Manifesto of the Unruly: Who’s behind Unmixed?

Before I dive into interviews and candid conversations for Unmixed Magazine, I want to introduce myself—not as an observer of music, but as someone who has lived through its transformations. My story isn’t just about listening; it’s about movement, experimentation, and finding my place within sound.

Just like you, I didn’t ask to be born, but life has a way of throwing you into its current, whether you’re ready or not. And so, I was born in post-soviet Georgia. Time is a stubborn thing, and life kept unfolding. When I was old enough to walk, I danced. When I was old enough to listen, I heard music in everything—even in the clinking of my grandmother’s teacups and the rhythmic nagging of relatives insisting I eat more. And when I was old enough to see, I saw the world not as a place to settle but as an open canvas waiting for movement, for color, for sound, and more importantly for change. 

My grandfather’s paintings filled the walls of our apartment in Tbilisi—French landscapes, each one breathing with color and life, interrupted only by the figures of nude women, uninhibited and free. Nothing was censored. Art was art, existing exactly as it was meant to. My mother, though not a painter, carried artistry in everything she did—from the way she transformed everyday moments into melodies to the way she filled silence with stories. This was my inheritance: a life where creativity was not an indulgence but a necessity, a way of seeing, of breathing. 

In my early school years, music became my language. I picked up a guitar, formed a band, and lost myself in its raw energy. Eventually, I transitioned to a bass guitar, drawn to its weight—the way it held everything together without demanding attention. Around the same time, I was dancing everywhere: in my bedroom, in the streets, at underground shows where sweat and sound blurred into something greater than both.

Punk rock was my first real teacher.

It wasn’t just music—it was a challenge, a push against the expected. That restless, do-it-yourself mentality shaped everything I would go on to create. By the time I was 15, that same rebellious spirit led me to electronic music. It felt like a natural evolution—where punk had been untamed and unfiltered, electronic music was limitless, a playground of sound waiting to be bent and reshaped.

My love for music was never passive; it was visceral, consuming.

I’ve tried both DJing and making music myself, and while I love the process, I realized my real home isn’t behind the decks—it’s on the dancefloor, moving with the crowd. That’s where music feels the most alive, where it stops being a product and becomes an experience.

That need for something real, something unpolished and unafraid, is what led to Unmixed Magazine. This isn’t just another music publication—it’s a space for artists who still believe in risk, for conversations that don’t hide behind PR scripts, and for those who know that music is more than just a trend.

This is where my story meets yours. Let’s keep it REAL.