My first MYMAG. I remember when I did my first fanzine when I was 16, staying up at Kinko's gluing photos I took of a band at a show before their interview, and getting on the typewriter and listening to my cassette recorder, writing down the transcript — playing, rewinding, then adding numbers to the pages in the corners, gluing more pictures and adding in writings from my journal I kept in my back pocket like the character in The Basketball Diaries.

It became a big focus in my teenhood to write down all the shit in my head, most of which made no sense at all. We called our fanzine Not for Primetime Hardcore. It was a small crew of friends, and we had the DIY spirit down to a T. We put on shows, we housed bands, we did a fanzine, we played music and we had no fucking idea what we were doing — but it all seemed to work. In many ways, that's my life: Pieces of my character, personality and experiences are all just thrown in a hat, and I do my best to piece this unorganized mess together.

Most of the best things that we take part in in life are those that take no preparation, no business plan, just that DIY spirit that gives the whole thing meaning. Fast-forward a decade or so — here I am in L.A., living here, still doing what I started in my teens: my label, Dim Mak Records, doing small parties here and there in L.A. with that same energy. These small parties become the hub of a scene — a community of kids who come together on a weekly basis and artists who pioneer that sound globally start gravitating to our parties, making it that special place for L.A.

One of the parties that came out of L.A. that I'm proud to be a part of was Banana Split Sundaes, a party founded by DJ AM, Matt Colon and me. We approached this party with the kind of attitude that is needed in a city that demands so much glamour, glitz, egos and more egos. We flipped the Hollywood script. DJ AM, who is the best-known American DJ in the world, the best party rocker I've ever seen or heard, who draws not just a certain genre but all kinds of people, was gung ho about the idea to take back L.A. and "giveback." Our party was free. In a bottle-service club, we served no bottles, we reserved no tables, we had a keg of beer for free on the dance floor. We moved the DJ booth next to the dance floor.

For the past three years it's been the staple for new music from all artists, producers, singers and DJs from around the world, and everyone would play for free. DJs and artists who would normally get $10,000 or more would queue up months in advance to play at our free party. When it made no sense at all to do a party like this, we did it. And I can proudly say it is now one of the most important parties in L.A. during my time here.

This issue is dedicated to my close friend, my teacher, hero, guru, brother, therapist and artist, DJ Adam Michael Goldstein. I miss you always, brother, and whenever a major decision comes in my life I always think WWAMD. Thanks, MYMAG, for giving me some pages to share with people buying this issue. Check out my favorite magazines NYLON, V MAGAZINE, MONSTER CHILDREN and BPM. Writing this makes me feel like I'm 16 again, but instead of a typewriter and instead of Kinko's, I'm in Toronto Airport on a Macbook Pro waiting for my flight to go DJ some city in Ontario. This is my life now. On the road 275 days a year. See you at a show!

XO