I was 13, on holiday with family, when my cousins introduced me to the resident DJ at a nightclub called Lo Sgù. I’d stand behind the booth night after night, mesmerised as he worked the vinyl and rotary mixer, weaving together the soundtrack of the summer.

Then, one evening, chaos – and fate – struck. The USS Saratoga had anchored offshore, and the island’s clubs were flooded with Marines. My DJ friend spotted his crush in the crowd and was not going to lose his chance to a crowd of Marines. With panic in his eyes, he turned to me and said: “You know what to do – you’ve watched me every night. Cover for me.”

Suddenly, I was behind the decks: two turntables, a packed club of sailors, and no idea what I was doing. But as I dropped the first record, something clicked. I wasn’t just playing music; I was commanding the room. At 13, I was hooked.

The early years: Two Garrards and a school disco

Back in the UK, I couldn’t shake the bug. That Christmas, my sister was given a mixer with faders. I still don't know why, as she never touched it, so I commandeered it and started my journey to learn how to be a DJ.

Soon, I had my first deck setup from ABC Music: two Garrard MkIV turntables and a three-channel mixer with my first crossfader. I was in heaven. Hours melted away as I practised transitions, teaching myself the craft by ear.

At 14, my school asked me to DJ the Walton Leigh Christmas party. My first official gig. The kids loved it. I loved it. It was fun, and I loved the pleasure it gave the children. From then on, local mobile gigs became my playground. I dabbled with drumming in a couple of bands, but the energy of DJing always pulled me back.

Spain, sunshine, and the birth of house

In 1987, life shifted again. My family moved to Spain, right as house music was beginning its cultural takeover. The Marbella-to-Torremolinos coastline pulsed with energy, packed with UK tourists hungry for the latest sounds pouring out of Chicago and New York.

Neon lights and open-air clubs turned the shoreline into a nightly festival, where every bar seemed to be competing for the loudest system and the freshest imports. Vinyl in hand, I started to see myself less as a collector and more as someone who could set the rhythm for the night, weaving my own place into this new Mediterranean soundtrack.

Nights at The London Pub, The London Underground club, Pipers, and Club 27 became my proving grounds. But it was at Poco Loco, a bar in Los Boliches, Fuengirola, run by dear friends Ricky and Peggy, where I really cut my teeth.

They’d let me practise in their booth during the winter when the clubs were closed. I loved those evenings – me, my vinyl, and a tiny bar that felt like home.

London calling: Student union and legends

By 1991, I was back in the UK and focused on education. I enrolled at the London College of Communication (LCC) to study graphic design. But music found me again.

I ran for, and won, the role of Entertainments Officer for the student union under the London Institute of Student Unions (LISU). For three years, I booked acts, programmed nights, and was the DJ warm-up for guest legends like Carl Cox, Norman Jay, and Paul ‘Trouble’ Anderson. Watching them work from inside the booth was like a masterclass. One memorable highlight of my time at LCC was DJing a student night at the Hippodrome, Leicester Square, London, and being given the amazing honour of introducing The Brand New Heavies – what a great memory. I finished my term as Entertainments Officer with the biggest bash LISU had ever put on at Central St Martins, in the car park. The end-of-term summer event was an incredible experience to see hundreds of students dancing to the tunes I was playing. Such a huge buzz.

1992 was a turning point. That year, I spent a stint in Bournemouth at a venue called the Carousel, where the scene was all about funk and soul. I was swept up in it, laying down tracks like Soul II Soul’s ‘Back to Life’, Crystal Waters’ ‘Gypsy Woman (She’s Homeless)’, Jamiroquai’s ‘When You Gonna Learn’, and the acid jazz grooves of Incognito and Young Disciples.

The room would come alive with those records – pure energy and connection. Around the same time, I began gigging the wider university circuit, which took me to Manchester University, University College London, and Bournemouth & Poole College of Art & Design. Each crowd was different, each night a lesson in flow and timing, and I started to build a reputation as someone who could not only fill a floor but hold it until the very last track.

The underground rave scene was also booming, and I threw myself into it: university circuit gigs, house parties, and warehouse events, spending late nights and early mornings learning to read a crowd and build energy. I learned the hard way that it’s not about the newest tune, it’s about the right tune at the right moment.
But as raids became common and danger replaced thrill, the scene lost its shine. I packed away the vinyl, shifted focus, and raised a family.

Rediscovery: Digital sparks a revival

For years, DJing was a chapter I thought I’d closed. Then, one Christmas, my sister handed me a gift: a small digital controller, a Hercules DJ Console Mk1, if I remember correctly. To me, it looked like a toy, but when I hooked it up to my laptop, it blew my mind.
My daughter’s 12th birthday disco became my comeback gig. With that little controller and a few simple lights from Maplin, I rediscovered the thrill of making people dance. The spark was back.

This time, I approached it with design and business savvy. I built a website, created a logo, and printed flyers. At my first BPM event, I connected with the National Association of Disc Jockeys (NADJ). First as a member, and later as a committee member, I found a network of mentors and friends who helped me grow into the professional mobile DJ I am today.
What began as simply joining a professional association quickly developed into one of the most formative experiences of my career. Within NADJ, I had the opportunity to work alongside some incredible people who shared the same passion for music and professionalism that I did. Together with Tony Winyard, Ed Bereton, Matt Hayden-Barker, Steven Honeyball and Keith Ellwood, I helped to establish the London branch of the NADJ. Starting a branch in one of the busiest and most diverse cities in the world was no small feat, but it was an immensely rewarding challenge. We wanted to create a hub for DJs across the capital, a space where knowledge could be shared, skills developed, and friendships forged.

