Lexii has never been interested in choosing just one world. The London-based DJ and performer draws on the Black British sounds of his Midlands upbringing, UK garage, dancehall, R&B, techno, house, and Miami bass, while his visual language plays with masculinity, femininity, sensuality, and queer identity without asking permission from any of them. With so much buzz around his sets, energy, and sense of style, he didn’t hesitate to let us get to know the growing icon behind the decks in this exclusive, photographed by Fran Gomez de Villaboa and styled by Oliver Volquardsen. One thing is for sure, this self-proclaimed dreamer is real!
How would you describe the sounds and aesthetics of your upbringing? Was there a record you would play on repeat?
At home, there was lovers rock, reggae, dancehall, and Motown. Then my cousins introduced me to Mariah Carey, TLC, Mary J. Blige, Maxwell, Lil’ Kim and Aaliyah. I’d spend hours lost in CD booklets, studying the artwork, the styling, learning the lyrics, and gawking over the photography. Back then, music videos and the auras artists created felt like entire worlds you could disappear into. I’d daydream about being part of them, especially as they sometimes seemed so far removed from my own reality. But dreaming is literally my favourite thing to do. I’m a dreamer boy!
Growing up in the Midlands, I was equally inspired by the Black British sounds around me, like UK garage, niche, and bassline, while also being shaped by my surroundings in Littleover, a cute little village in Derby. It was multicultural enough for me to soak up other cultures, but there was always a strong British identity too, which I’ve grown to recognise as another root of my taste. All these environments shaped me. I’ve always been drawn to spaces where worlds meet. Even now, I reference those sounds, those silhouettes and that feeling of possibility in my sets, my styling and the way I move through the world. I never wanted to be just one thing.
Total Look Edward Sexton
We’ve seen you dancing behind the decks; is there one song that will always get you on the dance floor? Do you have “a song”?
I don’t think I could ever pick just one song. For me, it’s never really been about one track. It’s about the rhythm. Growing up, I’d hear certain drum patterns and basslines, and something in me just knew I had to move. Whether it was hearing bashment and dancehall at local carnivals or whatever the older kids were playing, I’d be watching my cousins and everyone in the music videos, then just naturally copying how they moved.
That’s never really left me. Even now, whether it’s techno, grime, garage, or house, I’m still reacting to those same accents in the music. There’s something about the syncopation in Black music that just lives in me, and if you really listen, you can hear those rhythms running through so many different genres. I’ve always connected to that before anything else.
Movement has always felt like freedom to me. I’m quite an overthinker, and I analyse everything all the time, so when a piece of music completely takes me out of my own head, even if it’s only for a moment, that’s probably the closest thing to bliss. I’m never really thinking when I dance. I’m just responding to the music.
Do you get it? Ugh, love tbh.
Left: Knitted polo Missoni / Right: Jacket and shirt Edward Sexton
You pull heavily from rave and UK garage heritage. What was your first introduction and why do you think it continues to resonate with people?
My earliest introduction was through my older cousins and aunties playing CDs while getting ready to go out. Growing up in the Midlands, garage, 4×4 and bassline were just part of the culture. By the time I was going to under-18 nights towards the end of school, those sounds were already ingrained in me. It’s never felt alien or like something I’ve had to discover. It’s always felt authentic.
I think it continues to resonate because it’s so intrinsically British, particularly rooted in Black British culture. There’s nostalgia for those who grew up with it, but also a freshness for younger generations and audiences outside the UK discovering it for the first time. It’s infectious and incredibly versatile. It can be bouncy, playful and euphoric, or dark, gritty and leftfield. Those sounds still feel current and continue to inspire so much of what I play and create today. Everything comes back around, and when something is woven so deeply into the fabric of British culture, I don’t think it can ever really disappear. It just ebbs, flows, and evolves with the times.
Music, like fashion, likes to put on easily identifiable labels on people, mostly to fit into aesthetics and algorithms. Black British club culture has always thrived in hybridity, yet the industry still loves to categorize. Have you ever felt pressure to make yourself more legible for people who want easy labels?
I’d be lying if I said it never crosses my mind. Of course, there are moments where I think, should I make this easier for people to understand or fit into one lane? But every time I go down that road, I always end up back at the source because that’s where my best ideas come from.
