Not too long ago, Oliver Mitch dropped a guest mix for The Sandy Times Radio (STR), blending his latest releases with tracks from SLAPPED artists, plus a few personal favourites he has played everywhere from Buenos Aires to Ibiza. Seriously, give it a listen — it is a real gem.

Mitch is a Montreal native, but his music has taken him just about everywhere: Ibiza, Buenos Aires, Igloofest, Burning Man, SXM Festival, and way beyond. He even launched his own label, SLAPPED Records, and has fans all over the map. What struck me most while talking to him? I am not sure he even realises how big his impact is. He is just doing his thing, and the world keeps listening.

So let’s get into his story and the music he makes.

— Mitch, everyone knows you as a DJ and music producer now, but there was a time when you had no idea music would become your career. What were you doing before all this? And is anyone else in your family involved in music?

— So, I grew up outside Montreal. Neither of my parents worked in the music industry; both of them were in science. My dad was a pharmacist, and my mom was a dentist. Still, music was always a big part of their lives. My dad has played the piano his whole life, and my grandfather was a violin and piano teacher. Music was important to them and was always present in our house.

There was always music playing at home. My parents loved to throw disco parties, and the house was always filled with music. So, for me, music was just a natural part of growing up. But I never really thought about it as a possible career. I was more focused on doing what was expected — finding a “real” profession. My parents were very career-oriented, so I just followed that path without really questioning it.

I was very much into sports. I did alpine skiing for years. I started when I was a kid, and got serious about it from around age ten or twelve up to my early twenties. That was my main focus.

Even so, I was always the friend who loved finding and sharing new music. I’d download music, burn CDs for my friends, and bring music to all the parties. It wasn’t just electronic music — it was everything: hip-hop, pop, whatever was popular. I loved discovering new tracks and sharing them with others.

Because I spent a few years professionally skiing (at a ski academy in the US), I travelled a lot and listened to every kind of music. I just had a good ear for picking out what would be a hit or what would work for school dances. I was around 14, totally into music, but I still didn’t see it as something I’d ever do professionally.

Then, when I got to university, I was still the one choosing the music at parties. At some point, I started to think it might actually be interesting to learn how to do this for real.

— What did you study?

— I studied accounting at McGill. I just wanted a “real” profession, so I chose something stable.

However, at the same time, I was always hosting parties and was always the one in charge of the music. Back then, it was just iTunes — no DJing, just playing tracks. Still, I started thinking maybe it’d be interesting to learn how to mix songs properly.

That was around the time EDM was really blowing up in North America, especially in Canada. We didn’t grow up with techno or underground music; it was all about discovering electronic music through artists like Tiesto, Avicii, Calvin Harris, and all those BBC Radio mixes from around 2010. That is really when I fell in love with EDM.

And that is when I figured it would be more interesting to learn how to DJ, not just play playlists. So, I bought my first controller and signed up at a small DJ school in Montreal while I was still doing my accounting degree.

I started out playing house parties, just wanting to play music for my friends. That is how I got started, and from there, I never looked back.

I just kept practising, got deeper into electronic music — moving from mainstream EDM into house, deep house, discovering new genres and techniques. But it was still just for fun, nothing serious — just something I did alongside university and ski coaching.

By 2016, though, I’d really fallen in love with DJing. I wanted to start playing in real clubs — places that actually cared about electronic music and brought in serious acts. I had the chance to open for some international artists, thanks to a local collective in Montreal that really supported me early on. That period taught me the art of reading a room, which I think is the most important part of DJing. At the end of the day, it is about hosting — sensing the vibe, whether it is too hot, too cold, too loud, too much or too little vocals, the energy, everything. I think that has always been my strength: being sensitive to the crowd.

I got recognised for being good at opening sets, playing the right music for the vibe, and that is when I really started to love the underground sound in Montreal. Organic house was just starting to take off, and there were local artists like Kora making a name for themselves. I got my start at Velvet, a club in Montreal, where I played on Thursdays as a sort of test run. After a while, I started throwing my own nights there, and that eventually turned into a monthly residency. That is when I started using the Mitch Oliver name. Before that, I just played under my own name, DJ Sauce, at random gigs, weddings, anything to get experience.

