New York City – It’s 6 a.m. on Saturday morning in Manhattan’s Club Vinyl, and the place is as packed as it’s been all night. Forty-somethings, their Paradise Garage roots showing, share the floor with glowstick-bearing teens and pin-straight, muscle-bound Jersey boys, their blonde girlfriends teetering on Lucite heels. Chelsea boys vogue alone or in tight circles, while a handful of Euro tourists look on in some giddy form of awe. Vinyl has no air conditioning, no proper lounge (just a side room with some folding chairs), no exclusive V.I.P. area (a tight back room with a window onto the floor). The system is loud and indelicate; the light rig is about eight-fixtures strong. But the atmosphere in the sweaty room is electric, and the man in the elevated booth is the reason why.

Danny Tenaglia removes his baseball cap and wipes his head, squinting into the darkness to watch individual faces. He knows that Twilo’s closed tonight – a police raid based on minor building code violations has kept the NYC superclub padlocked the entire week, with a court date still some time off – and that a lot of that club’s dedicated patrons, some even wearing their Twilo-branded T-shirts and hats, have decided to give Vinyl a tumble. Since his President’s Day gig with Carl Cox, a transcendent night which shattered all of Twilo’s prior attendance records, Tenaglia has become a name on par with van Dyk and Digweed in the minds of the Twilo faithful, most of them kids still in the honeymoon phases of their clubbing careers. Most didn’t expect the dynamic, eclectic, progressive set that Tenaglia delivered – he was, as one young patron muttered on the bathroom line, “for the old people; Cox is for us.” But that same kid stood dazed on the dancefloor 10 hours later, shell-shocked almost by the sheer power of modern house music’s elder statesman; his ability to steer an entire crowd willingly in his chosen direction, whether it be through light garage or clanging techno or dark trance. He was hooked.

Tenaglia understands this new role of musical emissary – he’s remixing Billy Nichols’ “Give Your Body Up To The Music,” a West End record and originally a Larry Levan remix – with the express purpose of bringing it to a whole new generation. He sprinkles even his progressive sets with vintage house samples, vocal and otherwise. The Vinyl crowd is now almost entirely in DT’s hands – he drops Kings of Tomorrow’s lilting vocal cut “Finally” between two percussive stormers, and not one dancer misses a beat. It’s time for some Depeche Mode: “Dream On” into his own remix of “I Feel Loved,” right into the drum-heavy dub. Dancing around the booth with abandon, he mugs with a red, heart-shaped pillow with arms, straight from Ikea’s children’s department, which had sat calmly on a chair in his home studio just three days earlier. Soon it’s in the hands of an eager dancer, and this small interaction with the crowd, in addition to the recognizable tunes, is all the room one needs to take flight. There’s not a Twilo T-shirt in sight on the sidelines.

Danny Tenaglia’s career has moved in phases – from the gay-centered vibe of his Miami days and New York stint at Roxy; to his experimental period as a resident at Twilo; to the hard-house intensity of his time at Tunnel (when DJ Times last caught up with him). Each step along the way, he’s picked up new sounds and added them to his repertoire, both as a producer and a DJ. And most of the time, his residencies haven’t been able to keep up with him: Tenaglia knew that minimal techno wouldn’t fly with an anthem-crazy John Blair crowd at Twilo, or that groovy house just wouldn’t sit right at Tunnel’s D-Tour party. If you hear him tell it, it’s only at Vinyl that all the pieces have come together (despite its own brief NYPD-enforced shutdowns). This speaks as much to the club as to DT’s establishment as an artist: People don’t come to Vinyl or to Miami’s Space over Winter Music Conference to hear a particular genre of dance music, or just to party – they come to hear Danny Tenaglia, knowing full well that that could be anything at any time. DT has transcended type and category – he is his own.

Two hours later, the crowd at Vinyl has thinned a bit, but the dancefloor’s front line, stationed right below the DJ booth, is still inhabited by the same faces. Tenaglia looks out, smiles, and grabs for the mic, something he does frequently over the course of the night. “Now this is a Vinyl crowd,” he says, promptly dropping Cevin Fisher’s “Love You Some More.” The dancers cheer, blow kisses, and hug, settling in for another two hours of whatever Tenaglia feels like playing, because that’s exactly what they’re there to hear.

DJ Times: How have things changed for you musically since your last DJ Times cover in September 1998?