Literally, sometimes I’ll go back and listen to an old mix and be reminded of my creativity and just how fearless I was in creating exactly what was in my mind, even when my skill set was weaker! That tenacity for what I want and how I feel about my art and craft has to stay in me.
It’s scary because that’s the real me. This is how I think, how I create, and how I hear music. If people don’t connect with that, then so be it. That’s defo a scary pill to swallow, but I guess everything is scary at first. That’s part of the thrill and the rush. You have to keep believing in yourself. Like, no one will believe in you as much as you believe in you. And that’s just the tea.
Hybridity and duality are who I am. They’re not something I’ve made up. They’re the result of everything I’ve grown up around and experienced. I’ll always read a room and adapt. I feel like, as a young Black gay man, our journeys are so nuanced, and the level of code-switching can be incredibly specific. It can feel inherent to survival. On one hand, it’s so admirable, and you’re like, damn, I am good at this! On the other hand, it’s like, whoa, how did I get so good at this?
But I’ll never strip away the things that make me who I am just to fit into someone else’s category. I’d rather trust that the right people will find it. Like, they have to. I hope, haha!
Top Missoni, Sunglasses Gentle Monster
There’s often an expectation for Black artists to ‘represent’ something larger than themselves. How do you balance personal expression with cultural responsibility?
I used to think it wasn’t really my job to represent anyone other than myself. But the older I’ve got, the more I’ve realised that’s probably quite a selfish way of looking at it. But I think that’s birthed from insecurity in itself. Like, I’m still finding me; how could I be responsible or be of any help to someone else? But that’s just it. There’s strength in just ‘being’, and being seen. Representation!
I’m not trying to be a spokesperson or a role model. I’m just trying to be as honest as I can in the way I create. But if that honesty makes someone else feel seen or helps them understand a different part of the Black experience, then that’s only ever a good thing. The best messages I get are from people saying they saw themselves in something I did or that it made them feel like they could do the same. That’s really special.
Total Look Aries
Your sets can move from UK garage to R&B to techno to Miami bass without ever feeling disjointed. How important is shapeshifting for you?
It’s probably the most important part of what I do. It’s never about trying to squeeze loads of genres into one set just for the sake of it. It’s about telling my story as honestly as I can through sound. Every genre I play has shaped me in some way, so why would I leave parts of myself out just because it’s easier for people to understand? I’d rather find a way to make it all work together because that’s what feels authentic to me. And that definitely involves trial and error. Sometimes it might not always hit (at first!). I do doubt myself occasionally, and I’ll have to ask some of my DJ friends, like, “Yo, does this blend sound ridiculous?” And usually they’re like, “It sounds like you, babe! It sounds exactly how it’s supposed to sound!”
And then I ignorantly and blissfully continue because I guess the only way to push my own musical boundaries is through experimentation! That’s just fun, and it should always be FUN. When it’s not, I have to go and do something random or see through a rogue idea, whether that’s a sound or a blend, to remind myself why I love doing this stuff.
I think that’s my quietest way of waving a flag. It’s not a gimmick. It’s genuinely what I love. Shout-out to people who dedicate themselves to one sound, but that’s never been me. I love the melting pot of it all, and I want people to hear that every time I play. That’s the real me.
It’s exciting for the audience and for me as well, especially live, when I’m just cooking something up on the spot. Fully exhilarating stuff, haha!
Shorts Issey Miyake, Boots Unit-Lab, lying on garments all by Missoni
From subverting masculine archetypes to sensuality, what role has fashion and clothing played in your career and in you as an artist? Do those visual and sonic worlds ever contradict your identity?
Fashion has always been another way for me to tell the same story I’m telling through music. In the beginning, I was pushing boundaries, enjoying my body, exploring sensuality and masculine and feminine energy without really caring what box people wanted to put me in. The frustrating part was when people focused on that more than the music.
Now it all feels connected. I don’t really see fashion through these archetypes anymore. It’s just another creative language. Some days I feel softer, some days more masculine, and some days I want to feel sexy. That’s just how I move through the world, so why would my stage presence be any different?
I definitely don’t think fashion contradicts my identity. It reinforces it. The music, the clothes and the imagery are all telling the same story. Though I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited to have moments to speak in interviews like this, where I can actually break it down for people who might really want it spelled out for them or just want to understand on a deeper level. That’s okay! Asking questions is always a good thing. I just don’t want the questioning to change how I do things.
