A DJ, composer, and music curator, Dj One Up first discovered music through dance. Originally from Poitiers, he grew up around his father’s guitar, the family vinyl collection, and uncles and aunts who competed in nightclub dance contests in the 1980s. He was a breaker from 1998 to 2001, before discovering a friend’s turntables, scratching, and hands-on control of music in 2000. In 2003, he was asked to DJ his first dance battle: that’s when he knew what he wanted to do.
After moving to Nantes in 2007, he made it his full-time career in 2009. The Hip Hop Session festival became his launching pad, leading to a fifteen-year residency alongside DJs who inspired him, including DJ Ben, Billy Brown, and DJ Renegade. International bookings followed, including the Evolution event in New York, then two major projects: music curation for breaking at the Paris 2024 Olympic Games, nearly 400 tracks organized by decade, and the artistic direction of around twenty original tracks created in Tokyo with thirteen Japanese musicians for Red Bull BC One.
In this episode of Tales, he looks back on the Joe Cocker concert that moved him deeply when he was eight, on recognition from peers in a competitive culture, on balancing crew identity and originality, on the French touch in battle DJing, and on what happens between a DJ and a dancer from the very first seconds of a track.
Dj One Up - DJ, composer, and music curator
The Tales Interview
If you go back as far as possible, what are your earliest memories of music?
I have several, and they’re closely tied to my family. The first memories that come to mind are of my father playing guitar during family gatherings: birthdays, meals, get-togethers with cousins, uncles, and aunts. It’s something that really left an impression on me as a child, something that soothed me.
There was also a vinyl record collection at my parents’ house, along with a fairly distinctive vertical Mitsubishi turntable. We were taught how to put a record on, how to be careful with the cartridge. It was a learning process, almost a ritual. Those two things—played music and listened-to music—really shaped my relationship with music.
There’s another very powerful memory: the Joe Cocker concert. I was eight, and my father took me to Futuroscope, near Poitiers, where I’m from. I remember every minute of that concert. I wasn’t expecting at all what I was going to feel. At that age, I was still very far removed from all of that—I played basketball, I was living my life as a kid. And then it hit me emotionally.
So music was very present in your family environment?
Yes, naturally. I often talk about music lovers. There were no professionals in the family, but music was part of everyday life. We danced a lot, especially on my mother’s side: my uncles and aunts were nightclub dancers in the 1980s and took part in competitions. Dance was a direct connection to music.
There were no boundaries, nothing was off-limits. We lived with music. It was part of everyday life.
How did your journey evolve from listening to playing?
First, there was an important stage: independence. Moving from the collective to the individual. Walkmans, cassettes, then the Discman, the MiniDisc. That’s when I started making my own musical choices. My father listened to a lot of rock, my mother to French chanson. And on my uncles’ and aunts’ side, there were already early signs of hip-hop culture.
The records by De La Soul and NWA that I still have today came from there. That independence naturally led me toward hip-hop culture.
Then there was dance. Before becoming a DJ, I was a dancer, a breaker. Between 1998 and 2001, I took hip-hop dance classes at a community center with my sister. That was my first deep connection with this culture.
In 2000, I met two close friends, Meryl and Florian. Florian had turntables. That’s when I really discovered DJing: scratching, hands-on control of music. It was a key moment. It was still just a hobby, but I felt that it suited me on every level: musical, technical, emotional.
When did it become more than a hobby?
In 2003. I was asked to DJ my first dance battle. And then I knew that was what I wanted to do. Not necessarily as a career at that point, but on a regular basis. I felt something very powerful: a combination of technical mastery, musical accuracy, and audience feedback.
From that point on, I put a lot of things aside: sports, school. I focused on DJing. In 2007, I moved to Nantes. I started doing my first professional gigs. In 2009, it became my full-time career.
Between 2009 and 2015, I really developed my own world. I met important people and began playing internationally as early as 2010. I worked in the scene I was most passionate about: breaking, battles, b-boys, and b-girls. I also developed my work as a composer.
Were there any encounters or events that truly changed your trajectory?
Yes, clearly two.
The first was the Hip Hop Session festival in Nantes. In 2008-2009, I DJed the qualifying battles. In 2010, the Pick Up Productions team invited me to play the main event. I went into it thinking it might be the only time in my life.
