biggest moment of the night. You're helping create the atmosphere that allows everything else to happen. You need to read the room, understand the crowd and know when to build and when to hold back.

I actually enjoy that responsibility. It forces you to think about the whole experience rather than just your own set.

What made this summer particularly special was seeing how things developed. As the weeks went by, I went from playing as a starter DJ to becoming the main act by the end of the summer.

That's a pretty special feeling when you're trying to establish yourself in a city where so many talented DJs are fighting for opportunities.

Of course, being given a bigger slot is exciting, but what means even more to me is the trust behind it. Someone has to believe that you can carry a night, connect with the crowd and deliver the energy people came for.

I'm still learning with every performance, and I know there are many more steps ahead. But looking back at where I started the summer and where I ended it, I can see the difference.

Sometimes progress doesn't arrive as one huge breakthrough. Sometimes it's a series of smaller opportunities that gradually become something bigger.

Sorry Mademoiselle was a good reminder of that.

And honestly, it makes me excited to see where the next summer takes me.

If someone had told me a while ago how this summer would turn out, I'm not sure I would have believed them.

Not that long ago, I was still trying to find my place in Lisbon's music scene. Looking for opportunities, meeting people, sending messages, playing where I could and hoping that the next gig would lead to another one. It's a part of the journey that doesn't always look glamorous from the outside, but it's very real.

And then this summer happened.

One of the moments that really stands out is playing at Casa Nolita in front of around 3,000 people. Three thousand people. When I think about it, I still have to let that number sink in.

There is something different about playing for a crowd of that size. You become aware of how much energy is moving around you, how a track can change the atmosphere of a whole space, and how many people are sharing that one moment together.

For me, it was also a reminder of how quickly things can change when you keep putting yourself out there. You can have periods where it feels like nothing is moving, where you're wondering when the next opportunity will come. Then suddenly, you're standing in front of thousands of people.

I don't want to make it sound like everything suddenly becomes easy. It doesn't. Every gig is another chance to learn, and there is still so much I want to build as an artist.

But this summer genuinely felt like a turning point. More opportunities came my way, more people got to hear me play, and I started feeling that the work I had been putting in was opening doors.

I'm grateful for every person who helped make that happen, every booker who gave me a chance, and every person who danced in front of the decks.

Three thousand people at Casa Nolita is a memory I'll carry with me for a long time.

And if this summer taught me anything, it's to keep going even when the next step isn't yet visible.

There are moments in a music journey when you stop for a second and think, wait, is this really happening?

Next week, I'm heading to Amsterdam Dance Event to play with What Da House, and it feels like one of those moments.

The connection started with Come Together, my track with ARTEN, released through What Da House. What began as a collaboration in the studio has turned into something that is now taking me to one of the most important weeks in electronic music.

I've always believed that you never really know where a track can take you. You work on something, put it out into the world, and eventually it starts finding its own path. Sometimes that path is completely different from what you imagined when you first opened the project in the studio.

That's one of the things I love about making music. You can spend hours working on a record without knowing who will hear it, where it will be played, or what opportunities it might create.

And now I'm getting ready to bring that music to Amsterdam.

For me, ADE is more than just another gig. It's an opportunity to meet people, exchange ideas, discover new sounds and become part of a scene that I've been following and working towards for a long time.

I'm going into it with excitement, a little bit of disbelief, and a lot of motivation. I know there is still so much I want to achieve, but it's important to appreciate these steps along the way instead of always looking at what's next.

So, Amsterdam, here we come. Let's see what this chapter brings.

And of course, Come Together will always have a special place in this story. 💜

Lately I’ve been in the studio with SOLLU, a Portuguese producer, working on a new track named “Home Pulse”.

From the beginning, it felt natural. Ideas coming quickly, no overthinking, just building on each other’s energy.

Those sessions are rare, but when they happen, you feel it immediately.

We’re planning to pitch the track to Magnifik, and honestly it feels like one of those records that has something special. Not in a calculated way, just in that instinctive feeling you get.

What I appreciate most about working like this is the exchange. Different backgrounds, different influences, different ways of approaching music.

It opens things up creatively in a way you can’t force on your own.

That’s one of the reasons I wanted to spend time in Lisbon. Not just to play, but to connect and create with new people.

This track is part of that process.

Let’s see where it goes.