Danny Tenaglia: Tunnel was the most progressive and aggressive I’ve ever played. A lot of it I liked, but most of it I didn’t like, because when I wanted to get deep, I couldn’t. They allowed me that, the owners. Peter Gatien and the staff were like, “Do your thing,” but as a professional DJ I knew I couldn’t. I could have, theoretically. I could have done it if I wanted to, and there were times when I did, after I was there for a while. They knew I wasn’t trying to clear the place out. But I was only playing part of what I liked. Now I’m 100-percent what I want to be.

DJ Times: It’s interesting that what’s popular now in house music is similar to what you were playing at Tunnel.

Tenaglia: We could go back further and say even more so at Twilo – that was when that really all started for me. I was getting turned on to a lot of artists that are now becoming famous, like Timo Maas, Pascal F.E.O.S., Tilt. I look back now on some of my songs, and I’m like, “Oh my God, that was Timo back then,” I didn’t really realize it, you know? Back when I was there, Basement Jaxx were brand new on the scene, Daft Punk, that album had just come out, so I was bringing that sound in. I was helping [general manager] Mike Bindra somewhat – I was doing Fridays as well, informing him of who was hot at the moment, ’cause he had started to do the whole international booking thing. We brought Basement Jaxx in, Daft Punk in, DJ Pierre and Tom Stefan, a lot of people to open for me, play with me.

DJ Times: What was it like spinning in New York during that time?

Tenaglia: Right before I played at Twilo, I got a slot at Roxy. Twilo was pretty new at the time, and Roxy was dying at like 6 a.m. and everyone was going to Twilo, and I was doing really well at Roxy, and then Twilo was kinda like, not that they didn’t know who I was, but they were like, “Let’s get this Danny guy and maybe he can kick our afterhours in,” ’cause they just weren’t doing big business for them afterhours. Which it turned out to be the same thing for me, when Junior [Vasquez] was over at Arena, because everyone was going to Arena, for that late afternoon, 4,000, 5,000-people party. But I took the job at Twilo. I was there for 14 months, and in that 14 months, I was very experimental. There were times when I brought in all different promoters, from John Blair and Mark Berkley, to have that whole 7-a.m.-at-Roxy crowd, which I knew I had to cater to somewhat, to do my job, to keep them there. But overall, I was now embracing this whole new minimal tribal-tech, progressive sound, that was really entertaining to my ears, but it was difficult to play. I couldn’t play it whenever I wanted. And then come like 7, 8 a.m., when it was like, “Alright, this is where I’m going,” and at this time I was starting to conceive ideas, like my track “Elements,” I was getting inspired to make a song like that, the crowd basically didn’t want it, the majority.

DJ Times: Why not?

Tenaglia: This was when also the city was peaking with that anthem sound, that New York anthem sound, and I was totally not embracing it, I was totally moving in the opposite direction, and here I was in a room that probably wanted to hear it the most, ’cause a lot of the core gay crowd, they’re pretty segregated, they want to be where all the other gay people are, and a lot of them didn’t really want to be at Arena, because there were a lot of straight, Tunnel-y, Peter Gatien kids in there. So they would only get the real afterhour gay crowd that just wanted to stay out. So I would give them, like, maybe, “Unbreak My Heart” – I didn’t hate them all, but I was not going to play one after the other. So, like, by 7, 8 a.m., we started fizzling down. Pretty much by 10 a.m. we were done at Twilo, and that’s when the whole situation happened where Twilo went to meet with Junior, and they were in negotiations to bring him back, and then he declined, and then they tried to get me back, and then I said no, and that went on for like six weeks, back and forth. Then I went back, and then he decided six weeks later to say yes. I think they had known by then that NYU was going to buy the [Palladium] building. Whatever worked out, I’m happy it all worked out the way it did, in the long run. From there, Junior came on, and then I left. That’s when I went to Tunnel; we both started the same night on 27th Street, and it was fun. I just chalked it up as a new experience, faced it head-on. I wasn’t like, bitter. I’ve been doing this so many years. I love Vinyl so much, and I’ve been there, in January it was two years, but if it ended tomorrow, I know that possibility’s there. You don’t know if the owner’s going to sell the building, the cops are gonna raid it, whatever with this city. Some idiot might mess it up for all of us, you know, with abuse, and I’ll walk away from that with a smile.

DJ Times: What do you think of what’s happening with that, like with Twilo getting closed? The city is getting them on technicalities now...

