Artist Profile: DJ Nobu

You can feel something unmistakably rebellious in how a DJ Nobu set unfolds—sometimes slowly, like a rolling thunderhead, and other times with a punch of industrial noise that rattles your core. But to understand Nobu, you have to go back, not to Tokyo’s sleek nightclub scene, but to Chiba, a coastal Japanese city known more for its many fish markets than for underground culture. This is where the story of DJ Nobu, born Nobu Matsuhisa, starts, not with 808s and 909s but with the discordant crash of punk. On Friday, October 25 DJ Nobu will bring this his rebellious, DIY approach to techno to Control Club.

In the late 1990s, Japan’s underground scenes were rife with possibilities, and Nobu found his place in the chaos. Techno entered his life not as an evolution of that same spirit of rebellion of his guitar-driven, punk roots. It wasn’t just about four-to-the-floor beats; it was about creating a space where time and sound could shift unpredictably, much like life in Chiba’s warehouses. As rave culture spread like wildfire across Europe and America, Nobu was introduced to the hypnotic landscapes crafted by DJs like Fumiya Tanaka and Jeff Mills. His ultimate switch from punk to techno was less about abandoning one sound for another and more about discovering a new medium for his anti-commercial spirit.

Fast forward to 2001, and Nobu co-founded Future Terror, a party series that would become legendary in Japan. With its sparse nightlife infrastructure, Chiba wasn’t a prominent place to launch something like this, but that’s the point. From its first days, Future Terror stood apart for merging techno, house, and live experimental acts. Over time, it transformed into a globally recognized brand, hosting icons like Detroit’s DJ Stingray, breaking local talent like ¥ØU$UK€ ¥UK1MAT$U, and even the psychedelic rock of Chile’s Föllakzoid.

One could argue that this eclecticism is a product of Nobu's Japanese roots. Japanese electronic music, particularly techno, has long distinguished itself by a lack of direct allegiance to the Detroit or Berlin scenes. Instead, its artists borrow selectively, infusing their music with layers that reflect the physical isolation of Japan’s geography and the mental space of its urban sprawl. As a result, Nobu’s sound oscillates between dense, claustrophobic beats and wide-open soundscapes that feel meditative in their vastness. One of his more experimental releases, the 14-minute ambient track Zzzz from his 2019 EP ON-Netoh, does away with beats altogether, opting for metallic chimes and aquatic gurgles—a bold move for a genre so often focused on rhythm.

Nobu’s rise beyond Japan was organic when, in the early 2010s, the world started to take notice. His set at Berghain in 2016 left audiences marveling at how he could shift from ambient soundscapes to full-throttle techno without losing the plot. Nobu’s performances at European festivals such as Berlin’s Atonal, Amsterdam’s Dekmantel, and London’s Fabric propelled him further into the global spotlight through a “freeform” DJing philosophy, often challenging listeners with unexpected tempo, texture, and emotion shifts.

Yet, Nobu’s brilliance isn’t confined to the decks. In 2012, he launched Bitta, his own label, as an outlet for the boundary-pushing music that defines his sets. Bitta has become a home for artists like Wata Igarashi, Nao Gunji, and Black Merlin, where everything from psychedelic tones to haunting minimalism has a home.

A restlessness in Nobu also drives him to parts outside the techno spectrum. In 2018, for example, he partnered with Doltz from the Tokyo noise group ENDON for a live performance named Omega Point. In something atypical for a club night, they tore apart the boundaries between techno and noise, using piezo microphones and modular synths to craft something more akin to an art installation than dancefloor fodder. Further work with figures such as Donato Dozzy and Wata Igarashi has also been of particular note for their experimentation.

Nobu’s legacy, though, isn’t just about sound. It’s about the spaces he creates—a smoky warehouse in Chiba or a sprawling festival in Amsterdam. He’s stayed fiercely loyal to the underground. When asked why he still keeps such a low profile, even with international acclaim, Nobu simply shrugs, “It’s about the music, nothing else.” His vision has always been clear: to challenge, to explore, to disrupt.