
TBFH operates in that space where repetition becomes emotion and groove turns physical. After years of exploring different corners of electronic music, this new phase distills everything down to its essence: tension, rhythm, and raw machine energy.
With his upcoming EP landing on March 27th and a same-night presentation at Macarena Club (Barcelona), TBFH steps into this new chapter with a clear intention: No shortcuts, no excess—just sound designed to unfold over time, on the dance floor.
I’ve always had a fascination with repetitive patterns since I was a toddler. My father used to play a lot of prog rock like Genesis and King Crimson; minimalist music like Philip Glass, Tuxedomoon, or The Penguin Café Orchestra; and electronic music like Klaus Schulze, Propaganda, The The, Jean-Michel Jarre…
I remember getting lost—in a good way—in those arpeggiated passages. They felt dreamlike. That’s when I started feeling the need to express myself within that kind of sonic landscape.
For DJing, it was more or less the same. My dad used to bring his hi-fi setup to parties. He and his friends threw quite a few, playing vinyl mixed with tapes. The emotion he conveyed—without traditional mixing—could lift both the dance floor and people’s spirits.
It’s always been about that for me: bringing groove and emotion to the dance floor. Even though I’m not a big fan of Ultravox, I’ve always thought of that song title as a kind of motto: Dancing With Tears in My Eyes.

Proper Belgian, German, and Dutch trance (circa ’92–’94), Prince, the epic feel of big sampled strings (with breaks) from the early big beat era, and the 303.
Five years ago, something in my life shifted in a way that couldn’t be avoided. It demanded much more from me, both as a person and as an artist. I couldn’t handle both, so I chose being a person. I stepped away from music completely.
But as someone close to me once said: I could leave music, but music wouldn’t leave me.
TBFH was born from a wider, more ambitious, and more focused place.