Tenaglia: Well, I think the people are really not opening up their eyes enough to realize that they’re the ones that are messing it up for themselves in the long run – both the Friday night and Saturday night crowds, as well as every other club, not only in New York, but anywhere. You see so much stuff out in the open that I can’t believe it. It’s really the people that are doing it to themselves. What do you call it, “cutting off their nose to spite their face”? I’ve made announcements to the crowd. We’re just not tolerating it. I don’t care if we know you; if we’re best friends. If you’re caught doing something out in the open – we’d much rather you not be doing anything at all; let the music be your drug – but we understand you’re going to do things, but don’t do it here, ’cause you’ll be escorted out. And don’t even say, “I know Danny, I know Kevin.” Last month, I happened to be at Twilo. Timo Maas was opening up on a Saturday night. When Junior came on he made an announcement about, “Please stop this GHB stuff, because I want to keep my job, we don’t want this place to close.” To me there’s a lot more than GHB, you know. It’s like, “What about K? What about crystal?” I was happy to hear him really honestly stop the music and really make such an impact. I think that me and him are the only people really who have that type of personality, where we will get on the microphone, not be shy. This is entertainment, and we’re the voice of a lot of people. I don’t really know what else is going on behind the scenes with the city. They do have lawsuits against Twilo, that whole cooling-down room thing, whatever. They do have shit against them. So I wish them luck.

DJ Times: Does that affect what you do at all? Is there any sense that it will go away, at least in New York?

Tenaglia: I don’t think it will ever end fully. For me, what I do musically, I’ve always considered underground. I think there will always be a place for me. It may not be a mega-nightclub. But I’ll take my party to Jackie 60 and play for 50 people, and be just as happy. Of course, I’d have to travel and make money in other cities. It would be unfortunate that I’d lose that here in New York, a weekly residency that I can make a decent living from. I’d have to start traveling more often. But I’d still do small venues, like maybe the basement of Centro-Fly. I’d do a night there, something like that. I would still continue to work.

DJ Times: How has Vinyl changed since you started?

Tenaglia: I think it’s changed like I see every club change. There’s always new generations of people turning around, who all of sudden now turn 21, or who have been turned on to a nightclub for the first time, and that whole word-of-mouth thing, “bring a friend, bring a friend.” Mainly how I’ve seen it change is more than any club I’ve worked at I’ve seen and felt this intimacy and love from a dancefloor like I never had before in NYC. It’s an experience I thought I never would experience in New York, going back to my days of witnessing parties at the Paradise Garage, parties where people would really feel it in their soul, that it wasn’t a liquor club and it wasn’t shows, go-go dancers, that whole thing I often talk about. There were no distractions; it was about the music, and that’s what I think has changed for me and for a lot of people. When they go to other clubs – they might go to Sound Factory and Twilo and Roxy and Exit, and have a great time – but when they come to Vinyl they sense this difference. There’s that non-segregation – there is black, white, gay, straight, young and old, everything. It’s the only room in New York that can do that, not only on my night, but on the other nights as well. So it’s a very special room, and I think having the past that I have, knowing how to play from that classic approach, that room just seems to have that magic. That’s why I call it the only room left with that magic of what the Garage was about, and that’s what that room was originally built around, trying to be like the Garage. People come, they witness it for the first time, they get the vibe from the other people on the floor – they might not know the music, but they get it, and that’s a part of me. I play from midnight to 10 a.m., maybe every other week I try to give new DJs a shot. I have no problem getting on the microphone and welcoming everybody, make it like a little house party kind of thing.

DJ Times: As you get that younger element, is that affecting what you spin? Peak hour seems a bit techier...

Tenaglia: No, that’s just me going with what I’m feeling. To me, every hour’s a peak hour, honestly, I really feel that. Every hour is a peak hour. If I was playing Karen Ramirez “Didn’t Know I Was Looking for Love,” that’s not tech-y or progressive, but the crowd will go crazy just the same. “Finally,” the K.O.T. record, that’s a Body & Soul kind of record, black female diva vocal. Or the Depeche Mode, that’s just my remix, what I’m absorbing, and with my whole past going into it, but it’s not really tribal tech-house. That’s a peak style, too, so, yeah, I think of course I represent a more hands-in-the-air type attitude than others, and I want to keep that consistent for a few songs, but I never stay on the same style for more than five, six songs. It’s a cycle.

