We sit down with Harry Lemon to talk about his breakthrough track Model 8, his residency at Nighttown in Rotterdam, working at the same record shop as Tiesto, his legendary Inner Sanctuary Sessions mix album, and his iconic Bedrock release ‘Lose Control’.
Originally aired April 22, 2022. Transcribed by Juan Aristizabal.
Super Progressive (00:00): What’s up everyone? Welcome back to another episode of Super Progressive. I am so stoked for this upcoming interview because if you talk to longtime fans of underground music who really know their stuff, our guest is one of the most respected DJs and producers in the underground. And today we are joined by Harry Lemon. How are you doing, man? Thank you so much for joining us today.
Harry Lemon (00:31): William. Thanks for inviting me and I’m really looking forward to this talk.
Super Progressive (00:36): Yeah, it’s going to be great. How we got connected was through a couple of our followers. They were requesting an interview with you, and you have an upcoming set on Saturday with the guys I consider my Jedi masters in progressive house music history: Jay Dobie, Wasim Afzal and Marcus Stubbs from Progressive House Classics. You’re going to be doing a live stream for them on your Twitch account. Are you stoked for the show?
Harry Lemon (01:11): Absolutely. Playing vinyl isn’t something you do every day anymore, so I always feel a bit nervous—but in a good way. It creates this tension. Then there’s the question of what I’m going to play. During the pandemic, especially at the start, I did quite a few classic streams on Twitch. I only had one turntable at first and had to borrow another from my friend Deacon Cross. That led to ten episodes, each two to three hours of classics. Now, for this weekend, I’ll dive back into my records to keep things fresh.
Super Progressive (02:09): Definitely. Here’s the flyer, and one question I have for you that I think you’ll have a good perspective on because you stream on Twitch often: Do you feel streaming offers a unique way to connect with your audience? Obviously, live streams can’t fully replicate the energy of a club or the feedback from a dance floor. But does the interactive element of streams—like real-time comments, viewers engaging with each other, and repeat viewers returning—provide a different kind of connection?
Harry Lemon (02:57): Yeah, absolutely. When I started streaming, all I wanted to do was play music. I happened to have a camera, so I thought, “Why not use it?” At first, I was streaming on Facebook, but eventually, I moved to Twitch. Initially, I streamed weekly; now, I do it once a month.
It became a way to stay sane during everything that was happening in the pandemic. The streams turned into a gathering where we could forget about the world for a while. I made it clear that the focus was purely on music, fun, hope, and looking forward to better days. It evolved into that space for me and my audience.
The interaction in the chat room felt a lot like playing live. People’s reactions in the chat to the music and the visuals I added created an incredible energy.
I also wanted the streams to be entertaining because, at that time, there wasn’t much else available. With clubs and movie theaters closed, people needed something to look forward to. For me, streaming filled that void. Personally, I hadn’t found TV interesting for over a decade, so streaming felt like the perfect way to bring uplifting energy into people’s lives.
I always ended my streams by saying, “Stay sane.” I chose those words intentionally because I believed mental well-being was the most important thing during such challenging times.
The experience of streaming was similar to playing live gigs—it was exhilarating but also exhausting. I would start preparing as early as Tuesday, working on playlists, visuals, and camera setups. The streams themselves were intense, and after they ended, I had to clean everything up to reset my space for production work.
You might notice some green behind me from my green screen. I got creative with my setup to make the streams feel like a complete entertainment experience, not just a DJ playing music. I’m incredibly grateful to everyone who kept tuning in and made the streams such a memorable and rewarding journey. (Check out Lemon8`s youtube channel, where he also shares his brilliant live sets and so much more gold content here.)
Super Progressive (06:08): I had a similar experience during the pandemic. That was when I joined the Progressive House Classics Facebook group. It was eye-opening, not just because of the music shared but because of the passion the members had for it.
It reminded me of the early days of the internet when forums like the Global Underground message boards brought the community together to talk about music and the scene. Even though we don’t have those forums anymore, groups like Progressive House Classics are doing a great job of keeping that spirit alive.
Harry Lemon (07:22): Yeah, I realized that the Progressive House Classics group on Facebook really became the successor to the Global Underground Forum. If you ask people in the group—which now has about 13,000 members—I think many of them would say, “Yeah, I was there on the forums.” Especially for progressive house music, there’s always been this dedicated fanbase, and that passion is still very evident today.
