Label of the Month: N.A.A.F.I

Over the past 15 years, N.A.A.F.I has transformed Mexican club music and propelled it across the global underground. They've carved out the visual aesthetic and sound of Mexico City's burgeoning electronic scene with their cross-pollinated dancefloor heaters and seminal, sweat-drenched parties championing diversity and underrepresented music.

Outside of Mexico, they've melted minds of Berlin 4/4 diehards, sexually liberated Brooklyn voguers and Asian club kids with their dexterous deconstructions blending tribal guarachero, brass-heavy banda, folkloric sounds, Mexican hip-hop, rolling reggaeton, with throbbing synths, Jersey club, footwork, techno, grime, booming trap, acid, South African house and beyond.

All while clocking critical praise on and off the dancefloor for their wildly ambitious live sets described as everything from "brain-breaking beats” “bass without borders" to "tropical hell" and "inducing mosh-pit maelstroms amid a backdrop of sonic assaults via the DJ booth!"

"We have moved the scene so hard over the last 15 years to a good place, but I feel like now, it's time to push it again." Fausto Bahia, co-founder of N.A.A.F.I boldly states.

When we speak, he and fellow co-founder Alberto Bustamante, aka Mexican Jihad (DJ, activist, and architect), are on the other end of the phone from their Mexico City studio. Both are gearing up to celebrate N.A.A.F.I.'s 15th anniversary with parties across four corners of the globe, a string of upcoming releases, hosting a monthly show on NTS, and hyped about working on a pre-hispanic techno opera to be performed at the Venice Biennale.

"If you ask me what my proudest accomplishment with the label has been over the past 15 years; what I’m proud of is not a moment or a thing but really the effect we had in Mexico and abroad. I think we participated a lot in a generational change in the way that people see electronic music, go out and construct a life through electronic music" Fausto begins.

Fausto Bahia is from Puerto Escondido, a Oaxaca beach town. He moved to Mexico City to open a record shop and attend university but dropped out in 2006 to start a music blog with Alberto. Together, they profiled international selectors like Jamie xx alongside local talent, such as experimental Chilean producer Paul Marmota. By the summer of 2010, the duo threw their first party; London's Zombie Death Squad headlined, Marmota supported and N.A.A.F.I was born.

Today, Mexico City is a hotbed for left-field electronic music, and DIY culture, but back in 2010, while E.D.M. and house were pumping out of Tulum, the vibe of CDMX was very different.

"If you wanted to get into a club, there were a lot of rules; you probably needed a girl on your arm and dress shoes - no hats or sneakers. The city had no underground." Fausto tells “Our parties were about bringing like-minded people together into a safe space where they were free to express themselves. Everyone paid the same cover, and we didn't give a fuck what you looked like. Our motto in the beginning was, "If you can afford it, you can come in. And if not, maybe you can come in anyway. Everyone is welcome — no matter their race, sexuality, or what shoes they’re wearing!"

Alberto passionately reflects "We started as a bi-monthly club night showcasing – what at the time we dubbed – "Ritmos Periféricos" (outsider rhythms). But N.A.A.F.I. quickly became a socio-cultural network and our parties a real resistance space."

While Mexico was experiencing a full-on drug war, authorities cracked down on youth culture and nightlife. Strict 8 pm curfews were enforced in some cities, and certain styles of music were banned in clubs to avoid attracting "unsavoury people."

N.A.A.F.I's first obstacle was finding a joint that disagreed. "We were looking for spots open to housing different types of music, and where people could have fun without restrictions. No club wanted to do that." Fausto laughs. "We moved around a lot. I threw a N.A.A.F.I. party, open to the public in my house. Eventually, we found a dive bar that agreed to have us, mainly because he didn't have a lot of options, either. Across the city, all the other clubs had the people and mainstream DJs locked in, so I guess he took the rest of us. The weirdos and the outsiders."

Within two years, N.A.A.F.I's rebellious, bass-laden parties had grown from 400-800+ and gravitated to warehouses, rooftops and finally, their own imprint.

In one of N.A.A.F.I’s earliest interviews, Fausto vents that he didn’t want to put on a poncho and sombrero and sell his “Mexicanness” to the industry. Instead N.A.A.F.I undoubtably pioneered CDMX’s underground and transformed Mexican club music to places no one else had the “cajones” or fierce creativity to take it.

"We wanted to create a progressive platform and dance label to highlight local regional Mexican music and separate ourselves from the stereotypical 'Latin' sound that people previously associated with palm trees, cumbia and a flyer with a sombrero or cactus.” Fausto expresses, “We'd done that. We'd proved that mixing anything with anything was ok- no one is judging you. The N.A.A.F.I universe was growing. At the same time our sound was influencing a lot of people and projects. Because of us, many of those rhythms we’re talking about made it over to Europe, Asia and South America."