DJ Times: Do you think dance is going to keep growing to the point where it’s, like, kids spinning in the garage instead of having a band? Is it better to stay underground?

Tenaglia: I love it. The last time I went to Sam Ash I saw DJ in a Box – you get two turntables and a mixer for $299. I was like, “Where was that when I was 16?” Yes, I do hear that often, that DJ and CD set-ups are outselling guitars and keyboards, but I still think it’s gonna be rough, no matter what. The bottom-line is talent, and I think a lot of the kids that do want this today want it more for the hip-hop mentality, drum-n-bass, scratching and all that. I’d say that’s a large percentage of that. Some might want to do mobile, do parties, instead of being in a band and playing an instrument. For me, what I do and the reason why I prefer to see it remain underground is because the kind of music I play never really got proper radio support in America. There’s no Pete Tong or Danny Rampling in America, and unless we have that, what I do is never gonna fully be understood. So it’s like, to me, if I can make a good living and be happy, I think it just makes what I do more special.

DJ Times: Why doesn’t it get understood?

Tenaglia: I think if we take a song – let’s take “Plasmids,” by Tata Box Inhibitors, alright? Who the heck knows that? It came out years ago on a great label, Touché, I love all their stuff. Imagine that stuff being played on the radio. Now, Oscar G just did a remix of “Plasmids,” and soon as I put it on the place goes nuts, with that whole punchy tribal thumpin’ sound. A lot of people don’t know what it is yet, but they respond to it as this Danny, tribal-esque, Vinyl-type-sounding record. If that got played on the radio here in America, it wouldn’t come across, first of all, because it’s not song-oriented – verse-chorus-verse-chorus – and a lot of the music doesn’t have vocals. But even the ones that do – if they were played on the radio here 10 times a day, I probably wouldn’t want to play them. I figure, well, you can hear that on the radio, and there are so many great records being made today, I’m going to focus on the ones that need and deserve the attention. So, with something like Oscar G’s mix of the Karen Ramirez [“Looking For Love”], what are the chances that that’s going to be played on the radio? Nothing. But if it did, if they played it every day, I’d stop playing it. Because by then, it’s like, alright, I get so many records in the mail; so many people are making great tracks that just appeal to me. And now there’s all this modern technology, where for $1,000 you can buy computer software programs that have drum machines and synths. I mean, I have this program called Reason [by Propellerhead] that has your console, your patch bay – you’ve got everything. I couldn’t believe some of the sounds. I did a track on that in my house for the Conference. I was doing stuff in here and stuff in the house as well, and going back and forth. So to me that’s where the future’s at – kids buying not only Technics, but buying computers, and not just PlayStation sequencer-type stuff. People are going to be making tracks, and some are gonna be redundant, and some are going to be instant gems, like, “Wow, you did that? Your first song ever? I hate you.”

DJ Times: Do you think that the reason for going to clubs has changed?

Tenaglia: I think there are probably two main reasons why people go out; for many people, both reasons apply. People want to escape their lives – it might be their jobs, their school, their family, their home life, and that weekend, it can be one or both nights, of just losing it on the dance floor to solid, pumping music, is their way of releasing the stress. And the second reason is because they truly love the music; they really love hearing these songs and hearing what’s coming out of the speakers, and it’s making their entire week. That’s the type of person I was. I didn’t have a bad home life; I love my family. My main reason was I just loved the music so much, I wanted to be part of it. Every aspect used to intrigue me. Like, how does the music come out the speaker? It’s like how you look at a 747, like “How does that get off the ground?” That was me in a club. I was just so intrigued by it all, but more than anything the music really touched my soul. I was one of those people who could really be brought to tears.

DJ Times: Does that still happen?

Tenaglia: I wish I could say yes. There are so many DJs I respect and admire today; I just never get to hear them because of our schedule. But if John Digweed played every Saturday in New York, I’d be out. And so many other DJs, I can’t even go into the list of names. There are so many that inspire me; even the ones that aren’t so popular. I’ve met so many DJs in other countries that I’ve never heard of, they just happened to be playing on my night off, it’s like, “Who the hell is this guy? He’s phenomenal.” This last year alone, going to Ibiza and hearing music by Peace Division and Halo and Hipp-e, San Francisco picking up on that funky, percussive vibe. That really takes it right back to the Garage days. And I know, I know, in my heart of hearts, that if the Garage was open today, Silicon Soul, “Right On, Right On,” would be massive, massive, and so many other records I play. Some DJs might disagree, but I know, ’cause I was there. Don’t tell me; I know Larry would be playing this. Larry wasn’t afraid to play The Clash, or Madonna, Tom Tom Club – it wasn’t considered alternative or punk rock, it was just dance music. It was either good or it wasn’t. If he liked it, he played it. Kraftwerk came out, he played it. Nobody slagged him and said, “Larry’s a techno DJ.” I know some people in the business have talked about me and said, “Oh, Danny’s a trance DJ now, or techno.” Call it what you want. Say what you wanna say. I’ll just move on, smile, play my music.

