Mr. Tophat, the Swedish DJ and producer born Rudolf Nordström in 1990, brings a distinctive voice to the global house music scene. Deeply rooted in Stockholm's underground, he draws strong inspiration from the groove of American dance music traditions. A vinyl purist, he favours its tactile warmth and champions physical releases for their longevity. He crafts improvisational mixes, often using almost exclusively his own material, that reflect his jet-lagged, hyped state of mind and preserve authenticity in the Shazam era. Mr. Tophat blends lush, experimental house with a social pulse, creating shared, unpredictable dancefloor experiences that invite open-minded crowds to connect through the unknown.
When you work on music in your studio, do you tend to work more during the day or at night?
⎯⎯⎯ I think it depends on where I am in life. I usually feel like working at night, after around 11 p.m., when it’s no longer “socially acceptable” to call someone, at least on weekdays. That’s when you can relax and really get into a mood. If you continue working past 2 a.m., some extreme things can start to happen around 4 or 5 a.m. During some periods in my life, I’ve been more of a night person, and during others more of a day person. It’s also about the routines you build. For instance, now that I have twins, I’ve had to adjust. My natural habit, if I didn’t have children, would be to just keep going until 7 a.m. and not sleep at all. But now, around 3 a.m., even if I’m not tired, I have to stop what I’m doing and relax.
Did you have a specific approach in mind when you made this mix? Were you aiming for a particular feeling or atmosphere?
⎯⎯⎯ It was essentially made through improvisation, so it’s very naked, a direct reflection of my state of mind at the time. I was also very jet-lagged when I recorded it, which probably contributed to how it turned out. The mix is almost entirely my own music, with the exception of one or two tracks. That was the idea: to play only material that I had written and produced myself. That became the concept. I was also quite hyped and not in a particularly relaxed mood. Maybe that’s because when you fly long distances, your soul is probably somewhere else.
Today, with tools like Shazam and track-recognition apps, it’s very easy to identify music. Do you think that changes what makes a DJ unique?
⎯⎯⎯ I actually love Shazam. I use it myself all the time. I think it’s a great way to connect and share music. But it also destroys some of the magic, some of what once made DJs unique. Today, it’s very easy to copy. I remember being young and hearing DJ Harvey play something and thinking, What is this Turkish disco track? You had to dig for so long to find those gems. Now, it’s easy to build a collection by default. If you have a trained ear, you can also navigate music by sound alone, but that takes time. Computers and artificial intelligence can’t really do that yet. What defines art is still tactile. We’re not there yet at all.
With cloud platforms like YouTube, Mixcloud, and SoundCloud making DJ mixes widely accessible, do you consider the DJ mix a valid release format similar to an LP or album?
⎯⎯⎯ Yes, absolutely. I still believe in DJ craftsmanship and the importance of being a good selector. But since it’s now so easy to fake being a selector, what defines a unique sound has changed. It’s become a crossing point. If you play demos or unreleased music that sounds technically bad, that doesn’t work either. So again, that’s why I decided to play only my own material. That became the core idea behind the mix. And as I said, I was quite hyped and not very relaxed, maybe again because of long-distance travel. Your soul ends up somewhere else. In a way, that helps you understand your surroundings differently. Maybe the mix was onto something because of that.
Growing up in Sweden, how were you first exposed to American dance music?
⎯⎯⎯ American music has always been present in Sweden, everything from Britney Spears to Elvis to Wu-Tang. MTV was huge in Europe during the ’90s. What struck me early on is the feel; there’s often a deep sense of groove in American music, even in very mainstream pop. This is a broad generalization, but it’s how it landed on me as a listener and DJ. I’m speaking musically here, about feel and lineage, not making value judgments about people or cultures. And broadly speaking, I think a lot of that rhythmic language comes from African-diasporic traditions and Black American musical history, blues, gospel, and jazz, shaped by a complex and painful past that influenced so much of U.S. popular music.