When I started playing more and more shows, I began opening for bigger acts — Kidnap, Prok & Fitch, Tube & Berger, Nick Warren, and others. But at that point, in 2017, I was still working full-time in the accounting field during the week, ski coaching at the weekends and DJing on top of that. I was 27, and eventually realised I wanted to do music seriously. I knew that if I really wanted to give this career a proper shot, I’d have to dedicate more time to it — and learn how to produce my own music.

So, I quit my full-time job and attended music school for a year. It was kind of surreal, being in class with 18-year-olds, but it was the right move. It was a great way to learn about audio as a whole. By the time I finished, I was ready to start making music, but that is the thing — just because you have the tools, it doesn’t mean you instantly know how to make a song you are actually happy with. It takes a while to get to that point.

But that is how I ended up doing music full-time. As soon as I went to music school, I never looked back. I have been working in music ever since.

— Do you remember your very first gigs?

— I remember that we did a ton of house parties, and honestly, those can be some of the hardest gigs to play. Nothing is set up for you — the sound usually isn’t great, the gear might be basic, and the crowd isn’t always there just to dance. There is no real dance floor, so you have to work a lot harder to get people moving

If you can get 20 people dancing and keep them going at a house party, you are doing something right. It is way harder than it looks, because if half the group decides to step out for a smoke or a drink, suddenly the energy drops. With a thousand people in a club, once the dance floor fills up, your job is almost done — the crowd keeps itself going. At a small house party, you really have to earn it. I learned a lot from those early gigs.

Later, with some friends from university, we started throwing bigger events, sometimes even renting out clubs. That was my first real experience playing in a proper club setting, with a big sound system and a proper setup. It was super exciting, but at that point, I was still mostly playing popular music for the crowd, not really the deeper sounds I’d eventually fall in love with.

That shift happened around 2016. One of my first big gigs opening for well-known acts was at Newspeak, a pretty iconic club in Montreal. I was definitely nervous — it was a new environment, new gear (I was used to controllers, now it was CDJs), and a much bigger crowd. I felt confident about my music selection, but I was definitely stressed about everything else. But for some reason, once I get on stage, I feel like nothing can really scare me. It is weird to say, but I almost feel like I was made for it. I just felt at home. Performing is my comfort zone.

One of my proudest moments was when I got my first residency at Velvet, where I really discovered the organic house sound. It was around the time Burning Man was blowing up for that style, and Kora was playing there regularly. They gave me a shot at Thursdays, which are tough because you don’t have to bring your own crowd, and the energy can be unpredictable. But they said, “Let’s see how you do,” and it worked out. I kept that residency up until the pandemic.

What made that residency special was that I finally had the freedom to write my own musical story. At house parties or university gigs, you always feel that pressure to play crowd-pleasers, to keep everyone happy and the party going. You have to read the room and sometimes compromise. But at Velvet, I knew the people coming were already into the sound I loved, so I could really go deeper and play what inspired me, not just what was expected.

I remember for those first few shows, I’d bring a friend with me — he was a great club DJ, super technical, played tons of weddings and events. I was honestly nervous about messing up, so I just wanted that reassurance, someone who could help if something went wrong. But it turned out I was ready. It was all just in my head. Once I started playing, everything felt right.

— So, a lot has happened since then. You have released your music, worked with so many musicians and labels, and played everywhere — from Amsterdam to Ibiza, Miami, Burning Man, SXM Festival, and more. We could probably talk for hours about all your shows, but maybe you could highlight one or two especially memorable performances. Was there a festival that stood out to you?

— The first truly huge festival moment for me was last winter, at Igloofest in Montreal. I was direct support for Miss Monique, and within 20 minutes of starting, the place was completely packed. I ended up playing to about 12,000 people. We recorded the whole set for YouTube, and honestly, it was just mental. I couldn’t believe how massive the crowd was.

When I walked off stage, I saw my face plastered across three huge shipping containers stacked on top of each other — my head, blown up to that insane scale. That moment really hit me. Just 30 minutes before, I’d been up there playing, and now here I was, face ten meters tall. It was surreal.