Even this shoot feels special because I’m working with Oliver, who’s been styling me since the beginning. He’s seen that growth firsthand and has always helped translate my fashion language into something elevated while still feeling completely like me. That’s a real collaboration, and I’m grateful for it.
I don’t feel like I need to explain myself anymore. I’m just building my world layer by layer, and I love looking back and seeing the growth. You can hear it in the music, and you can see it in the way I present myself.
Like, I don’t want to have to explain myself unless I’m doing something like this, where the microphone has been given to me. I just want you to see it and feel it! And if you’re not into it, then it’s not for you. But if you are into it, get stuck in, lol!
Jacket Jean Paul Gaultier archive, Trousers Edward Sexton, Sunglasses Gentle Monster
How do you resist becoming a caricature of queerness in nightlife? And does that caricature still exist?
I think the only way to avoid becoming a caricature is to be real. If there’s genuine life experience and real storytelling behind what you do, then it’s not a caricature. It’s just you.
Haha, this question feels kinda messy, though I know the intention! However, I don’t really want to judge whether caricatures still exist because everyone’s on their own journey. BUT what I will say is that I do still think stereotypes exist. We live in a culture where it’s easy to follow what’s already been accepted and a lot harder to trust your own point of view.
For me, the answer has always been the same. I just keep coming back to whatever makes me, me. My experiences, my influences, my contradictions, my taste. That’s the only thing I can really control. I’m not reinventing the wheel. I’m just doing meeee.
The funny part is, you can spend your whole life trying to keep it real, be real and show people who you are, and they’ll still find a way to flatten you into a stereotype or a character because it’s easier and way more palatable for them to understand. The mad thing is, it happens in our own communities too, and that’s something I wish would subside. That’s frustrating as fuck, for me and probably loads of other people, but still, we must rise! Haha.
I’d rather keep building something honest than become a version of queerness people already expect to see.
Left: Total Look Issey Miyake / Right: Total Look Edward Sexton, Shoes Romer London
Do you have a favourite place to play or a most memorable set?
I don’t think I have a favourite venue. It’s more about the energy of the people. My favourite sets are always the ones where you’ve got the full spectrum of the community in front of you. Queer people, Black people, straight people, everyone. Ratchet, bougie, all united in spirit, y’know? Not there as archetypes or subgenres, just there because they came to get dowwwwn! That’s when I feel like I can really tell the whole story. I’m a performer at my core. I lav it!
My sets are a bit like eating the perfect meal. Every sound brings something different, and on their own, they’re OVAHHH! Together, they make complete sense. That’s how I want people to experience my sets, and the energy is the through line.
One set I’ll always hold close is Body Movements 2025. I actually pushed really hard to get a later slot because I believed that was where the music would really make sense. Thankfully, it happened, and it ended up being one of those moments where I felt completely free and in a flow state. I played exactly what I wanted, exactly how I wanted, and the crowd got it. Ugh, proud! Goosebumps just thinking about it.
Also, the gorgeous stages and set designs that festivals bring add to the cinematic drama of it all! Loveee.
People still come up to me and talk about that set, which is really special. It reminds me that when you trust your instincts and play from an honest place, people feel it. That’s my favourite place to be as a DJ. Just being completely Locked In (with Lexii) and sharing that with people.
Total Look Bianca Saunders
What does ‘Black excellence’ mean to you in 2026 and does that phrase still hold power, or has it become overused?
I think Black excellence still holds power, but it depends on who’s saying it.
When it comes from other Black people or from within the community, it feels like a celebration. It’s recognising excellence in spaces where we’ve historically been underrepresented, and that means something. Where it starts to feel a bit icky for me is when it becomes a buzzword used by people outside of the community. Sometimes it feels like you’re being judged on a separate scale, like you’re excellent for a Black person instead of just being excellent. That’s where it loses me.
My goal has never been to be Black excellence. My goal has always just been to be excellent. If my community sees themselves in that and wants to celebrate it, then that’s beautiful. But I don’t think excellence needs a qualifier. Excellence is excellence.
When people leave a Lexii set, what do you want them to understand about you that they might not have when they walked in?
I just want people to leave thinking, damn… he really does this.