DJ Times: How have CDs changed what you do?

Tenaglia: CDs are a Godsend for me. I used to travel with a lot of acetates, and not only are they heavy, but they wear out, and God forbid, you wouldn’t want to lose them. And now I have the capabilities of traveling with two boxes of records, and all my really important, private stuff on CD, and each one holds 74, 80 minutes. If I carry two books of that, 200 CDs each, I’ve got an incredible collection on the road with me. I have tons of a cappellas with me at all times, sound effects, everything’s loaded up right on cue. To do that with a record, it’s work. It’s already work – locate that CD, put it in, cue it up. But to have it on acetate, to cue it back, the needle would keep skipping; acetates are not friendly that way. So for me, CDs, as far as looping, that master tempo feature, I love it. I’d say 50-percent of my night is CDs. Even if I buy the record, I’ll burn it on CD.

DJ Times: How do you determine what to burn and what to keep on vinyl?

Tenaglia: A lot of the songs I like might be originally recorded at maybe 130 BPM or above, and sometimes I like them at 124, 126. If you pitch it down on the turntable, you’re gonna notice the pitch in the vocals, whereas on a CD player with master tempo you won’t notice that. Especially with classics – you can play a Michael Jackson record, if it was originally at 118, at 127, and he’s still in the same key. I’ve done that a lot. Even with a slower record, like a Sade or something, at 100, 102, it’s a little slow – to play it at 110 but hear it in the same key, a lot of people don’t realize it. But if you said, “Listen, this is it normal! Now listen to it plus-eight! It’s still in the same key!” I played Wham! at the end of the night at Twilo two weeks ago, when I played with Digweed. I played “Everything She Wants,” by Wham! That’s probably a record I’ve never played. I happened to get a compilation CD; I’ve been buying CDs. I’m not a fan of Wham! I’m not a fan of George Michael. You know, I mean, respect – “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go,” yeah. But I always liked the song “Everything She Wants.” Larry used to play it at the Garage. I’ve never played the song in my life. But I went to Satellite and I heard a bootleg of it. I didn’t like it; someone put drums over the original, sped up. I’m like, you know what, I’m going to go buy the original CD, and use the Master Tempo feature. So at the end of the [set] all the lights were on, I’m bringing it down to some classics. I pulled out like Jon Secada, “Just Another Day.” I can’t believe that I pulled stuff out like that. But I make it special. I load the CD, and I loop the intro, and people might hear the drums of Jon Secada, and they’re not sure if it’s going to be “Keep On Moving” by Soul II Soul, because that’s where the sample’s from, but with the Master Tempo feature, I play it faster. And I did the same thing with Wham! So I’d say for a good solid minute, you’re hearing the intro drums of Wham!, and whoever caught it is saying, [incredulously] “Is he playing Wham? I know that it’s Wham! – that mother-fer is looping it; is he going to release it and let it play, or is he just teasing us with those drums and going to segue into something else?” And then sure enough I release it, and then you hear George Michael [laughs], and the place lights up.

DJ Times: I hear you’ve been going out a lot more this year.

Tenaglia: I think it has to do with me being off on Saturdays. I have the option of going to Twilo or Sound Factory or Roxy. I like all the other DJs; I might not like everything they’re playing, but if I’m there for two hours, and they play three, four songs that I don’t know, that made my night. Those four songs, not only did I enjoy hearing them, but if I seek them out and find them, they’re going to be a really important part of my set, too, and that’s what it’s all about. When you go to hear Paul Oakenfold or Paul van Dyk, how can you not respect that 2,000 people are throwing their hands in the air to that? People like it. You can’t knock it.

DJ Times: What do see your position is in dance music now? You’ve really done this incredible job of not being able to be lumped together with any of the other DJs; not even stylistically or in terms of their skills, but a lot of people think of Carl Cox and Sasha and all those guys in the same breath, because they’re presented in a similar way. But you’ve managed to do it so that you’re really selective. How did you do that, and where do you think that leaves you in the grand scheme?

