Josh Caffé: “The Night’s Nearly Over, But Nobody Wants It to End” [Q&A]

Josh Caffé has a phrase for his music: “sophisticated filth.” It fits The Velvet Hour, his debut EP for dh2, which is out now. The record is slippery, tense, suggestive and electrifying. Caffé knows when to push a bassline or vocal forward and, just as importantly, when to get out of the way and let it ride. 

The Velvet Hour takes its name from his favorite stretch of a night out, somewhere between 4AM and 9AM. By then, the crowd has thinned, the posing has mostly stopped and people are more open, more emotional and often much stranger. The EP grew out of the queer clubs and festival dance floors where Caffé feels most at home, though it never tries to reproduce any one room. Instead, it holds onto what happens inside them once people finally let their guard down.

Below, Caffé talks about restraint, the power of the human voice in house music, London’s queer nightlife and the peculiar honesty of a dance floor that has stayed open long past good sense.

You once described your music as "sophisticated filth," so what makes something filthy in the right way?

For me, it's all about tension. The filthiest records aren't the ones that give everything away, they leave something to the imagination. You can make a track feel sexy with a bassline, a vocal or even just the space between the drums. That's where the sophistication comes in. It's knowing when to hold back. I always want my music to feel seductive rather than obvious. Mind you, a little filth in the lyrics never hurt anyone.

What was the starting point for The Velvet Hour, and what did you want this project to say about where you are as an artist right now?

The starting point was really this idea I'd been obsessed with for a while. I found myself playing records by artists like William Orbit, World Class Wreckin' Cru and Phortune during that window between four and nine in the morning. Those tracks always seemed to come alive at that time and I realized they all shared this hypnotic, sensual quality that felt perfect for those final hours on the dance floor.

For me, that's the Velvet Hour. It's that strange moment when people become a little more vulnerable and uninhibited. The night's nearly over, but nobody wants it to end. The music hits differently, emotions run a little deeper, and it almost starts to feel like a fever dream.

I wanted to take those influences and filter them through my own world. Rather than recreating those records, I wanted to capture that feeling and create my own Velvet Hour. It feels like all the different parts of my musical world have finally met in one place.

"Limousine" deals with infidelity, avoidance, and emotional consequence; what drew you to that story, and how did working with Quinn Whalley help bring it to life?

I think those are things most of us experience at some point in our lives, whether we're the one causing the hurt or we're on the receiving end of it. I wasn't interested in telling people how to feel about it. I just wanted to explore those emotions through the lyrics and capture all the desire, guilt and emotional messiness that comes with it.

Working with Quinn was a huge part of bringing that to life. He's incredibly open-minded in the studio, and "no" is never really part of his vocabulary. If anything, he'll encourage me to push an idea even further and express it with even more conviction. We're really in sync creatively, and that trust means I never feel like I have to hold anything back.

The EP is inspired by spaces like IsBurning, Adonis, Panorama Bar and Horst Festival; how did those rooms, and that 4 AM sense of freedom, shape the sound and spirit of The Velvet Hour?

Those spaces definitely shaped the record, but it was more about what I was witnessing than trying to recreate a particular club or dance floor. There's something really special that happens between four and nine in the morning. People stop performing. Their guard comes down, they become more vulnerable, more connected and more instinctive. Those are the moments I find the most inspiring.

Places like IsBurning, Adonis, Panorama Bar and Horst are spaces where people feel free to let go and be themselves, and I think that's when the most honest moments happen. From the DJ booth, you see desire, joy, intimacy and heartbreak all unfolding at the same time. It almost feels like everyone's sharing the same fever dream.

I wanted The Velvet Hour to capture that feeling rather than the sound of any one place. Whether you're listening at home or in a club, I wanted it to transport you into that world.

You've long treated the voice as a full-body instrument in house music, so what still excites you about putting vocals at the center of a sweaty club track?

House music has always been built around the voice in a way. Long before DJs became the focus, it was the vocalists who gave those records their soul, emotion and identity. Putting my voice at the centre of my music is my way of paying homage to those pioneers, and I don't think we should ever forget that.

What still excites me is how powerful the human voice can be on a dance floor. A great vocal can completely change the energy in a room. It gives people something to connect with emotionally as well as physically. I love making records that move your body, but if I can make you feel something at the same time, then I've done my job!

Between music, fashion, performance and pure after-dark theatre, what does the Josh Caffé universe look, smell and sound like in its most fabulous form?

It looks like a fever dream, smells of frankincense and sweat, and sounds like the music playing just before the lights come on at an '80s New York gay sauna.

How has London's queer club culture continued to influence the way you write, perform and think about dance music?

London's queer club culture has shaped every part of who I am as an artist. It's given me a community, a place to experiment and, most importantly, the confidence to be completely myself. That's something I never take for granted.

Those dance floors have taught me that club music can be so much more than just functional. It can be emotional, theatrical, vulnerable, euphoric and completely liberating all at once. That's something I always carry into my writing and my performances. I want people to come away feeling like they've experienced something together, not just listened to a DJ set.

At its best, a queer dance floor is a place where everyone can let their guard down and be exactly who they are. That's a feeling I've been lucky enough to experience over the years, and it's something I'll always try to put into my music.

What's next for Josh Caffé?

More music. We can sleep when we're dead.

Josh Caffé's The Velvet Hour EP is out now via dh2

Get it on Beatport