"Up until this point, we didn't really want to be called a record label because we had no idea what that meant. We knew we wanted to put out music, promote it and have those artists play our shows." Fausto continues "We didn't have a label to look up too that we could copy and paste or who sounded like how we wanted to sound, and I think that drove us even harder to start one."

N.A.A.F.I's debut vinyl release was Chilean rapper Jamez Manuel’s Agua EP along with their ambitious 2014 triple-disc compilation TRIBAL, featuring three of the label's artists and a consistent output of music saw them gain traction.

With a razor-sharp visual style they began dropping meticulously designed merch consisting of t-shirts, slidders, hand-woven tote bags, umbrellas, towels even drug baggies.

Fausto interjects, "We were making money by doing lots and lots of parties; the merch and tours led to more money. Somehow, we were very organised from the beginning, and that money would go back into the label, and some would go into our pockets."

In four years, the label had garnered enough global fame to throw a three-day beach party in Puerto Escondido, ringing in the new year alongside international club collectives and allies like Night Slugs, Fade to Mind, Gaika and fans who came from all over the world to meet each other.

Among the staggering list of N.A.A.F.I’s collabs and accolades since then have been a six-month DJ residency at a contemporary art museum in Mexico City, vogue balls (one with US ballroom DJ MikeQ), they’ve been nominated for major design awards, even teamed up with infamous Mexican graffitero Zombra on politically charged sweatsuits.

At one point N.A.A.F.I. joked that they had attracted enough club kid visitors to the capital that the label could qualify as a tourism office and weighed up the idea of opening their own Airbnb. Digging into N.A.A.F.I’s 15-year catalogue and notable albums that made them blow up is no easy task.

Their bootleg mixtape series ‘Pirata’ of club-driven, brain-breaking pop mash-ups courtesy of N.A.A.F.I’s own Wasted Fates, OMAAR, Imaabs, Santa Muerte and Tygapaw chomping into Migos, Ricky Martin, Missy Elliott, Shakira, Future and Marfox is a fucking good place to start. Not to mention their 10-year anniversary compilation, which was accompanied by a 30-date global tour.

Or gagrantuan collaborative EPs such as British hip hop polymath GAIKA’s Seguridad EP on the label featuring various artists from the collective, including Tayhana, Omaar, Zutzut, Lao, Wasted Fates, and Debit.

When it comes to festivals, N.A.A.F.I have ignited masses to erupt into groove and torn apart stages prime slots at Coachella, Primavera Sound, Sonar, LATAM, EDC and many more.

From 2020-present they’ve injected a range of pulce-racing producers who dropped widely hyped, feverish debuts such as Manuka Honey, Tygapaw, DJ Juanny, Tatyana Jane, Lao, and more whilst shining a light on Mexican micro-genre tribal guarachero.

When pressed to disclose the secret to their 15-year label success Fausto answers, "The best lesson I've learnt is to really go after something and believe in it. You can participate in your passion; it's not that difficult, but you have to work hard, and if it's not moving, you have to know when to try something else."

"I was 23 when I started N.A.A.F.I. We had an office, but we didn't have shit to do - we CREATED shit to do. I would send emails to anybody, pitches to designers and music, and some would respond. If I wanted my passion to become my occupation I was going to treat it like one. I had to be the one to make it happen."

Alberto adds "Our biggest obstacle was accessing funds to do bigger projects. Our most ambitious move was being authentic."

"As Alberto said, for me, the most ambitious move; was N.A.A.F.I. itself. We are ambitious. We didn't believe in limits. It wasn't really ever about expanding for money but more about what the maximum we can take the label and this brand is and how far we can push this." Fausto beams, “The same went for our artists. We signed people who wanted to make music, not money.

“My proudest accomplishment is that N.A.A.F.I is recognised as a brand worldwide. The label has a catalogue, a "body of work" – both material and conceptual. But there is still a lot to be shared, shown, referenced and revisited." Alberto closes.

N.A.A.F.I’s future looks bright, but there are still obstacles standing in the way of electronic music and Mexico City's nightlife, mainly by the mafia, who are scaring off people and trying to control venues.

“That won’t last and we’ve survived this type of shit before.” Fausto concludes on a positive note: “At the moment, we’re taking it step by step. We’re no longer stubborn about having tight crew. Instead, we’re very focused on the label and continuing to release marginalised music and artists. We don’t want people who try to fit in and blend into the crowd because they are going to make boring music. We want music that is weird, has something to say, is not afraid and has a global sound.“