It’s a really nice group. I remember when I returned to social media after being away for a while, they welcomed me with open arms, and I’m so grateful for that. What’s funny is that many people in the group don’t realize there are producers and DJs—possibly even their heroes—in the group. So, when someone posts a track I’ve worked on, and I give it a like or say thank you, the reactions are often like, “Oh my God, he’s here!” Then someone else might chime in, “Well, Harry is here every day.” It’s fun, and it’s such a nice community.
Super Progressive (09:30): Progressive music is global, but they’ve built this intimate community where it’s not just music fans—it’s DJs, producers, and anyone passionate about the genre. Speaking of passion, I’m so excited about your upcoming set! Now, let’s dive into your career. A great starting point would be your release of Model Eight. I did some research last night, and it’s fascinating. This was one of your earliest tracks, and I noticed on Discogs that it came out in four different colors. What inspired you to release those different versions, and what were your artistic intentions with this track?
Harry Lemon (10:40): Well, it was actually my second release but the first one I fully produced myself. My first release, Touch Somebody, was created in another studio because I didn’t yet have the equipment to make music. I worked on it with a hardcore producer who liked what I came up with. I eventually handed it over to someone I admired— the resident DJ of Nighttown (a big club at the time) and the head of Basic Beat, which later became Basic Energy. He listened to it and decided to release it.
Model Eight came after that. I made it in just one night—both sides of the record. Initially, it was meant to be a remix for Ians the Navigator. After I finished it with samples, the owner of Seesaw Records didn’t contact me for four months, so I decided to release it myself. I removed the samples, and that’s how Model Eight was born. I also made the Lemon8 Remix, which became the most popular version. I created it as a track to play at Nighttown in my own techno basement. At the time, I played it from a cassette tape just to see if I could get away with it and it ended up gaining traction. The colorful pressings were a happy accident—the factory in Belgium where they were pressed had different vinyl colors available. The first pressing was red, and later versions included clear white, marble, and, of course, standard black. The marble pressing is particularly nice.
A few years later, when Richie Hawtin played at Nighttown, he brought out all the Model Eight colors he’d collected. It was such a cool moment, and he gave me a huge compliment. He told me, “Harry, what you did with Model Eight is what I tried to do with Spastik.” At the time, I wasn’t familiar with Spastik, but hearing that was such an honor.
Super Progressive (14:34): That’s such a cool story. One thing I’m curious about—so I understand the function of the track. It’s like, you’re in the club, DJing, and you think, “I need this track for this specific moment.” Conceptually, you’re fitting it all together. But when it came to the sound of the record, who were some of the producers that influenced you?
Harry Lemon (15:02): At the time, when I played my techno basement night at Nighttown, the hot tracks were things like Spastik, Robert Armani’s Circus Bells, Ambulance, and Big, Big Drums. With Model Eight, I was trying to capture the essence of the night—almost like creating a soundtrack for my club. That’s what I wanted to do: make something fun, play it, and see how it worked. I’m still really proud of it.
Here’s a funny story: When I was a kid, maybe seven or eight years old, I remember lying in bed crying one night. My mom came to check on me, asking, “What’s wrong? Did you have a bad dream?” And I told her, “No, I’m just so scared that when I grow up, all the music in the world will have already been made.” I was genuinely worried I wouldn’t be able to think of any new tunes because everything would already exist!
Super Progressive (16:30): That’s some serious existential pressure for a seven- or eight-year-old!
Harry Lemon (16:33): Right? Totally normal stuff to worry about. Years later, when house music emerged, it was a revelation for me. I realized I could make music without melodies—something raw, almost non-musical. House music was made by people who weren’t necessarily musicians, and neither was I. So, when I created Model Eight, I thought, “I’ve done it! I’ve made something without a melody.” It felt almost ugly in a musical sense but still worked as house or techno—or whatever you’d call it.
At the same time, I made another track called Lemon Funk, which came out on my own label, Rise and Shine Records. That track was full of sunshine and happiness because I started out as a funk and disco DJ in the ’80s. I had this urge to create both types of music, and both tracks ended up being released within months of each other.
By that point, I felt like I’d achieved my goal: I’d made a record, actually two, and I could rest and focus on other things. It was such a surreal moment. Growing up with records from my heroes, and then suddenly holding my own record—it was incredible. I’d sit there, sniffing it, feeling it, touching it, just taking it all in. That’s how I felt about Model Eight. I finally made something that wasn’t traditionally musical, but it still felt good.
