Your stage name, MARRØN, holds a powerful fragment of your identity: a reference to the Maroons of Suriname, descendants of escaped slaves who still live according to the values of their African roots. Have you ever had the chance to truly encounter the Maroon community, even if just for a moment, to experience their daily life? What has been your personal relationship with this country? And what role did your family — your parents, their stories, their experiences — play in helping you feel both the weight and the beauty of that heritage?

The Maroons of Surinam are heroes to me. I thank them for the fight they have brought which contributed to the free life I am able to live as a black man today. They have inspired me with their cultural tradition that are the closest thing we have from our history leading back to Africa which most of us have to dig deep for to find back where we come from (which we will never find out completely). The fast rhythms of the created with the Apintie drum, the dances, the strong African aligned tribe approach of life until this day is something i admire very much. My mother is surinamese (mostly creole, small percentage indigenous) and my father is (half dutch, half surinamese (mostly creole, small percentage chinese) which makes me a mixture of all. My time to go to Surinam with my great uncles and grandpa and they will take me to the ‘binnenland’ which is the primeval forest in Surinam to take me to this part of history in flesh and blood. It is no secret the maroons are having a tough time in Surinam and that their struggle is still present until this day. I have been actively studying the history over the years and also found ways to help the community by donating for projects such as funding for school boats so children can go to several schools in the city. With my stage name as MARRØN I chose to tell their history story through my podcast series where each mix is telling a piece of history and showing the world the beauty of their strength.

In your NDYUKA #15 podcast titled Tranga Uma, you dedicated the mix to women,  especially your Black sisters, celebrating their strength and resilience. As you highlight,  the power of women manifests in many forms, and this time you chose a more  emotional and introspective approach, far from typical dancefloor energy. In light of the  recent UK Supreme Court ruling excluding trans women from the Equal Opportunities  Act, what is your vision on inclusivity and the recognition of female power in all its forms?  Do you believe music and culture can help redefine and expand the understanding of  what it means to be a woman today?

My belief is that it’s important to speak up for inequality. To stand with our women whether cis or trans we as men need to show and speak up for equality if that’s what we want. The problem of today’s world is that everyone claims to be on the good side of history but is not willing to try to make a change by making themselves heard.

The Ø in MARRØN is much more than a graphic sign: it’s a declaration of autonomy, almost a way to rewrite your destiny outside of imposed narratives. It becomes a symbol of rupture, of emancipation, but also of continuity with a legacy you don’t want to forget. But if we look back, where did this gesture truly come from? How has all of this — your family history, your parents’ stories, your connection to this culture of resistance and spirituality — shaped your identity?

I have chosen to not represent the MARRON as it is truly written because i had to make this my own. A black techno artist who tries to tell a story inspired by the great maroons for their visible shown power and culture but i can’t and do not want to claim the full name as i did not go through what they went through personally. I am saying this in a way where it could almost be cultural inappropriate if i did but ofcourse that is not the case. For me it was just important to make this my own story where I present music in my own way INSPIRED by the strength on consistency of the people and where I can also educate myself and others about their true history in all positive ways.

In 2016, together with four other people, you founded Eerste Communie, a series of events that began in Amsterdam and quickly expanded to cities like London, Munich, Berlin, Tbilisi, and New York. Who are the other people involved in the project and what roles do they play today? In what ways has each of you contributed to shaping this vision?

Eerste Communie as of now exist out of Gils Weerwind, Diederick Hoogerwaard and myself. Isabelle Ho-Kang-You has decided to pursue her dreams into other projects she’s working on but she has been an absolute big factor of our team and still is. Gils and myself are basically running everything and Diederick is keeping us sharp and grounded as a silent partner. We discuss alot together and make decisions together as a team. Which sometimes leads to long discussions but always end up what is best for Eerste Communie. As we all have our tasks we find it important to trust each other in our decision making but also have every stand behind the moves that we make.

You’ve given a deep meaning to the name Eerste Communie, linking it to the Catholic First Communion while reinterpreting it in a personal way — as the first encounter of a community gathered around a distinct sound. In a context where most major events focus on Fridays and Saturdays, what’s your view on the lack of Sunday events? And how does your project bring new meaning to a day often overlooked by the music scene?

It started with an idea of creating something on Sunday which would feel holy for people. Something they could go to and have a feeling that when they leave their heart would feel full of happiness and good energy. Music that would present a sound of joy, togetherness and inclusiveness of likeminded people. Over the years the Sunday in Amsterdam has became the most famous day to party. I think we definitely contributed in that alongside some other events like Orphic. I think with our project we’ve created a trust value where people know that when they come for EC they know one thing, they will dance their asses off.