Playing on a stage that big is a wild feeling. It is not the same as playing to 300-500 people in a tiny club, where you can really read the crowd and connect on every track. In small clubs, you know instantly when something hits, and you can really communicate and flow with the crowd. On a massive stage, it is more of a performance — you just hope people are into it, because you can’t really read them. The energy is just huge, but less personal.

Festivals require you to be more open musically. For Igloofest, I put a lot of effort into preparing my set. I premiered a lot of my own tracks, and for the first time, I even brought out a singer who features on one of my latest releases. It was nerve-wracking, but it worked out amazingly well.

But the coolest moment from that night wasn’t even music-related. I used to coach ski racing, and over the years, I got really close with some of my students. Three girls I’d coached for years showed up at the festival with a giant sign that said “We love you, DJ SAUCE” — that was my DJ name back then. I had no idea they were coming. In a crowd of 12,000 people, seeing them in the front row holding up that sign hit me hard — I actually cried. They weren’t even huge electronic music fans; they just came because they wanted to support me. It meant everything.

— During Igloofest, you also performed “Catch Me” — the track you made with Julie Neff. It is beautiful!

— Thanks! This track was different from others because it was the first time I really worked with a vocalist and approached it as a “song” — with a chorus, a pre-chorus, a hook, all those elements that make something feel like an actual song. Writing something catchy that tells a story is a whole different process, and I felt like this was the first time I really pulled it off. It was cool to merge my sound design with a more vocal, song-driven approach.

I actually found Julie Neff, the vocalist, on SoundBetter. And I had no idea she was from Toronto! We connected online, started out just messaging, then moved to phone calls and WhatsApp, and it really clicked. She even ended up moving to Montreal last year, so we got to meet and perform the song together at Igloofest.

Another big thing for me was being able to release the track on Get Physical. I have been a massive fan of their label for years. So releasing with them, especially after “Out of Space” did well, and building a real relationship with the label, has been amazing.

— That is great. I know that collaborating with other creative people can be tricky — you really need to find that perfect match, no disconnects, just a real creative spark. Out of all the tracks you have produced, is there one you love the most?

— I am glad you brought up collaboration, because honestly, I have always been a people person. I love bringing out the best in the people around me. That is how I was when I was a ski coach or a team leader, and it is the same now in music. Collaborations just make sense for me. Sure, sometimes I need my own bubble to come up with ideas, but creating something together is way more interesting to me than doing everything alone.

In electronic music, people tend to think producers are just introverts sitting alone in a basement, doing everything themselves and then magically appearing on stage. But that is just not true — at least, not for me. It is always a group effort. I wish people in our scene talked about that more.

So, there is one I am especially proud of. And it is a collaboration. It is called “Paris Lovin’”, which I put out on my label, Slapped Records, back in March. I made it with Tyler Mesa, a close friend from Montreal who has this amazing, proggy sound. It was a really fun experience — we’d worked together before on a completely different track, but this time we wanted a vocal song. So we reached out to Keili Mei on Instagram (after loving her other work), and it all just clicked.

Keili wrote great lyrics, and we worked together on the melody until we found that hook, so catchy that people could actually hum it after just one listen. We even filmed a music video for it — our first one ever for the label. Living through that creative process and seeing the song come to life was just as important as any chart success. That is the thing I love about collaborating: it is about the journey, the people, and the memories you create together, not just the numbers or the hype.

Doing the song with my best friend, figuring out the melody with another buddy, filming the video with a whole team — including my ex, who works in the film industry and helped make it all happen — it felt like we were actually shooting a movie. There were approximately 50 people involved, all working on my own label, and it showed how much I value collaboration and being part of a team.

“Paris Lovin’” felt like the catchiest song I’d ever done. It didn’t blow up on the platforms the way we’d hoped, but honestly, that didn’t matter to me. Sometimes I’d listen to it and think, “Did we really make this?” That song really reminded me why I make music in the first place. It reignited that spark.

