Tiga

The core engine pushing Tiga forward is ambition. It’s there, everywhere: at the dials in any given club in any given city in any given country on any given weekend; burning the midnight oil in the Research & Development wing of his career control center, crisp shirt sleeves rolled, assessing and strategizing over his next move; with his feet up on the gleaming glass desk in the penthouse office of Turbo Towers, gold plaques of decade-dominating dancefloor delights flanking him – it’s there. Self-aware, well-moderated, yet unrepentant ambition.

Plus a bit of wit, too. To be insulated from any real backlash over a quarter-century in the game and across many different hats worn, a touch of humility and humor certainly helps it all go down easy. His goal is to dunk on people with success but do so in a friendly way.

To maintain pole position while swerving between all these lanes with impunity, he taps into a well-spring of regenerating desire. From the getgo, Tiga has sought to not merely play a part in the culture he abandoned all life commitments for age 17, but frequently scaled its heights too:

Attending Berlin’s Love Parade circa ’92-95, then hearing DJ Hell drop “Sunglasses At Night” to the masses not too many years later. Giving a speech at his Montreal alma mater, then converted some of the impressionable graduates in the audience to come work at Turbo. Starting an independent label on a whim, then reaching 200 releases in a stormy industry with a higher turnover rate than Real Madrid managers. Getting hooked first on the fearless compulsion of Bowie, Reznor, and Almond, then the frigid cool of Mills, Hawtin, and D. James, threading the needle consummately between these two worlds. These highwater marks form the backbone of his pride, and in turn, fuel the self-perpetuating motion machine inside.

There’s always extra room in the cockpit, mind. An army of collaborators, remixers, and remixes has provided vital thrust over the years. From Alter Ego and Azari & III through Duke Dumont and Depeche Mode; from Matthew Dear and Moby, through Zombie Nation and Zdar, Phillipe; Paranoid London, Pusha T, Pet Shop Boys and Peaches.…on and on it goes. So it’ll prove in 2018, where the fingers of his well-combed Rolodex currently rest on entries marked Kolsch, The Martinez Brothers, and Hudson Mohawke. The fruits of this friendly jousting will find their way out of track ID requests and into the shops before long.

It would be a lot easier to rest on his laurels by this point. To trade on former glories, reflect fondly on a career spent dovetailing in and out of the spotlight with like-minded friends, turning in a jaded, half-assed representation of himself at festivals and recording sessions when the taxman comes knocking. But Tiga is still too confident, self-respecting, and – how did you guess? – ambitious for that. The challenge he seeks is to keep experiencing the frisson of creative alchemy, to lock into a groove where he is truly in the zone, to dig deep and reproduce a fresh take on that first-love feeling of music: something that connects with young ravers and inspires the same spark he felt all those years ago. That’s the spur, the lifeblood, the DNA.

And that’s why Tiga remains an ever-present light in our little corner of the universe.