For more than a decade, ZHU has carved out a world entirely his own, blending electronic music with cinematic storytelling, striking visuals and an unwavering commitment to artistic evolution. Since the Grammy-nominated success of Faded, he has continually challenged expectations, refusing to be confined by genre or convention.
His latest album, BLACK MIDAS, marks perhaps his most personal chapter yet. Created after the Southern California wildfires forced him from his home and studio, much of the record was written while travelling across America in a Mercedes Sprinter van. In returning to underground clubs, warehouse parties and the raw energy of the dance floor, ZHU rediscovered the creative instincts that first defined him.
Speaking with House of Solo, he reflects on rebuilding after loss, the philosophy behind “techno as an attitude,” the evolution of BLACKLIZT, and why embracing uncertainty ultimately reignited his passion for making music. Honest, thoughtful and quietly optimistic, ZHU reveals how BLACK MIDAS became more than an album. It became a testament to survival, resilience and the belief that sometimes the only way forward is to keep moving.
Hello ZHU, thanks for taking the time to talk to us. ‘ Call Me Baby’ just dropped, how are you feeling about it?
I feel like its a great introduction to the world of Blacklizt DC at BERHTA
The song feels like something fans who have followed ZHU since Faded would enjoy – did you have that in mind when making the song?
I wanted to go back to the club roots from the NIGHTDAY era and wanted to make sure that my club fans were being fed
Have you played this song live yet?
Yes, at Tomorrowland, Pacha NYC, Space Miami, Navy Pier Chicago, Vaiven Festival Mexico, and more
Do you see it as a next step from BLACK MIDAS?
I’m putting together a Blacklizt compilation with emerging talent – this is the first release from the compilation
BLACK MIDAS feels like one of your most personal records to date. Looking back now that it’s out in the world, what do you think this album says about who ZHU is in 2026 that your previous records couldn’t?
I think, for me, it’s a story of survival and withstanding hardship. I turned to the dance floor to help me get through those times. In that sense, it’s the most raw and free-flowing record I’ve ever made because I wasn’t really making it for the people around me. It helped me move through a year when I was rebuilding.
Because of that, it allowed me to reconnect deeply with club culture and the dance floor. At the beginning of my career, that connection was incredibly important to me, but as I grew and made different types of albums, I drifted away from it a little. This record simplified a lot of things and brought me back to where it all started. The DJ sets I’ve been doing since have been incredible.
The opening of the album begins with a Turkish coffee reading predicting that your future is “all black.” What was it about that moment that felt so symbolic it had to become the doorway into this project?
The BLACKLIZT parties I started back in 2017 in New York were always the opposite of the large, extravagant, highly produced ZHU shows. They were much more raw, with an underground rave aesthetic, and they were simply about people coming together to listen to music and dance.
As those parties returned while I was DJing more, the colour black took on a lot of symbolic meaning for me. It represents rebirth, tribalism and something primal. It allowed me to see people who had come for the same reason I had. It was amazing to see my tribe all over the world gathering on dance floors, all dressed in black.
You described 2025 as “survival mode.” Was there a particular moment during that year when you genuinely questioned whether you would ever make another album?
After my previous album and touring with my band, there was a moment when I wasn’t sure whether my audience wanted to hear me as more of a selector. Throughout my career, what I’ve been most passionate about is combining both worlds. I love the energy and community of dance music, but I also need to be an artist who writes, produces and performs original music.
Finding a way to balance those two sides of myself was difficult until one of them was taken away. Refocusing on DJing forced me to stay in the moment instead of planning too far ahead.
I guess that’s what happens when you’re trying to survive. You only think about what’s directly in front of you. It’s a bittersweet metaphor, but it really sharpens your strengths because you naturally eliminate the things that don’t truly matter.
Making this album on the move, in a short space of time, with just me and Ben, reignited my passion for club records.
Much of BLACK MIDAS was created from the road in a Mercedes Sprinter van rather than in a traditional studio. Did the constant movement influence the emotional rhythm of the record in ways a permanent studio never could?
