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Recorded in Fort Lauderdale during a run of new collaborations. When you're in the room with the best in the business, the energy rubs off on everything, and this episode is what came out of it.

A talisman is something you carry for luck and power. On this trip, it was the people.

This one is house from front to back, locked at 128 for 67 minutes, with an after-hours lean. It opens bright and tribal with MistaJam & Roland Clark, an afro house take on Madonna's "La Isla Bonita" and Biscits & MITA's "Tribalism." Then it drops into a deeper, bass-driven back half with Denis Horvat, Billy Kenny & Maximono, Cloonee, Jairo Delli and a James Hype edit of "Lose Yourself," before Dyzen's "Talisman" takes it all the way down and Solardo's "On the Corner" sees you out.

Lights low. Doors locked. Stay a while.

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This one starts where house actually comes from. Louie Vega and Julie McKnight, Cerrone, Lou Rawls, Dimitri From Paris — the records that were doing this before any of us got here. Then it grows up, puts on something tighter, and walks out the door.

Two hours. Forty-two records. Bob Sinclar shows up four separate times because that's just how the night went.

Somewhere past the halfway mark the divas take over — Adele, Shakira and Beyoncé, Ultra Naté, Madonna twice — and then it gets serious. A run of Tony Ruiz back to back to back, straight into my own WERK, and from there it stops being a disco and turns into a runway. By the time ARTBAT closes it out you're not dancing to the same set you started with.

This one's for the ones who know the history and still came to sweat.

Two hours. Start at the beginning. Don't skip.

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September hits different. The crowds thin out, the air finally cools off, and everybody left standing knows this is the last good weekend before the beach goes quiet.

So I'm not playing it safe.

This one moves — Brazilian funk into Depeche Mode, merengue into Queen, Marshall Jefferson right at the top and Masters at Work waiting near the end. The tempo climbs, drops out from under you, and climbs again. Nothing here stays where you left it. It's loud, sweaty, a little ridiculous, and built entirely for a room that doesn't want the summer to end.

This one's for the ones who close the place down. You know who you are.

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Don't ask. I'm not explaining it. -- haha

This one came together fast and stayed that way. No classics, no big emotional detours, nothing dressed up for the occasion — just filtered, greasy, bass-heavy house records stacked one on top of the other and mixed like I was late for something. Half of it goes by before you've had a chance to figure out what's playing, and that's the point.

There's a serious Wh0 streak running through this hour — Wh0 Plays, Wh0 Worx, Edible, all of it — plus Leopard Step showing up three separate times like they own the place. Somewhere in the middle a record just flat-out announces itself as house music, and I let it, because after last month's episode I figured we'd earned the follow-up.

This one's for the people who don't need a warm-up. The ones already sweating when they walk in.

Turn it up. Don't sit down.

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Every song you've ever screamed along to, dragged into the club and given a second life.

This hour of Velvet Nation is Boy Joey doing what he does best: taking the records already living rent-free in your head and rebuilding them for the floor. It opens with his own remix of "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us" — because of course it does — then drops straight into the deep end with Rihanna, Kim English by way of John Summit, and Celeda asking the only question that's ever mattered on a dancefloor: what is house?

From there it gets darker. Depeche Mode, Blue Monday, Gypsy Woman, Ronnie Spiteri's "Papi," Eli Brown — the stretch where the lights go low and nobody's checking their phone. Then Danny Tenaglia's Planet Tweak Mix of Circuit Boy's "The Door" cracks the whole thing wide open, Ultra Naté reminds you you're free to do what you want to do, and Queen, Faith Hill's Hex Hector club mix, and Michael Jackson take it home.

And then, right when you're gassed, "The Boys of Summer." The lights come up. You feel something. That's the point.

Sixteen tracks. Sixty minutes. Zero filler.

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🎧 Recorded live July 30th, 2026 at Diego's in Rehoboth Beach, DE.

On July 30th I played a set unlike anything I've played before, and I'm still a little stunned at how it came together. Curated alongside the one and only Vespe NYC, Summer Heat was built on one idea: the records that built house music and the records tearing up floors right now belong in the same room, on the same night, back to back. 🪩

So this hour runs current and classic at once — peak-time house sitting shoulder to shoulder with records people have been screaming along to for thirty years, rebuilt to hold their own on a 2026 floor. It moves fast, it never sits still, and there's a stretch in the middle where the room went somewhere I hadn't planned for. ⚡

It closes out on the ballroom and diva side of the family, and that was deliberate. This music came from those floors, and the set was never going to end without saying so. 💜

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Some nights are planned.

Some nights become unforgettable.

This is one of those nights.

Recorded live during Vault99 Afterhours at the Baltimore Eagle, on June 26th, 2026. This set captures something that can never truly be recreated—the electricity of a packed dance floor, the cheers of a community celebrating together, and the feeling that for a few beautiful hours, nothing else in the world mattered except the music.

From the very first moment, the room was alive. Every drop landed harder, every vocal hit deeper, and every transition pushed the energy higher. What began as another night behind the decks quickly transformed into one of my favorite sets I've played in a very long time.

This isn't a polished studio mix.

This is a snapshot of a moment.

A celebration of queer nightlife.
A love letter to Baltimore.
A thank you to Vault99 for creating something so special.
And to the incredible staff and management at the Baltimore Eagle, who continue to make that dance floor feel like home for so many of us.

Turn it up.

Close your eyes.

And let yourself get lost in one of the most unforgettable nights of Pride 2026.

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Every generation inherits a torch.

The question is what we do with it.

We arrive.

We learn our history.

We find our community.

And then comes something greater.

The Ascension.

The moment we stop asking for permission to exist and begin creating the future ourselves.

Pride has never been just a celebration of who we are.

It has always been a declaration of who we are becoming.

Every drag performer who stepped onto a stage.

Every activist who stood in front of injustice.

Every DJ who transformed a dance floor into a sanctuary.

Every house mother who opened a door.

Every artist, every dreamer, every rebel, every survivor.

They weren't simply preserving a culture.

They were building the next chapter of it.

And now that responsibility belongs to us.

The Ascension is about legacy.

It's about understanding that we are not merely the beneficiaries of queer history—we are its authors.

The choices we make today become the stories someone else inherits tomorrow.

The spaces we create become someone else's first safe place.

The music we play becomes someone else's soundtrack.

The community we build becomes someone else's home.

In this final chapter of the Velvet Nation Pride Series, Boy Joey explores the future of queer culture, the power of visibility, the responsibility of stewardship, and the extraordinary possibility that exists when a community stops surviving and starts thriving.

Because Pride was never meant to be a destination.

It was always meant to be a launch point.

A call to dream bigger.

To love louder.

To create fearlessly.

To leave the world more beautiful than we found it.

The movement continues because we continue.

The story continues because we continue.

The ascent continues because we continue.

This is not the end of the journey.

It is the beginning of the next one.

Welcome to The Ascension.

The future is waiting.

🎧 We Arrive. We Remember. We Become. We Rise. — Movement IV of IV

📍 Recorded live at The Baltimore Eagle | Baltimore, MD | June 13, 2026