Small talk with NAP
memòri : Let’s start with a trip down memòri lane: what is your earliest memory of falling in love with electronic music?
NAP : I think unbeknownst to knowing it was electronic music then, it was after school in elementary listening to paul van dyk mix cds from my brother and my sister’s copy of Dummy by Portishead… that was stuff that I loved but could not understand how it was made....later inn my teens when i first started working at a record store and getting deeper into stuff I was collecting especially kraut and 80s stuff.. delving into the kosmiche side of kraut rock bands like Cluster, Schnitzler and Göttsching and at the same time getting into the minimal wave / industrial stuff that was coming out on labels like minimal wave and dark entries really blew me away and got my head out of the smelly garage rocker vibe i was on. Shortly after that ebm, italo and early house/ jack came into the picture along with raving and it was game over after that!
memòri : You've lived in Colombia, Mexico, Canada, bouncing between Montreal and Mexico City for years. Does home mean anything to you anymore, and does that rootlessness show up in how you make music?
NAP : My idea of home has shifted a lot, and I think moving around has helped me embrace a sense of “rootlessness” or stasis so to say. I’ve found inspiration in feeling like I’m neither from here nor there, but rather a mix of all of it—which, while sometimes displaced, feels special to my lived experience—and that definitely shows up in the way I make music.
memòri : Where does the name NAP come from?
NAP : The name is “PAN” backwards, referring to Pan, the Greek god of the wild, shepherds, and flocks. He also symbolizes nature, sex, fertility, and music—the half-man, half-goat flute player of the woods, a channel for pagan and unbridled creativity.
memòri : What pushed you to start your label ISLA in the first place, and did you have any idea back then what it would become?
NAP : I wanted to release music by my friends and myself in a format that made sense at the time, which was cassettes. I had two high-speed tape duplicators and the idea was to do everything in-house, in very limited quantities, for music that was mostly coming around Vancouver’s Deep Blue Studio. I also wanted to merge the DIY/punk approach I came from with the underground dance scene that was emerging at the time in Van. The concept was no fixed concept in terms of genre—anything goes as long as it felt right and aligned with what I was into and who I wanted to support. Ten years later, it’s grown into something I never imagined—pressing vinyl, having distribution, and reaching listeners beyond our small community.
memòri : You've said ISLA was built as "a personal and direct archive." An archive of what, exactly: sounds, friendships, a specific moment in time?
NAP : All of the above—sounds, friendships, and moments in time. After some frustrating experiences releasing music through other labels, or trying to get them, I wanted to do my own thing and build something that could hold both my work and that of my friends. The label exists as an archive of a kind of conceptual geography—an island made up of places I’ve been, people I know, and collaborations I share.
memòri : What catches your ear when you’re listening to demos and make you say “ok this is good ISLA material” ?
NAP : Most of the time it’s music made by friends that excites me. Beyond that, it’s really open—what matters is honesty of expression and whether it resonates across a wide range of musical sensibilities.
memòri : Your curatorial approach on the label is pretty singular and defined. Are there other labels out there whose energy or vision resonates with yours, labels that feel like kindred spirits, or that genuinely impress you?
NAP : That means a lot—thank you! Some labels that have inspired me through their uncompromising and genuine approach include Staalplaat, United Milk Dairies, Korm Plastics, Nettwerk Music, Vanity Records, Irdial, Mille Plateaux, Cold Meat Industry, and RRRecords.
memòri : Punk taught you to play with broken equipment, in precarious conditions: the busted gear, the church tape duplicator, the DIY venues. Do you still carry that spirit into your music today? Where do you find that same energy now?
NAP : Definitely. More than the tools, it’s about spirit and the approach—curiosity, experimentation, and embracing the unfamiliar. Whether it’s new instruments, production techniques, or blending unexpected influences, it all comes back to playfulness and keeping that inner child alive, as corny as that might sound.
memòri : How would you describe the NAP way of DJing ?
NAP : Open format, open-hearted— attentive to context and place. I like exploring all my musical interests through DJing, while staying mindful of storytelling, craft, and the people and space I’m playing for.
memòri : What's your thing right now? Any sounds or genres you've been digging into and excited to play in the following weeks?
A lot of new music I’ve been loving: Eckent from CDMX—amazing dubstep wizardry blending bass, dub, tribal mexa, and techno. Rodman’s Roqueta System on ISLA—Mexa steppers inspired by the Acapulco coast.
The new SQ Mice LP on Disc de la Spirale is a breath of fresh air—total trip, reminds me of old Siltbreeze records. The new mess/age LP on PPU is great too— been waiting for something new after their first 7”. Also Devon Rexi meets John T. Gast on Accidental Meetings— damn big 1!— shout out to A.M who have got to be one of the brightest labels right now… consistency and quality unparalleled!
The latest Mohammad Reza Mortazavi release on Latency is pure bliss—on repeat both at home and in sets. I also recently discovered a 2024 record by Kryssi Battalene and Wednesday Knudsen called Ogden Garden—beautiful, cosmic, dissolving pieces that are dope on the tripper’s long mix.
On an older teky dance tip, I’ve been digging through the Siesta Music and Freak Recordings catalogs, and also diving into Bandcamp archives of artists like Silat Beksi and Stefan Schwander.
For Latin/tropical sounds, Its always buy on site for anything from Discos Más and Discos Rolas which I've been playing a lot in my 7” sets alongside dubwise material—big tip for the kumbia lovers.
memòri : You have a lot of collaborative projects : SINNAZ, IZM, O.S.S., La Fe, DOSIS, Ambien Baby... If you had to take just one of these projects to a desert island, which one would it be, and why?
I’d take everyone from those projects together—for a Cosmic Jokers-style jam. One weekend, one island, one sheet of acid, and a slightly unhinged record exec funding the whole thing.
memòri : Latin electronic music has gained massive international visibility in recent years. Nick León, DJ Python, and you somewhere in that constellation. Do you feel any pressure to "represent" something? And if so, how do you hold that?
I think for me, as a Latin artist who immigrated to Canada in my teens, I’ve had access to opportunities and platforms that aren’t always available back home. Because of that, I don’t see it as pressure so much as a responsibility—to help create visibility and opportunities for artists who are based in LATAM.
memòri : You're playing memòri on Saturday from 6 to 9pm. Is there a track you'd want to share that feels perfect for that sunset moment on the Tweak soundsystem?
Hell yeah—got a few I’d love to play if the moment feels right: Blessed Step by Aoyama, Cascada by Eckent, Cumbia Mexica by Ritmos Choluteka, El Celular by Rinanmbo, La Cumbia del Kiss Sound by DJ Cuapio, Taxi Dub by Sub Basics