Honey Dijon: “I believe great music has no expiration date”

Honey Dijon is deeply intertwined with house music — she’s been living and breathing the culture before it even had that name. Born and raised in Chicago as a melting pot of musical styles - spanning disco, funk, soul, jazz new wave, R&B, pop, industrial, and more - were merging under an umbrella movement, her immersion in it pre-dates her teenage years.

DJs would play dances held in the auditorium of her high school when she was 12, as a teenager she’d get down to DJs in skating rinks, and then when a backlash against Black music in the city (most notably with the Disco Demolition night of 1979) sent the sounds into the underground, she made her way through the hedonistic Black, Latin and queer bars and clubs such as Rialto Tap, Club LaRay and The Muzic Box with a fake ID in hand. There are few people in the world better placed to speak on the enduring power of house music and represent its potential to change the world one, party at a time.

Her DJ sets are an exhibition in everything bold and inspiring about dance music, communicating the joy of freedom, self-expression and finding your people that the “sacred space” of the dancefloor facilitates. House music shaped her, and now she’s spreading that energy worldwide as one of the best-loved DJs on the planet.

You’ll be able to see her mastery in action at the final stop of the Burn Energy Tour 2024 in Barcelona on December 7, where we’ll be celebrating the inclusive power of dance music and the Catalan capital’s creative community, throwing a party and workshop aimed at keeping that energy moving.

It’s a city where Honey Dijon feels right at home and is well versed in rocking the crowds. “I love Barcelona. The city is sexy. I love the people. I love the architecture. I love the food,” she says. “To be honest I’ve seriously considered moving here many, many times and it’s something I would like to do at some stage in the future.”

Honey Dijon will headline a party at Nitsa, joined on the bill by new-gen jungle icon Nia Archives, and two leading figures from the Spanish city’s queer party scene, MARICAS co-founder ISAbella and MUSA resident Doppelganger, with tickets on sale now.

The workshop will be held at Perros Barcelona, exploring the topic of How to make nightlife a safe haven? with insight from some of the city’s influential figureheads.

Ahead of the climactic events, we spoke to Honey Dijon about growing up in the formative years of house culture, timeless music, her love for Barcelona, and preserving the power of the dancefloor as a sacred space.

You’ve been dancing at house music clubs since the early days of the genre. Tell us about what the scene was like during those formative years?

I always like to say that I was born at the beginning of a subcultural, countercultural movement that we now know as house music, but for me it was just part of the fabric of growing up in Chicago. For my formal education, I went to a Catholic high school, and if you know about the beginnings of house music culture, a lot of the early house music parties were held in high school auditoriums. I always like to say I was born at the right place at the right time for the right situation. I firstly started experiencing house music before I went to clubs, in skating rinks and auditoriums. I was going to these high school dances and it happened to be DJs, so that was my initial introduction into house music when I was 12 or 13 years old. Little did I know it would change the world — it's just what we did.

I always like to refer to that quote by Frankie Knuckles. As you know, there was a big demolition night in Chicago by Steve Dahl where they demolished all the disco records, but it really wasn't just disco records, it was Black music. Frankie Knuckles always said "house music was disco's revenge". So it just went underground and rebirthed itself as house music.

When I came of age and became friends with the second wave of influential house music DJs like Derrick Carter, Mark Farina, DJ Heather, DJ Sneak, [Chez Damier and Ron Trent’s] Prescription Records, [Green Velvet’s] Cajual Records, we started going to underground parties, loft parties, rent parties to pay the rent. This is how I grew up in it. It was just everywhere. Chicago was a very musically rich city, you had everything from industrial to new wave to jazz to reggae to rhythm and blues, it was just a part of growing up in Chicago.

So my early days started in high school auditoriums, then it went down to underground house music, 18 and over bars and gay clubs and trans clubs and Latin clubs. It was just a really rich time for me. I got exposed to a lot of different musical scenes and inspirations and clubs. Very lucky.

How has house music shaped the person you are today?