Tenaglia: I think it was all the years of doing this and pretty much doing it my way. I never really went into it to be a DJ like Carl Cox – there really was no one to look up to. I was just this little kid who loved music so much, but liked what I liked. I guess it’s kind of like comparing me to the Cocteau Twins – how many great albums do they have out, and yet they’re still underground. They just did what they wanted to do. They didn’t want to be a trendy little pop band. That was me – everybody loved playing certain songs, and I liked the B-sides. I always went that extra mile to make it more interesting. When someone asks me to describe my style, I tell them, “Well, I thought I described it on my first album when I called it Hard and Soul.” They said, “We know it’s hard and soul, but what do you consider it?” I said, “I don’t know what to call it,” and they said, “Ten words or less,” and I gave them exactly ten words. I called it, “tribal tech-house-trance, with a modern yet classic approach.” Just 10 words. I repeat myself when it comes to this type of question, because that’s what I’m doing. I’m just continually embracing modern technology. I’m loving what the 19-year olds are doing. I love what Carl Cox is doing. I love Francois [Kevorkian]; I love what all these legendary people are doing. I’m just sucking it all in from different countries, cities, different DJs, locally or not. It could be all these different styles; I just integrate it all. Sly and Robbie and Grace Jones, they inspire me big time, but then again, so did so many other people. It’s just all warped up here somehow, and I’m just delivering it back out the only way that I know how. And I think that having a forum [helps], like parties at the Conference to play for a group of people that understand me the best because they’re the most like me – DJs and producers.

DJ Times: Do you think that’s what the difference is, that you are kind of like the melting pot of all those things, that other jocks are more representative of one genre?

Tenaglia: Yeah, I guess it is that twist. I mean, you listen to Masters At Work, and it’s genius, and you call it Nuyorican Soul. They have that sound, nobody can do it better than them. Armand Van Helden invented speed garage. When he put out Tori Amos, I said to myself, “I’ve been doing this a lot longer than Armand Van Helden. I wonder if I will ever have a sound.” I didn’t think I had a sound. Now, via media, producers, and my peers, giving me props – now I know I have a sound. It’s where tribal meets progressive and deep. It’s always the kick in the bass and the underlying rhythm being the foundation, and all the rest is just icing on the cake. Warp it out, a crazy effect, a filter, this and that on top of it, and immediately it makes it modern. You’ve gotta strip it down to the drums and the bass: If you can groove to that, then it all depends on what you put on top of that next. I think that’s what we get from each other.

DJ Times: What’s next for dance music?

Tenaglia: Somehow, the way it’s all come around, where I think trance has hit its peak with its Euro-cheesiness – where people are saying, “Enough of this.” [He imitates typical trance keys.] Same thing with freestyle: How many freestyle albums use the same bassline? Same thing with deep house – how many people can make a record that sounds like Aly-Us “Follow Me,” or Ten City? It’s all been done before. So, now, in 2001, I think all these people that are producing, all the new producers on the scene, some are listening to the others. Deep guys are out traveling, at parties where the next room might be Paul van Dyk – how could you not ignore what he’s playing? How could you ignore what 2,000 people are responding to? And as a DJ, you buy records, you shop, you listen to what is being made. So, the deep people are incorporating modern technology into their deep stuff, the trance people are incorporating the deep stuff, the tribal rhythms, into their progressive stuff. The tempos: The deep stuff is coming up a little bit, and the Euro stuff is coming down. They’re meeting happily in the middle. I’d say 128 is the comfortable tempo zone. That’s how I did my remix of Depeche Mode; it’s at 128. You’ve got room to go a little up or down with, but anything over 130 or 132, loses its groove. You can’t bop your head to it.

DJ Times: What’s it like having this fully equipped studio right in your backyard?

Tenaglia: This is a completely, 100-percent Pro Tools recording studio. The console is a Pro Controller, 36 channels. It can be controlled either by the computer or manually. I did all the Depeche Mode work here, but I mixed it in a big console room, because this is still new to me. The only other song I mixed here was “Lady,” and I wasn’t completely happy with it sonically. And I can’t play extremely loud in here; it doesn’t have that nightclub vibe. I want those big speakers with the sub-bass, so I did all the drums and keyboards here, and then brought the session to The Cutting Room on Broadway, mixed it there, brought it back here, and I could make any changes I wanted. That’s what is great about it. I was really ecstatic that they approved it. They said they could say it was a labor-of-love mix, and that’s what I called it, “Danny Tenaglia’s Labor of Love Mix.” It really was.