I think movement is amazing because it allows me to keep experimenting, trying new ideas and hearing the same record in different environments. Every time I’m moving, my brain gets excited and that sparks creativity. I’ve never been someone who enjoys staying still.
For these records especially, the foundation was always rhythm and production rather than sitting down with a notebook to write lyrics. It was a completely different approach to songwriting.
Throughout your career, you’ve blurred the lines between house, techno, R&B, soul and cinematic storytelling. On BLACK MIDAS, you describe it as “techno as an attitude.” What does that philosophy actually mean beyond the music itself?
For me, it’s an attitude because it’s a reaction to the environment around you. There’s a real do-it-yourself mentality behind it.
Growing up in San Francisco, from the jam bands and funk scenes of the seventies and eighties to alternative music and later hip hop, there was always this attitude that nobody was going to do it for you. You had to make things happen yourself.
That philosophy became part of the DNA of this record. During survival mode, you have to make quick decisions and keep moving forward.
Your work has always been driven by atmosphere rather than simply songs. Do you begin with a visual world in your head first, or does the music create that world for you?
I imagined thousands of people dressed in black, almost like the scene in Zion from The Matrix. For this record, I wanted to build an environment where it felt as though the outside world was chaotic, but inside this cave, bunker or warehouse there was a strange sense of peace.
That’s the beauty of the dance floor. The chaos inside it can actually be incredibly peaceful.
You collaborated with artists including Mahmut Orhan, THEY., Joyia and GCBestBelieve, many of whom come from very different musical backgrounds. What do you look for in a collaborator that goes beyond technical ability?
A lot of it comes down to timing. People arrive at the right place at the right time, whether they’re there to give something or receive something.
Everyone involved in this project crossed my path naturally. From Zonly, who’s based in Oklahoma and paints live on stage, to producers like HNTR and Ivory from around the world, each person added something valuable at exactly the right moment.
Timing is one of the most important things in music. The best collaborations happen naturally, never because they’re forced.
Tracks like “LEVELZZZ” and “BURN” carry this underground energy, while “RAINDOWN” closes the album on a far more reflective note. Was sequencing the emotional journey just as important as writing the individual songs?
Absolutely. I think sequencing is becoming a bit of a lost art. There’s a difference between playing a DJ set or putting together a concert setlist and taking someone on a journey.
For this album, I wanted people to experience both chaos and relief while making the record enjoyable from beginning to end.
At three in the morning inside a warehouse, you can play incredibly aggressive music, but that doesn’t necessarily translate to headphones or listening in the car. I wanted the album to flow smoothly, even though the opening half is much heavier and more intense.
Your quote about preferring extremes rather than “living in the middle” feels almost like a life philosophy. Has embracing extremes made you a better artist, or simply made you more comfortable taking risks?
I think, especially early on, you naturally try to please lots of different people and become a mediator between different ideas.
As much as I love combining different influences, I also get a lot of satisfaction from taking one or two ideas and pushing them as far as they can go.
This record was made during an extremely intense period of my life, so embracing those extremes became the most honest way to express what I was experiencing.
Since “Faded” first introduced you to the world over a decade ago, electronic music has changed dramatically. What has been the biggest misconception people have had about you throughout that journey?
I think a lot of people still don’t realise that I wrote those records and sang on them myself.
Sometimes my performance comes through DJing, while other times it comes through performing as an artist.
Now that people know who I am and I’ve become more open about my creative process and the musicians who perform with me, we’ve been able to build a world that is fundamentally electronic at its core. The engine is electronic, but it’s the humans who bring it to life.
You’ve successfully balanced being a producer, DJ, singer, songwriter, filmmaker and live performer. Is there one side of yourself that you still feel audiences haven’t fully discovered?
I’m also a designer, and that’s actually been important to me from the very beginning.
Great design takes complicated ideas and makes them feel simple, intuitive and even fun.
What excites me most is taking unconventional genres, sounds or emotions that people struggle to describe and expressing them through music, visuals and experiences in a way that allows people to feel something they can’t quite put into words.
The BLACKLIZT warehouse experience has become much more than a club night. What have traditional festival stages failed to offer that BLACKLIZT allows you to explore creatively?