Oh my God! This has shaped me in everything that I do. You're talking about code culture, not only about the music but about the clothes you wore, the magazines you read, the language you used — like all subcultures there were all these codes. I continue that in my work today, in how I DJ, the clothing label that I design, Honey Fucking Dijon, is really a tribute to my formative years of clubbing and how people used to dress. Clothing was always more inspiration instead of aspiration, it wasn't necessarily about looking rich, it was more about 'I go to this club' and 'I'm into this DJ' and 'I know this music', and so that's how house heads talked to each other.

A lot of that language from that time was different, especially as there were so many DJs, we didn't deal with genres. House music became sort of something that was marketable, especially in the UK where they created all these genres, subgenres, and names and things, but it wasn't always like that. In the course of a night you heard everything from acid house to a new wave record to a disco record to a DJ Pierre Wild Pitch record to a Frankie Goes To Hollywood record. It was just a matter of: if it rocked the party it was played. That today still stays with me as an artist. If you've ever heard me DJ, a lot of my set is music without borders. For many years I wasn't understood as a DJ because people were like 'You don't play one sound all night' — because that's not how I was exposed to house music. House music was never just a 4/4 kick with disco loops, it was so many different influences, so that still sticks with me today.

You’ve referred to dancefloors as a ‘sacred space’ - what is it about that setting that you find so powerful and transformative?

Because we're all there in unity with sound, it doesn't matter what religion you are, what gender expression you are, your politics, who you vote for — people that love dance music come together for the love of music. I find that dancefloors are very egalitarian spaces. And also this music comes from queer people of colour, these spaces were safe spaces, you know, growing up in Chicago was very segregated, even if I went to white gay bars I would be asked for five pieces of ID, as opposed to going to a Black queer space where you didn't need that. A lot of people still didn't realise there was such a lot of misogyny, homophobia, transphobia, even within the gay white community in Chicago. These spaces were safe spaces. I sort of try to carry that ethos: it doesn't matter where you come from, it matters that you're here for the love of music.

People don't talk about how AIDs started the same time that house music also came of age. AIDs was so stigmatised if you were HIV-positive. So clubs were not only places for people to go and release, but also to find safety, to find community, find health resources, to be able to leave the world. So dancefloors are very sacred spaces.

In Spain, where you're headlining the next Burn Energy Tour party, religious conservatism is a feature of society, but there are a number of LGBTQI+ collectives in Barcelona who have been working to fight against this to uphold nightlife as a place for marginalised people to live freely. We’ll be hosting a workshop on the topic of How to make nightlife a safe haven. What are your thoughts on how to preserve that?

That's a complicated situation to talk about because gentrification and the cost of living has a lot to do with having access to spaces in our major cities. Cities like London, New York, Paris, Barcelona, they're increasingly harder for young people to go and discover themselves, and things are being pushed further and further out. I try to do that with the parties I participate in and the things that I throw. But I think that is a bigger question, because we're talking about issues that are beyond club culture. We're talking about just having access.

Underground spaces in our cities were able to thrive because they were in less desirable neighbourhoods. Especially in New York, it was in the Meatpacking District. It's a classic scenario, queer people and people of colour come into a space and make it cool, and then corporations want that coolness, and they push out the people who created the desirable space to begin with. It's a bigger conversation than just a party or a DJ. Preserving safe spaces needs to be worked within the infrastructure of cities, to recognise the cultural significance of club culture and what we bring to these cities. I think that needs to be recognised first and that needs to be preserved.

You're someone who’s interested in bridging the past, present and future, and do so with your DJ sets. As house music culture keeps evolving as a global movement, do you think there are essential elements that should be honoured and preserved?

First of all I don't believe in 'past, present and future', I believe that's capitalism. Most things in dance music are marketed to be selling the Emperor's new clothes. I find it really interesting now that this really fast, 150 BPM techno is the trend du jour for a lot of kids but there was happy hardcore, Goa trance — they're rediscovering all these things that are new for them but are not new, if you know what I mean. I believe great music has no expiration date, sonically you still have people making music with [Roland] 909s, 808s, 707 drum machines. It's not about old or new, it's about a vibe, and for me, it's about storytelling. My work is deeply rooted in queer Black culture and Black American music art forms: jazz, gospel, disco, R&B. But I also embrace a lot of things that come out of Europe, I love minimal, I love tech-house, UK garage. I love so many different forms of music, and for me it's not so much a genre but a feeling. I care more about how music feels than what people think about it.