One distinctive element of your event is the decision to keep the line-up secret, not announcing artists in advance. This shifts the focus to the music quality itself rather than big names. This philosophy recalls the concept of Fold (which I absolutely love!), the infamous London club known for its focus on quality and musical authenticity. How do you manage the creation of the timetable and the artist selection, ensuring each set flows harmoniously with the next, highlighting both established names and emerging talents? How has this approach helped you build a loyal audience, and how do you envision the future of an event that rejects headliners in favor of a more authentic and dynamic musical proposal?

It is very hard to get to the point where the crowd fully trust you with the selection. It took us years to gain that trust but now that we’re here, it’s even 10 times harder to keep that trust and to stay refreshing but consistent at the same time. We always have had the belief that good music is what drives this concept. A soundsytem that compliments our sound and a timetable that flows throughout the day like it was one big track where people are lost of who played when. It was just Eerste Communie this is all they need to remember for the day. This all is built with staying true to our own beliefs and being consistent with it. Not focussing on what works and what the hype is for the moment but always look and feel what your own needs are looking from a dance floor perspective. being on the dance floor has made us who we are today and shaped me personally as an artist and Gils now as promoter/artist agent.

Amsterdam is globally known for its tolerant image, especially regarding recreational weed use. At the same time, many clubs are forced to adopt zero-tolerance drug policies, often under pressure from authorities. What’s your take on this paradox? How do you perceive the relationship between substance use and the music scene, and in what direction do you think the approach — from institutions, venues, and artists alike — should evolve, perhaps focusing more on harm reduction rather than criminalization?

This is a very good question. With traveling and playing in so many different cities and different scenes you also see very diverse ways of usage overall. I am not a fan of criminalizing drugs but where to draw the line? I think what Amsterdam does well is that there many recourses websites that allows you to educate yourself about the drugs that you use or about to use, which allows especially our youth to look into that and not have a feeling they are doing something they will be doomed for automatically. Education about drug use is very important because this will most likely avoid harmful incidents. Apart from this I find it very important that people who use drugs or alcohol are aware of the people around them. When you pass out or you are way too drunk, you are negatively effecting the dance floor and you become irreliable for everyone around you. This something you should always try to avoid no matter what substance.

Being one of the first four Dutch players to compete in the Olympics is something no one can ever take away from you — even if that longed-for medal didn’t come. Have you ever experienced a disappointment in your music career comparable to that? Or has music offered you a different kind of redemption? Today, as a role model for many young people — first on the court, now in clubs — what do you truly miss about basketball, and what do you carry with you every time you step behind the decks?

I haven’t actually. The difference is between basketball and dj’ing is that I do everything alone now. My own vision and structure i can manage in to my music so I get to perform 100% of my work. With basketball that’s a different situation, working in a team you need to fit in the best way you can help the team win. With this team mentality I definitely gained a lot of good from basketball. Working within Eerste Communie as a team but also being happy for other artists to grow. I see our residents of EC’s growth equally important as that of mine. Seeing them shine makes me shine and to have this ease of mindset brings me major joy in what I do today. To inspire and be inspired by others but never shying away from my own musical beliefs because I trust what i do 100%.

It’s impossible not to mention your now iconic podcast series published on SoundCloud since 2019: NDYUKA. A name that carries a powerful legacy — a symbol of identity, memory, and resistance, but also of diaspora, rootedness, and Afro-descendant pride. Each episode is tied to a cultural element from your ancestors’ heritage, giving voice to an imagination that continues to deeply inspire you. Translating that mindset into your music — playing with groove and soul, but also strength and intensity — seems like a natural, almost necessary act. How was the NDYUKA series born?

The NDYŪKÅ series was born out of my own dance floor perspective. Everything I do musically now is out of thought what I was missing. Most of the podcasts I would hear online were sets played by great artists who wanted to show a bit of a different side of themselves (rightfully so). This is a very nice way to do so ofcourse but i personally always wanted to hear club music, a mix that made me feel like I was in the club when I close my eyes. A consistency of techno that allows me to get energized and driven pure by listening. This is how i came up with NDYŪKÅ podcast series. A serie where I would align my musical approach with a piece of history of my heritage. A different feel to every mix but still the energy you would expect from MARRØN.

With NDYUKA, you don’t just offer a listening experience — you guide the listener  through a genuine journey of discovery, where sound and knowledge intertwine deeply.  Episodes like OKANISI MOIWANA, SARAMAKA RHYTHM, KAWINA-LIBA MOENGO, or  GAAN-LO GAAMA, AWASA APINTIE go beyond music, conveying stories, values, and  symbols that evoke your ancestors’ culture. How meaningful is it for you to preserve and  transmit this memory through music? Do you believe music, in this context, can serve  as a powerful educational tool, awakening consciousness and bringing forgotten stories  back to light?

This is very important to me. I believe in storytelling, this can be done in diverse ways and is always subjective ofcourse. For me storytelling is making a mix sound like it’s one big story. A set where you get lost in the music but also feel driven by the energy it gives. A physical touch of music and that comes with the piece of history I get to tell about the culture of our ancestors.