He has been on the turntables for four decades and last year he reached the biblical DJ age of 60 years. But Sven Väth is still one of the most internationally popular DJs from Germany and stop for him is not an option. Now he tells his personal story in an illustrated book. And that is closely linked to the history of techno.
Recommendations of the editorial team
Sven, you celebrated two rounds of anniversaries last year. You have been on the road as a DJ for 40 years and turned 60 in October. Congratulations. Would you have thought at the beginning of your career that you will still put on at 60?
Thank you! It was a special year for me – not only because of the numbers, but because of the reflection that goes hand in hand with it. When I started 40 years ago, only the moment was crucial for me. I did not think in decades or even a life as a DJ beyond 60. Music was my valve, my language, my way to express me. But would I have imagined that this passion would accompany me over four decades? Probably not. What drives me to this day is the tireless search for magic – after this one moment when everything merges with music. This is timeless. It’s not about years, it’s about intensity. As long as I feel this euphoria, as long as there are people who can be transformed through music, I will not stop.
You have just published an illustrated book: “4 Decades Behind the Decks: A Journey of Music, Magic and Euphoria”. In it you can look back on your development and that of techno. What did you learn about yourself when working on the book?
A book is different from a DJ set. It is not a fleeting moment on the dance floor, but a journey through memories, captured for eternity. During working on “4 Decades Behind the Decks” I noticed how much my way of change, but also of deep resistance is shaped. Techno has constantly reinvented itself over the years, and yet there is an essence that has remained – the devotion to the rhythm, the ecstasy in dance, experience the collective. I have recognized that my personal development and the evolution of this culture are inextricably linked.
How have Techno and the club scene changed in the past four decades?
Techno has always moved into waves – there were times of the revolution, commercialization, fragmentation and reflection. In the 80s and early 1990s it was a movement that formed from pure passion. There were no rules, no given structures, just the urge to create something new. Clubs were laboratories in which music, fashion and attitude to life merged. Industrialization also came with the global success of techno. Festivals grew, social media changed the perception of the scene, algorithms often replace organic discovery. At the same time, this development opened doors for many new talents and carried the sound into all angles in the world. What I sometimes see critically is the loss of depth. In the past, a trip was a club night – from the first plate to sunrise. Today it is often about the fastest drop, the biggest moment for the cell phone. But there are still places and artists who preserve the original spirit. And what makes me positive: the new generation questions a lot, searches for authenticity, authenticity.
30 years ago, the mainstream could hardly do anything with Techno, now it is a recognized art form. Is that more advantageous or a disadvantage?
Every subculture that exists long enough and develops a certain radiance will eventually become part of the mainstream. That is inevitable. The question is not whether this is good or bad, but how to deal with it. The advantage is obvious: Techno has established itself as a serious art form. In the past, we were often smiled at – as a marginal phenomenon, as a short fashion. Today there are exhibitions, museums, academic arguments, and the importance of club culture is increasingly recognized. The danger lies in commercialization. As soon as something becomes popular, the pressure grows to make it suitable for mass. Music can become a goods to brand festivals into event machines, DJs. If only numbers decide, Techno loses its original spirit. But: Techno’s essence is not bound to charts or trends. There is always a counter -movement, always places where the raw, undilated energy lives on. That was the case in the 90s when techno came out of the underground, and that is no different today. In the end it is a question of attitude – and it is determined by the people who live this culture.
If you had to explain to an alien what makes the magic of a club night, what would you tell?
I would tell him that a club night is a trip – a moment when time and space blur. Imagine you enter a dark room, feel the bass in your chest, become part of a mass that moves in the same rhythm. Words are superfluous because the music connects us on a lower level. The magic arises when everything becomes one: the sound, the people, the light, the darkness. You lose yourself – and find yourself new.
You hung up all over the world. Is there one club that you always like to return?
There is not one club, but many special places that have accompanied me over the years – each with their own soul, their own audience, their own energy. Ibiza remains a central point for me-the Akasha, an intimate place with deep spiritual energy, or circoloco in DC-10, where a unique, electrifying atmosphere is created every week. Space Miami is always an experience, just like the legendary WARUNG Club in Brazil, who has its own magic with its location in the middle of nature. In Europe I love the Watergate in Berlin, which was unfortunately now closed, the Nordstern in Basel, the merchants in Zurich or the input in Barcelona. And of course Robert Johnson in Frankfurt-a club that still stands for uncompromising quality and an intimate dance floor experience. A place to which I like to return again and again is the Womb in Tokyo. The energy there is exceptional – the audience is passionate, attentive and completely sunk in music.
In your illustrated book, a chapter is devoted to your outfits and hairstyles over the years. What do you think today when you see these old photos?
For me, fashion was always an expression of identity and zeitgeist – just like music. When I look at old photos, I not only see outfits or hairstyles, but phases of my life, moods, moments of transformation. Every era had its own aesthetics, and I always liked to be inspired by the currents of the time – be it new wave, new romantic, acid house or the minimalist look of the 2000. But it was never about pure superficiality, but about expressing an attitude, making a feeling visible. Of course I sometimes smile about certain looks, but that’s exactly what is nice. Style is something lively that changes, as well as music. And ultimately it is about staying true to yourself – whether with long hair, shaved head or in the tailor -made suit.
A change in the club scene has been noticeable since Covid. Clubs have to close, people have less money available. Do you feel something of these effects yourself?
Yes, the effects are noticeable – not only economical, but also in the mentality of people. Covid has changed a lot: clubs had to close, structures have broken away, and for many organizers and artists it was an existential crisis. Even today, many clubs are fighting for survival because the costs have increased and the outgoing behavior has changed. At the same time, I see that the desire for community and intensive experiences is greater than ever. People long for real, unforgettable nights, for moments when they can get lost and at the same time find it again. In some cities you can feel a new spirit of optimism, in others the uncertainty dominates. For me, the club culture remains essential. It is more than just entertainment – it is a social, cultural and emotional valve. That is why it is more important than ever to protect these rooms and develop new concepts that keep the spirit of celebration alive.
Social media and streaming have changed the way people listen to music. Do you react to these changes with your music in any form?
The way music is consumed has changed radically. Determine algorithms what is heard, playlists often replace conscious discovering, and a lot is geared towards quick attention. This is actually in contrast to what I do as a DJ-because a vinyl set is not an algorithmic product, but a curated, organic journey. I do not let myself be guided by these changes, but remain true to my approach. For me, physical experience counts: the depth of a track, telling a story over hours, the direct experience of music in the club.
The whole world faces a drastic change. Ultrar rights endanger democracy. Techno as a celebration of the freedom of the individual is diametrically contrasted with these developments. What does the future of techno look like against this background?
Techno was more than just music from the start – it was always a statement for freedom, for community, for a world without limits. In the 90s, Techno was the soundtrack for reunification, a symbol of departure and cohesion. Today, at a time when nationalism and intolerance, this culture is more important than ever. A club night is a room in which origin, gender, status does not matter – only the music and the common experience count. This is exactly the counter -model to a world that is lost again in demarcation and fear. The future of techno is to preserve this spirit. Clubs and festivals are not only places of celebration, but also places of resistance to narrow -mindedness and hatred. We have to continue to defend this culture – not with political slogans, but with what we can do best: bring people together, build bridges, dissolve limits in their minds. Techno remains a movement – and movements cannot be stopped.