I’m heading back to Belgium soon for a gig, and this one is a bit different.

I’ll be playing on a padel court.

It’s funny how music takes you to all kinds of places. From clubs in Lisbon to something like this. Completely different environment, different context, different crowd.

But that’s also what I enjoy about it.

Every setting asks something else from you. You can’t approach everything the same way. You have to adapt, read the space, understand what works in that moment.

I’m looking forward to bringing everything I’ve been building here in Lisbon back home, even if it’s just for a night.

There’s something special about playing in Belgium again. A different kind of connection.

Same intention though. Create something people feel.

I played at RiveRouge recently and it turned into one of those nights that stays with you. This club is a very known one in the heart of Lisbon and if you get there, you do mean something in the scene. 

The set was more Latin Tech House than what I usually play. It’s not exactly my core sound, but I decided to lean into it instead of holding back.

And the energy just built from there.

The crowd was fully in it. Reacting to everything, moving with every shift. It became one of those sets where you stop thinking and just follow the moment.

After the set, a lot of people came up to me, which already felt good. But what surprised me was that someone from YARD Festival came to talk to me as well.

I didn’t expect that at all.

It reminded me that sometimes stepping outside your usual lane opens new doors. Not by forcing it, but just by being present and giving your full energy.

That night was one of those moments.

Lisbon gives a lot, but it also demands a lot.

Since being here, I’ve really felt how deep the DJ scene goes. There’s talent everywhere. People with strong identities, strong networks, strong presence. Everyone is building something.

Stepping into that space makes you reflect. You start questioning where you fit, what makes you different, what your place is in all of this.

It can feel competitive at times. Not in an obvious way, but in a quiet, constant way. Everyone is working, improving, showing up.

But over time, I’ve started to look at it differently.

It’s not really about competing. It’s about becoming clear in your own direction. Understanding your sound, your energy, and staying consistent with that.

Lisbon is teaching me patience. And trust.

Because if you can build something here, it means something.

Some moments take a second to sink in.

I found out that Come Together, the track I made with ARTEN, got added to an official Tomorrowland playlist. Not long after, it also started playing on One World Radio.

At first, it didn’t fully register. I read it, looked at it again, and just sat with it.

So much of music happens in silence. Long hours in the studio, going back and forth on small details, doubting things, starting over. Most of that process is invisible to the outside world.

And then suddenly your track is playing on platforms you’ve known for years, platforms that felt far away at some point.

It’s not even about the “achievement” itself. It’s more about realizing that the music traveled. That something you created reached places you didn’t expect.

It felt like one of those quiet dream moments. The kind you don’t immediately share, you just take it in.

Grateful for it. And aware that it’s just part of a much bigger journey.

Valentine’s night at Beijo had a certain kind of energy. People were close, the room felt warm, everything just a bit more alive than usual.

I had my track Fever ready in the set, but I wasn’t fully sure when or if I should play it. It’s a weird feeling, playing your own music for the first time in front of a crowd. You don’t know how it’s going to land outside of your own world.

At some point I stopped thinking about it and just went for it.

I dropped the track.

And almost instantly, something shifted. People reacted in a real way. Not polite, not forced. Just movement, energy, connection. Some people singing along, others just fully in it.

I remember standing there for a second thinking, this is actually happening.

It was the first time I played my own song in a set like that, and the first time I felt it live through other people.

That moment stayed with me. Because it’s one thing to make music, but it’s something else when it starts living on its own.

That night, it did.

There’s something about Lisbon nights that feels like they’re testing you.

A few days ago I played at Yamore. It was set up as a contest with 10 DJs on the lineup, all bringing their own thing, all clearly there for a reason. You could feel it before even starting. No one was just casually playing, everyone wanted to leave an impression.

When I stepped behind the decks, I told myself to just stay in my flow. No overthinking, no trying to impress, just play what feels right and trust that.

The set had its moments. Times where the crowd really locked in, times where I had to adjust and read the room again. That back-and-forth is what I love the most, that invisible connection you build in real time.

At the end of the night, they selected 3 DJs to move forward.

When they called my name, it didn’t feel loud or crazy. It felt calm. Like a quiet confirmation that I’m on the right path.

Lisbon is not an easy place to stand out. There’s a lot of talent here. So moments like this feel earned.

I left that night feeling grateful, but also focused. This is just one step.