I want them to understand the passion, the craft, and the technicality behind what I do because when I’m in the mix, I’m completely locked in. It’s one of my favourite places to be. I genuinely love DJing, and I think sometimes a little clip online can’t capture what it actually feels like in the room.
When I’m playing, I’m all in. I’m sweating, they’re sweating, and we’re creating that moment together. It’s not a gimmick. It’s not something I’m pretending to be. It’s real. I genuinely love this shit.
If someone leaves seeing me differently than they did when they walked in, that’s everything. Maybe they came in with an idea of who I was and leave thinking, okay… he really is the real deal. That means a lot because I don’t ever want people to just hear my music. I want them to feel how much it means to me. Every set is another opportunity to show people who I am and what I’m capable of. I don’t take that for granted.
Left: Jacket and shorts Issey Miyake
We have so much more to see of you! What has been your highlight so far?
I think my biggest highlight is always the moments where I stop and realise I’m actually in the room. I’ll be backstage or in a smoking area somewhere in Berlin or New York, talking to people whose music I used to rinse on SoundCloud, and suddenly we’re talking as peers. We’re swapping stories about sets and music, and I have those little moments where I think… how the fuck did I get here?
It never gets old. It always humbles me because I know where it started. Just me in my bedroom on a controller, spending hours in Pirate Studios trying to get blends right. To know that those hours have somehow taken me around the world is mad. Travelling through music will always be the biggest reward. Whenever I start overthinking or doubting myself, I just remind myself… they booked the flight, they booked the hotel, they put me on the lineup. You can’t argue with that. You’re here for a reason. So I try to enjoy it because I know baby me would never have believed this was possible.
Left: Jeans and jumper Aries / Right: Knitted polo Missoni
What’s the version of yourself you’re still building toward, the one we haven’t met yet?
I think the version of me I’m still building towards is the one that’s completely relaxed in who they are, in every single facet. I’ve unlocked quite a few, but still a few to go! Not relaxed because everything’s perfect, but because they trust the journey they’re on.
I’ve spent a lot of my life fighting. Feeling like I need to prove myself, keep up, or get to the next thing. I’m slowly learning that maybe the real goal isn’t arriving somewhere. It’s trusting that I belong wherever I am. Everything I’m building with Locked In with Lexii, and everything I create, comes from that. Having the audacity to back myself and keep following my own path, even when it doesn’t make sense to everyone else. I don’t know if I’ll ever fully become that person, and maybe that’s the point. The version I’m chasing keeps moving because I’m still growing. But I think one day I’ll look around and realise I was already there. I was so busy aiming for the stars, I didn’t realise I’d already made it amongst them.
Left: Edward Sexton, Shoes Romer London
And finally, what does Fucking Young mean to you?
Fucking Young honestly feels like a milestone to me. I remember getting scouted as a model and looking at the boys in Fucking Young, thinking, damn… I wanna be in there one day. It represented fashion, creativity, sensuality, and a world I wanted to be part of.
You know, you want to feel like you’ve made it; you’re an IT BOY, I guess. Which I think can be kinda unhealthy, but it’s also good to have aspirations. Now that it’s actually here, though, it means so much more than insecure pangs of recognition to me. It means standing in my own truth, being seen for who I actually am, and being recognised for my contribution, my sense of self, and my journey. That means so much more to me. It just shows that dreams evolve. They don’t disappear. I think they just expand.
The mad thing is, I’m here now not just because of modelling, but because I backed myself. I pitched it. I wanted to tell my story and show who I am creatively, not just what I look like.
It also feels like a full-circle moment because this whole project has been built with friends and people who’ve believed in me from the start. Every collaborator on this shoot has put so much love, care and kindness into bringing my world to life, and I’ll never forget that. Shout out to every single one of you.
So yeah… Fucking Young means growth. It means community. It means family. And it reminds me that if you keep backing yourself, eventually the world starts listening.
Right: Total Look Edward Sexton
Left: Trousers Eric, Sunglasses Gentle Monster / Right: Total Look Jawara Alleyne
Total Look Bianca Saunders
Trousers Eric, Sunglasses Gentle Monster
Right: Total Look Issey Miyake, Shoes Puma
Right: Total Look Edward Sexton
Trousers Eric, Sunglasses Gentle Monster
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