— I know it is obvious, but everything just moves so fast now — new trends, new sounds, always something changing. The crowd always wants more, and they want it faster. You have been in music for a while. How do you keep going when the whole scene just keeps speeding up? How do you deal with that? How do you stay true to yourself?

— Yeah, well, you know, it is easy to fall into that trap — I have definitely been there a few years ago. We don’t really talk about this stuff; everything just looks so perfect on social media, and everything moves so fast, it is easy to get pulled in a million different directions. Everyone is always telling you, “Do this, do that,” and there is just no set recipe for what works.

I come from the sports and accounting fields, where things are more black and white. In skiing, if you train better, eat better, listen to your coach, maybe you shave a second off your time, but if someone beats you, they just beat you. It is not personal, it is just facts. But music isn’t like that. It has always been subjective, but now it is even more so, because people are judging you on things that have nothing to do with your actual skills as a DJ. Honestly, DJing skills are probably the last thing people look at now — it is all about Instagram and image and everything else.

It is easy to lose touch with why you started doing this in the first place. That is why I keep coming back to, “What am I doing this for?” Sure, it is about getting booked, building your name, and getting bigger gigs, but at the end of the day, you have to ask if what you are doing actually makes you happy. Some of my favourite gigs have been the smallest shows — the ones that don’t move the needle career-wise, but they fill your heart. Sometimes those are the moments that keep you going through the next six months of uncertainty. You just have to listen to your gut and stick to what feels right, even when everyone is telling you something different. That is not easy — I am honestly better at giving that advice to others than taking it myself — but I am trying to get better at it.

As for DJing, I have never had a problem playing for the crowd. I am a people pleaser — I want people to dance and have a good time. Sure, I love certain sounds or genres, but at the end of the day, it is about making sure everyone is happy. Even if a promoter tells me, “Just play what you want, I booked you for your sound,” if I see 100 people in front of me who clearly want something else, I am going to adapt. I will give them what they want, and maybe after they trust me, I can introduce them to something new.

Of course, as your career progresses, you want to be in situations where the crowd is already there for what you do. At the start, you are saying yes to everything, so you end up playing all sorts of places that might not be the right fit. But once you get to that point where you are mostly booked for what you do best, that is when everything lines up and you can really enjoy it. But for me, if I can see people smiling and dancing, then I am happy too.

— Okay, now the creative part of our conversation. You have been almost everywhere. Are there cities you always love coming back to for music?

— It is hard to name a few, but… let it be Buenos Aires and Ibiza.

— Great! So, can you try to describe the sound of three cities for me? Let’s start with Montreal — your hometown.

— Montreal would definitely be loud, for sure. Chaotic, even. It is about the city’s mood swings. Because we have such extreme temperature differences between the peak of summer and the dead of winter, people’s moods just swing wildly. If Montreal were a sound, it would be something that changes abruptly, like in classical music, where there is a super quiet moment and then suddenly, it is really loud. That is how the city feels: festival season in summer, everyone is out and about, and then winter hits and suddenly everyone starts complaining.

— Now, Buenos Aires.

— Hot. Definitely hot — for a lot of reasons. I mean, sweaty, passionate… those are the first words that come to mind. I know we are talking about “sounds,” but honestly, what I think of are just pure emotions. It is intense, for sure. The people are some of the most passionate I have ever met — so warm and kind, but also very intense.

And it is not just the loud, fiery energy; there is something really grounded about South America, too. People there seem to really live in the moment, maybe more so than we do in North America. I absolutely love the culture; it touched me deeply. Argentina, especially — it is hands down my favourite place to play in the world.

— And the final one: Ibiza.

— Well, my first thought is “summer breeze.” But honestly, it is more complicated than that. I almost wanted to say “hotter” or “exciting,” because Ibiza can feel overwhelming, even a little bit chaotic or intense. But it is one of those places where, if you go with the right mindset and find the right spots, you really do discover the magic — kindness, softness, community — right in the middle of all that madness.

It is kind of like a genre of music that seems wild and intense on the surface, but if you dig deep, you will find warmth and love in there, too. Underneath it all, it actually feels like a warm, sweet summer breeze. That is Ibiza for me.