From there, my involvement deepened. The members encouraged me to stand for the position of national secretary. When the ballot vote came through and I was elected, it was both exciting and humbling. To know that so many of my peers had faith in me was a huge motivator. It was more than just a title; it was an opportunity to give something back to the community that had given me so much.
My time as national secretary opened doors to new experiences and responsibilities. Eventually, this path led me to take on the role of National Chairman of NADJ. This was not a role I took lightly. It was a position that required vision, leadership, and a commitment to supporting DJs across the country.

Being at the helm of a national organisation was both fulfilling and challenging, especially during the Covid period, which was the toughest time for entertainment ever known. It stretched me in ways I had never imagined, but it also allowed me to travel the length and breadth of the UK, attending trade shows, visiting regional branches, and being interviewed on BBC News (at 5 in the morning) and representing our members on a national stage.

The best part of this journey, however, was always the people. Meeting DJs from every corner of the country, each with their own stories, skills and styles, was truly inspiring. The passion within our industry is infectious, and I felt privileged to witness the creativity and professionalism of so many talented individuals.
Every conversation at a trade show, every discussion at a branch meeting, and every shared experience on the road reinforced why I loved being a part of this world.

Alongside my duties with NADJ, I was also growing as a mobile DJ. It was during this time that I realised being a DJ could be not only fun but also a profitable business, if approached with the right mindset. Having a professional attitude, being reliable, and working hard for clients made all the difference. Success wasn’t just about playing great music; it was about creating memorable experiences for people and running my DJing as a business. That shift in perspective was transformative.

Of course, the job also had its perks. The parties, the energy of the crowds, the joy of watching a dance floor come alive – those were the moments that made all the hard work worthwhile. But behind every great party was the professionalism and effort that went into preparation, client relationships, and performance. The partying, as I came to see it, was the bonus, and the real reward was knowing that I was growing both as a DJ and as a professional.

Looking back, my involvement with NADJ and my journey as a mobile DJ taught me lessons that extended far beyond music. It was about leadership, community, perseverance, and the value of professionalism. It showed me that, with the right mindset and the willingness to work hard, what starts as a passion can become a rewarding career. And it gave me a network of friends, colleagues and mentors who continue to inspire me to this day.

Weddings, awards and 80s soul

From parties and family events, I graduated to weddings, corporate gigs, and themed nights. One of the highlights of my calendar is DJing the Salon Awards under Steven Honeyball’s direction, an event I’m proud to be part of every year, and not forgetting being part of the Comedy Women in Print Awards, being invited to speak on stage at BPM, and great learning opportunities in Las Vegas and here in the UK with the Pro Mobile Conference.

Beyond those headline moments, some of my most treasured experiences have come from being a resident wedding DJ at a unique island venue that could only be accessed by boat. That meant not just arriving myself but transporting all of my equipment, no matter the weather. Rain, shine, or even snow (the ice in December was the worst), I had to contend with the tide of the River Thames dictating when and how I could set up and break down. It was as much a logistical challenge as a performance one, but that challenge also became part of the magic. There was something truly special about setting the soundtrack to a couple’s big day on an island that felt like its own hidden world.
The intimacy and atmosphere of those weddings were unforgettable, and I often think the extra effort and unpredictability made them even more meaningful for everyone involved.

I’ve been lucky to work across the full spectrum of events. On one hand, I’ve had the thrill of DJing Sweet 16 parties with massive budgets in iconic London hotel venues, where the lights, décor, and production rivalled a movie set. The energy of a young crowd with high expectations taught me to be versatile, quick-thinking, and endlessly creative in keeping a room buzzing. On the other hand, I’ve also had the privilege of working at smaller, humbler events where the scale might have been different, but the emotional weight was every bit as significant. Those barn weddings with fairy lights strung across the beams, or the community hall gatherings where every single song choice carried deep family meaning – those moments are etched in my memory just as vividly. I learned early on that the size of the budget never equates to the size of the heart in the room.

Some of the most moving experiences have come from intimate weddings surrounded only by close family and friends, where even the hall itself had history woven into the couple’s story. In those settings, every track I played, every transition, every first dance and spotlight moment carried layers of sentiment. I would often catch myself quietly moved by the trust couples put in me to curate the soundtrack to the most personal day of their lives. That sense of responsibility has shaped not only the DJ I am today but also the person, and I’ve learned that it’s never just about the music, it’s about creating shared memories that will be cherished for decades.

None of this journey would have been possible without the countless opportunities and the generosity of those who have guided and supported me along the way. From the education I’ve received to the workshops, conferences and mentoring sessions, I am deeply grateful. You have all become mentors, role models, and, in many cases, friends I look up to.
Every event, whether grand or modest, has shaped me in different ways, teaching me resilience, creativity, adaptability and humility. I’ve learned that success in this craft isn’t measured only by the size of the stage or the profile of the event but also by the joy I bring to a single dance floor, whether it’s beneath a glittering chandelier or in a small village hall. My journey so far has been colourful, challenging, rewarding and humbling, and I am excited to see where the next chapter takes me – with music still at the heart of it all, of course.

And while I enjoy the variety, I’ve found my sweet spot with older audiences and themed pub nights. Give me an 80s soul and funk, or 90s dance night, and I’m in my element.

Looking back, the journey feels like a mixtape: Capri clubs, Spanish house, London raves, family life, and then a digital rebirth. Every chapter taught me something new, not just about DJing, but about people, energy and connection.

For me, it’s never been about fame or fortune. It’s about connection. Watching a crowd light up because of the records you’ve chosen – that’s the magic.

From the 13-year-old kid nervously cueing vinyl for a club full of Marines, to a professional DJ spinning for weddings and themed nights, the thread has always been the same: the joy of making people dance, and, after all these years, I’m still hooked.