DJ Times: What have your studio collaborations been like?

Tenaglia: I enjoy collaborating with Tarantella and Redanka. We learned from each other. We didn’t know each other. I was hearing their music; they were hearing mine overseas. They like the funky deeper side of what I was doing, and I liked the progressive stuff they were doing. We met in the middle and made “Datar.” I wasn’t musically trained; I didn’t study music theory. But if you listen to Tourism, like 90-percent of it is my instrumentation. I’ll find my way around a keyboard, thanks to the help of technology and sequencing, but all the basslines and chords and all those hooks, they’re my ideas, so I’m somewhat of a musician; I’m a frustrated musician. I respect other musicians, and I love to bring people like Peter Daou and keyboard players into my sessions, to put real musicianship into it.

DJ Times: They covered your Winter Music Conference gig in Rolling Stone, and the New York Times, and Spin, and on MTV Online. What do you think that means, for you, for dance music?

Tenaglia: It affects me in a strange way. I don’t really think much of it. They’re not really focusing on me, they’re focusing on the Conference, and the fact that I was one of the highlights of it, or my party was, which it’s been for several years now. I would probably have a different comment had Rolling Stone done a piece on me, and it not been about the Conference. Why doesn’t Rolling Stone care about dance music? I’ve played music by artists that they write about, that dance mixes have been done by sometimes, they just don’t care. I don’t really think much of it; I just don’t. I do respect that there are journalists out there who work for those magazines who pick up on it. But you talk to someone from Rolling Stone and try to describe the places I’ve been and the things that I do, they just think about raves and lollipops.

DJ Times: Do you see your career in phases? How would you describe the one you’re in right now?

Tenaglia: The best one. Yeah, because I think it’s just, I don’t know if it’s irony that the year 2000 happened to be the year that I decided was my 25th year as a DJ, or as I titled it on the flyer “in the mix,” ’cause I can’t say I was a professional DJ at 14, but that’s what I was doing. Once I discovered it, I never turned back; I never did anything else. I’m not embarrassed to say I left school to do this, because I pursued my dream. I couldn’t have learned what I know now in high school. So I pretty much left high school in 10th grade, because by then I was actively working as a DJ, whether it be at parties, proms, local nightclubs. I probably didn’t touch on this in the last interview, but back in 1975 was when the first 12-inch single ever became for sale – Salsoul Records put out “Ten Percent” by Double Exposure. And that was it. I was a DJ at the time; I bought it. And I figured, that was ’75 when that single came out, that’s a good year to round off on, and have the [Winter Music Conference] party at Space, our first year at Space, and say, let’s celebrate 25 years in the mix.

DJ Times: You’ve been recognized a lot lately, too…

Tenaglia: I’ve always had recognition in the United Kingdom and abroad, but last year seemed to be an exception. DJ magazine does the “Top 100 DJs in the World,” and three years in a row they put me as the first American DJ – I went from 13 to eight to seven, or something like that. That means a lot to me, but at the same time I’m not one to shoot for that No. 1 position. I don’t think I’m better than Carl Cox, Paul van Dyk; we’re just all good at what we do, at entertaining people. So to me it’s good to be recognized. Then Muzik magazine, when they started doing their “Top 50 DJs in the World,” they put me at No. 1! Then before that happened, I started doing the Global Underground series, and that put me on the map even more globally than prior with my association with Tribal and Twisted. I did Global Athens, Global London. Then Global Athens was up for Best Compilation of the Year at last year’s Muzik Awards – I can’t remember which it lost to. And then this year, I was nominated for Best International DJ and Best Remix for Green Velvet “Flash” and I won both. So I flew over to London; it was televised. It was just exciting, because I’m really not in this for awards. Whoever knew that there’d be that for a little kid who wanted to play records, not for fame, for celebrity, for status, for money. There was nobody to look up to in that sense to say, “I wanna be like him, to travel the world.” I just wanted to be like Larry or somebody, playing a big club with a good sound system with a crowd who appreciated the music that I was feeling in my soul, hoping that they would feel it too. Twenty-five years later, it’s come to that, but globally, so I’m on top of the world – thanking God every day.