It’s the sense of enclosure. When I think about places like Fabric, Berghain or Brooklyn Storehouse, there’s this feeling that the outside world has disappeared.
People stop worrying about how they look and simply lose themselves in the music.
When the lights are on and everyone feels like they’re being watched, people naturally hold something back. A great dance party removes that feeling and lets people dance without inhibition.
Your Ultra Music Festival performance this year, complete with mannequins and fire surrounding you in the round, felt closer to immersive theatre than a conventional DJ set. How important is storytelling when designing your live experiences?
It’s incredibly important. I think about every detail before I step on stage, especially at festivals.
With BLACKLIZT, I always try to open up the stage and backstage so there are a couple of hundred people surrounding me. As a DJ, I need to feel close to the crowd because it’s much easier to read their energy than when you’re standing sixty feet away.
The mannequins actually started during COVID when we couldn’t have people on stage during livestreams. Over time, they became symbolic, representing these futuristic, fashion-inspired, slightly eerie figures.
At the same time, they created the feeling of a crowd around me. DJing always feels more energetic when you’re surrounded by people.
There has always been an element of mystery surrounding ZHU, especially during the early years when you deliberately stayed anonymous. Looking back now, do you think that mystery protected your artistry or complicated it?
I think it did both.
One thing I really appreciated was that my earliest fans fell in love with the music first. That foundation is incredibly important because it means people are there for the art itself.
At the same time, it took longer for people to get to know who I really am. But I think everything happened the way it was supposed to, and now I’m able to tell my story without needing the mystery anymore.
Dance music is often associated with escapism, yet BLACK MIDAS feels rooted in genuine personal loss and resilience. Do you think the dance floor can also be a place for healing?
Absolutely.
Sometimes we don’t even know what’s wrong. We just know something doesn’t feel right, and we don’t have the words to explain it.
Moving your body, releasing energy and sharing a room with other people creates both euphoria and a real sense of community.
That kind of connection helps everyone at some point in their lives. It’s incredibly important.
Your music often feels cinematic enough to exist beyond clubs. Have you ever considered creating a full-length feature film or scoring a movie entirely within the ZHU universe?
That’s definitely one of my ambitions.
I’d love to direct a film where I create the music, shape the script and build the entire world around it.
I love cinema. I’ve scored films before and worked on film projects, so when the time feels right, I’d love to fully immerse myself in that process and maybe even turn the cinema into a dance floor.
Having travelled across the world during the making of this album, were there any cities, cultures or underground scenes that unexpectedly left a permanent mark on your creative vision?
Definitely.
One experience that really stayed with me was finally visiting Fabric in London. Even though I’d been to London many times before, I’d never actually experienced the club until after my show there.
My friend Seth Troxler was playing, and wandering through the club while someone else was performing reminded me what it feels like to discover something incredible as a fan. That feeling stayed with me.
You’ve built a career by refusing to follow trends. In today’s algorithm-driven music industry, how difficult is it to protect artistic instinct from commercial expectations?
It’s always a balancing act.
Of course I want people to hear my music, but I also want them to experience it the way I intended.
I actually enjoy that challenge because it forces me to find ways to reach a large audience without compromising the integrity or intelligence of what I’m trying to say.
Over time, I think that approach lasts longer and stands out more. Even after more than a decade, I still feel like I’m simply being myself, and that’s what people connect with.
Finally, if someone listens to BLACK MIDAS alone, from start to finish in the dark with no distractions, what do you hope they discover about themselves by the time “RAINDOWN” fades out?
I hope they discover a part of themselves they can lean on when life becomes difficult. At the listening party, when I played the record from beginning to end, I said that this album was made for anyone who simply needed something to help them keep moving forward. After everything I’ve been through, I realised that tomorrow is another day. You just have to make it to the next moment, then the next one, and then the next.
In many ways, that’s what DJing is. You’re always finding your way to the next track, then the next one, until eventually you find your flow. First you survive, and then, if you keep going, you get the chance to thrive. That’s where I’m heading now, and it’s where I hope this album can help bring other people too.