How do you think young people are connecting with house music? Do you see new generations being influenced by it in the same way?

I don't necessarily know if we live in a time where inspiration comes from the same places as it's come from before. Especially now, this is the first time in living history that we've gone through a pandemic, so if you were 15 in 2020 and came out at 18, your whole experience of dance music may have been on the internet or DJs' livestreams. Social media has obviously changed how DJs break through as an artist. So I think they engage in a way that reflects the time they were born and is of their generation. But I still think the pandemic has played a big role in transforming club culture into what it is today. I still don't think we've seen the total effect of all of us being isolated for years; you're only talking about the last two years that things have started to be up and running again. I have hope that something new will come, and there will be new sonics and new stories. I'm sure there's things that are already germinating that I don't even know about. There's always an underground. Always.

In Barcelona you’ll be playing alongside Nia Archives. You mentioned you don't believe in music having an expiry date, and she is someone who's really captured the youth and feels like a musical leader for a new generation in jungle. Are you a fan? and looking forward to playing with her?

Yeah, you know, I always like to see what the new children are up to... to see what you got! I miss the prior days of when there was friendly artistic competition, like, 'what you got?!'. It pushes you to be a better artist and better DJ. It's not even a competition, it's more like, we're both here, let's push each other further. It's friendly inspiration. And I play for new generations all the fucking time. I don't play for a bunch of 70-year-olds!

In terms of inspiring new generations into dance music culture, what do you think are the important things to help the scene sustain? Do you think grassroots energy and community building are important?

Community building is super important. But also, artists having a clarity of what they want to say, and having the conviction to stick to that clarity. It took me many years for people to understand what I did and to find my audience, but I was very consistent in what I was saying.

I always say that I'm incredibly lucky to have a career built on the backs of those before me, and that's why I talk about that so much, because there are a lot of people who are highly creative that didn't get to tour the world or have the success that I get to enjoy. This is why I talk about the legacy of disco and the legacy of queer Black culture and the legacy of all those people who have gone before me. The Ron Hardys, the Frankie Knuckles, the Larry Levans, the Nicky Sianos, the David Mancusos, the Sharon Whites, the Yvonne Turners, Gene Farris, Armando, Danny Tenaglia. I stand on their shoulders so it's important for me to constantly present to people globally where this comes from and how they get to enjoy it. For me, I think it's so important to know where it's come from to know where you're going. And that also makes you a better fucking artist. There are artists who did stuff before me who I am just becoming aware of and I'm like, 'Wow I really get into this, so how can I make that my own and present that today?'. There's nothing really old or new, everything that's your art is basically how you sample it and put it back out there.

Do you have much experience with, or many connections within, Barcelona’s queer clubbing and creative communities?

Oh I love Spain! I love the warmth and openness of the Spanish community, their love of music and their love of life and their love of celebration and beauty. Spain for me is always a joy to come to because they're so spiritually connected to music and the joy of life. I'm so honoured that I get to go there and do my thing and it's appreciated there.

I’ve had so many good experiences in Barcelona. My last one with Jackies was particularly special. We sold over 6000 tickets and on the day we got freaking rain. We weren’t even sure if the show was going to go ahead due to safety issues with the sound equipment, however it subsided enough for us to squeeze in a party and the people showed up and we had over 6000 people dancing in the rain in Barcelona. The next day it was bright sunshine again like it had been for the previous months, but it didn’t matter because we had such a special night.

How have you found the crowds in Barcelona to play to?

Ecstatic! Ecstatic and fun. And decadent. My three favourite things.

Honey Dijon headlines Nitsa club in Barcelona for the Burn Energy Tour on December 7, alongside Nia Archives, Maricas (ISAbella) and Doppelganger, get tickets here

Barcelona is the final stop on the Burn Energy Tour 2024, following events in Budapest, Warsaw and Venice. Stay tuned to Burn Energy and Mixmag’s Instagram pages for updates.