After that event, my life changed. I found myself playing alongside DJs who had inspired me for years, such as DJ Ben, Billy Brown, and DJ Renegade. Hip Hop Session put me on the global map of battle DJs. I became a resident there for fifteen years.
The second moment was the Evolution in New York event. It was my first time in the United States. Very few Europeans were invited. There, I experienced something magical. I saw the crews I used to watch on the Internet, the Rocksteady Crew, the first dancers sponsored by Red Bull, international DJs. I was at the source. From then on, I was determined to do nothing but this: be a DJ and composer within hip-hop culture.
Did validation from your peers play an important role?
A huge role. Being recognized in France, in Europe, and especially in the United States changes a lot of things. This culture is competitive. You have to earn your place, prove your skills. That recognition gave me confidence. It allowed me to take more risks, assert myself, and stop being just a fan—I could take my place.
How do you see the balance between the collective and individuality in hip-hop culture?
Hip-hop culture was born from crews, people living in the same neighborhood, sometimes in the same building. It is collective by nature. But it develops around one fundamental skill: originality. Even when you come from a collective, the idea isn’t to copy, but to create your own identity.
I never wanted to be a copy of anyone. The idea was to be myself, inspired by those who came before me. Today, this relationship with the collective is very present in passing things on. I received so much. In turn, I try to pass it on to the new generation.
You played a key role at the Paris 2024 Olympic Games. How did that come about?
I was first approached in 2019 to DJ the world breaking qualifiers. Then I contacted the Paris 2024 teams myself. I proposed a discussion about the place of music in the discipline.
At the time, there wasn’t really any musical focus. They just needed DJs. I argued that breaking without music makes no sense. After many discussions, I was entrusted with the music curation.
I proposed work organized by decade, from the 1970s to today, to show the musical family tree of breaking: funk, hip-hop, rock, South American music, bossa nova... In total, nearly 400 tracks. The idea was to showcase that richness to the whole world.
Did the Olympic Games bring lasting change to the discipline?
It was a huge spotlight, but more of a flash. The discipline was already structured, with major events. The Olympics brought resources, comfort, and sponsors. But it is above all the existing cultural events that continue to keep the scene alive.
Recently, you handled the artistic direction for Red Bull BC One in Tokyo.
My relationship with Red Bull, and with Red Bull BC One in particular, has been built over time: I’ve worked with the brand since 2015. For the Tokyo edition, the Austria-based teams contacted me with a specific request: to develop a new generation of tracks specifically dedicated to breaking.
Red Bull BC One is sixteen male dancers and sixteen female dancers, the best in the world at any given time. At that level, music is decisive. It supports a performance under extremely high pressure, within a highly codified framework.
For Tokyo, I handled the artistic direction of an original music project, in collaboration with thirteen Japanese musicians, beatmakers, and composers. We worked in studios there to create around twenty original tracks, designed both for the competition and for media use around the event.
The challenge was to bring together several worlds: traditional Japanese instruments, influences from gaming culture, and the highly specific requirements of battle breaking. My role was to guide the artistic framework, ensure overall consistency, while giving the artists a great deal of freedom.
These tracks were then featured both in the competition and in Red Bull BC One content. It’s a project I really love because it brings together music creation, local culture, and top-level performance.
Is there a “French Touch” in battle DJing?
Yes. There is a French signature. A more organic relationship with music, often influenced by other cultures and other styles. Personally, I’m very influenced by sounds from the Middle East and North Africa. This originality, this way of stepping outside American conventions, has long been recognized among French DJs.
What is your relationship with dancers in battles?
The DJ is there to support the dance, but not only that. They have to create atmospheres. From the very intro of a track, you know whether it’s going to work. The first track can change the shape of a battle.
Music can elevate a dancer, take them to places they hadn’t imagined. That responsibility is huge. When music and dance come together perfectly, you create moments people never forget.
If you had to imagine the ultimate breaking event?
I’d go back to the source. To New York, in the Bronx, where DJ Kool Herc threw his first block parties. A jam-style event in the street, with the cream of the crop of dancers and DJs. Getting back to the essence.
