High in the French Alps, where snow-covered landscapes meet high-altitude sound systems, Tomorrowland Winter once again provided one of the most distinctive settings in contemporary electronic music. It was in this environment that we caught up with Space 92, just moments after an intense and emotionally driven set that managed to turn the cold mountain air into a shared, high-energy experience. Blending powerful techno with cinematic textures, the French producer delivered a performance built on progression and balance, constantly shifting between intensity and emotion. In our conversation, he reflected on how he reads the crowd in the opening moments of a set, how he builds tension over time, and why melody remains the starting point of his creative process. The result is a portrait of an artist focused not only on impact, but on crafting a deeper emotional journey for those on the dancefloor.
YouBeat: After playing a high-energy set in a place like this, what’s the one feeling or idea you hope people leave with?
Space 92: When I build a set, I try to combine energy and emotion. I try to do both, because I think it’s very interesting that way. That’s really what I aim for. And today I was very happy, because I started very energetic, and then when I moved into something a bit more trance-y, I could feel more emotion coming through. I saw it in the crowd — people were reacting differently. So I was like, okay, I can give them more. Because when you prepare a tracklist, it’s never easy to know how it will work. I have some experience with Tomorrowland, but you never really know. It was my first time at Tomorrowland Winter, and it was freezing. So at the beginning I was a bit like… okay, let’s see. But after a few tracks, when I went into something more emotional, people really got into it. And then I knew I could go further.
YouBeat: In the first few minutes of a set, what are you looking for in the crowd to decide how far you can push yourself?
Space 92: I start by watching people — their faces, their expressions. If I see smiles, I feel like I’m in the right mood. If people are just dancing but without that expression, then I feel like I’m in a standard mood. It works, but it’s not exactly what I’m looking for. Because I want to give emotion. I don’t want people just to dance — I want them to feel something. Not necessarily crying, you know what I mean, but I want to bring them into a journey.
YouBeat: Your music often feels very cinematic and space-driven. When you’re performing live, are you trying to tell a story or create a specific emotional journey?
Space 92: Yes, I try to build something from A to Z — like a take-off. Something that keeps going up, constantly building in that direction. And at the end, it’s like an explosion, where everyone is like “oh my God”, you know? That’s what I try to do every time. Because today, in a lot of DJ sets, everything feels very flat. People start very hard, very intense, but there’s no progression. I still try to create that progression. And today I was happy, because I could really feel that progression in my set.
YouBeat: What inspires you when creating new tracks? Do you start from vocals, vibes, or something else?
Space 92: Melodies. Always melodies. Sometimes I already have something in my mind, and I try to build something from that. Then I might add vocals after — it depends. But most of the time, it always starts with the melody. Since I was a kid, even when I was riding my bike, I had melodies in my head. Then I started reproducing them on the computer. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t — but that’s always where it begins.
YouBeat: Thank you very much for your time, and for your set today.
Space 92: Thank you so much. It was a pleasure.
Within a setting like Tomorrowland Winter — where environment, music, and experience are tightly interwoven — Space 92’s approach feels particularly fitting. His focus on progression, emotional connection, and responsiveness to the crowd reflects a more intentional way of performing electronic music.
Rather than delivering a simple sequence of tracks, his sets unfold as structured journeys, shaped in real time by the energy of the moment. It is in this ability to listen — both to the crowd and to his own instincts — that his artistic identity becomes clear: not just an artist who makes people dance, but one who aims to guide them through an experience.