Europe has different lineages, and the groove shows up differently. In my experience, some European scenes lean more toward theory and arrangement, while a lot of American dance music leans harder into pocket and feel. I once said something like this to a German friend, and she got upset, rightfully… because groove exists everywhere, it just lives differently in different cultures. And that difference is part of what makes cultures unique. For me, American deep house was what truly pulled me into house music.
You mentioned that you often DJ with vinyl. Do you still see vinyl as important to the music ecosystem?
⎯⎯⎯ Yes, for sure. And when I say that, I’m being a fundamentalist, not subjective. If you compare vinyl to CDs or cassettes, vinyl is the most sustainable medium. It can last the longest. A lot of the underlying math and optics go back centuries; Newton in the 17th century and others laid the foundations, but the breakthrough only came when modern laser tech and digital audio theory matured. Digital playback is, of course, convenient, but there’s a certain magic to vinyl. Vinyl is incredibly complex, especially when you look at how the groove is cut, how it moves left and right, and how it’s essentially a physical negative of the sound. Vinyl feels more alive. Digital can be too clinical. Of course, vinyl can feedback and has imperfections, but that’s part of its life.
How do you feel about digital-only music releases?
⎯⎯⎯ For me, you haven’t really released music unless it exists in a physical format. It’s similar to NFTs and digital art. Digital art can be real, but I’m skeptical about its longevity. Without a stable physical or archival context, it’s easy for work to vanish… or become inaccessible. Think about old digital cameras from 2010, not that long ago. The files are tiny, corrupted, or inaccessible. Just charging the battery requires multiple adapters. The technology is incredibly vulnerable. If you look 100 or 150 years into the future, people will probably ask, “Who the fuck made these decisions?”
Do you listen to music more on speakers or headphones?
⎯⎯⎯ Mr. G once said: Bass should not be heard; it should be felt. So I prefer speakers. Headphones can feel claustrophobic, like having something in your ears. I always have a radio on quietly in my kitchen, playing classical music. When I drive, I listen to music very loudly. On airplanes, with all the background noise, I really appreciate noise-cancelling headphones.
As a producer and DJ, do you think dance music can function as headphone music as much as club music?
⎯⎯⎯ When I produce, I like to work in a very quiet environment. When you listen quietly, the brush strokes become much clearer. You can really understand the details. But if you’re making club music, you also need to test it loud. You have to crank it to see if it works, to see if it almost hurts your ears. I started DJing because I wanted to share the joy of music I’d discovered with other people. That became very clear during COVID. I went to my studio every day, just like before; there were no curfews in Sweden. But after a few months, I became depressed. I asked myself, Why am I making club music when clubs don’t exist? Club music needs a social context. I find techno easier to listen to alone than house. I love house, but house is more social. If techno is the ice cubes, house is the glass and the drink. Techno is abstract; house is illustrative. I know that’s subjective and probably wrong, but that’s how it feels to me.
We live in a very visually driven culture. How do you think that affects the way people engage with music?
⎯⎯⎯ I think it affects it very badly, but something might be changing. When I played in Toronto at East Room, I was very happy. I asked what people expected, and I was told that Toronto crowds are open-minded. And it was true. People were open. I think people are getting bored of predictability. Everything can be searched. Everything can be Shazam’d. Either we want what we already know, or we want something completely new. I’ve always believed that if you play something famous, ABBA, Britney Spears, everyone in the room has a relationship to it. That can be good, or it can be terrible. But if you play something only you know, your own music, or a personal edit, then everyone shares a new experience together. And that shared experience can truly bring people together.
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Work Redux is a collection of mixes made to be listened to while working. We work closely with local and international DJs to assemble thoughtful music that will carry members throughout their day and introduce them to new sounds. East Room is a shared workspace company providing design-forward office solutions, authentic programming and a diverse community to established companies and enterprising freelancers. We explore art, design, music, and entrepreneurship, visit our news & stories page to read more.