Super Progressive (18:31): That’s an awesome story! What strikes me most is how different the experience of making music on vinyl was back then compared to today. Vinyl wasn’t just a medium—it was the medium, and that shaped how music was created and consumed.
Back then, getting a record pressed was such a journey. You had to meet high standards at every step—from the record label to the distributor, to the record shop, and finally, to the buyer. It’s so different now, with producers uploading tracks straight to streaming platforms for everyone to hear. That dynamic really changes the relationship with the music, and I think it’s part of why people feel so nostalgic for that era.
Harry Lemon (19:50): Yeah, I think the best thing about vinyl is that it’s tangible. You can touch it, and it’s a physical object. When you look at it, you can see the breaks and identify the busy parts. You can even recognize music by the grooves. But it’s also something you truly own. Of course, CDs are the same in that sense; they’re physical objects too, and that’s a big difference. At that time, music had to go through A&R and label managers. But before house music blew up in ’88, ’87, the music business was mostly controlled by major labels. Then, small independent labels emerged, giving people the ability to press their own records. That was a huge shift – you didn’t have to go through Sony or CBS anymore to get your music out there. But you still had to make the music first. Back then, it wasn’t as simple as having a laptop to make anything you wanted. You needed gear – synthesizers, drum machines, keyboards, and a recorder, like a digital audio tape recorder. And you had to buy expensive monitors.
Now, it’s so much easier and cheaper; anyone can make music. I wouldn’t say today is worse than back then because even at that time, when we were digging through records in the shop, we’d think, How can anyone press this? It’s awful! So it’s not perfect today either. But the music back then was less widespread. It was presented to you by the people who bought the records in the shop. You had limited options – if you wanted one of 10 titles, you had to order it and wait a week, two weeks, or sometimes months for a repress. Occasionally, you’d just be unlucky and it wouldn’t get repressed. That’s a big difference between then and now.
Super Progressive (22:48): When I think of the early ‘90s underground culture, there are two key aspects of a local scene that fascinate me. One is the record shop – this was like the community space, where producers, clubbers, and DJs would come together to share information and stories. That’s where all the conversations happened. The other aspect is the DJ residency. This is where that community would go and experience the music at the same clubs, with a handful of the same DJs leading the way. I think this balance created strong scenes around the world. I’m really curious about your residency at Night Town. Did you have one regular night, or different nights with different vibes? What was your schedule like as a resident DJ?
Harry Lemon (24:05): Before I started at Night Town, I threw my own parties. I’d invite well-known DJs from big clubs like Nighttime to play at mine, hoping it would be a way to get noticed. It was pretty much the only chance they’d hear you. But one night at Nighttime, while I was close to the DJ booth, I got a tap on my shoulder, and someone asked, Do you want to be a resident DJ here? I don’t think I’ve ever danced so hard in my life – it felt like a dream come true!
When I first started, it was just a trial to see if I could hold the dance floor. It’s a big club with a lot of people. After a few tests, I was given my own Friday night, and I also substituted for Saturday nights. Eventually, I got my own Saturday night in the basement, which was being built at the time. We had a techno basement on Saturdays, and Thursdays were also packed with techno. Sometimes I played Sundays as well. There were weeks when I played Thursday through Sunday, every night for 6, 7, or 8 hours. I just left my records behind the curtain, so I never took them home. By the time I got my records back, I’d find a few more cases added.
Super Progressive (26:15): Really cool. What was it like to DJ in that environment? It sounds like you had guests coming through, but mostly it was you DJing for your crowd. Can you talk a bit about the connection you formed with a regular dance floor made up of the same people each week? I love it when parties create that intimate atmosphere. I enjoy going to clubs in whatever city I’m living in – whether it’s New York, Chicago, or LA – and finding those spots where you run into familiar faces and build relationships centered around the music.
Harry Lemon (26:59): Yeah, you definitely built a relationship with the people who came. Of course, at that time, there were only three DJs at Nighttime, so we rotated. People had their favorites, but it was never about one DJ being better than another. We were really a team. But the best thing about being a resident DJ back then was that you could connect with the audience. You couldn’t play the same thing every week, so you had to be creative and inventive because you were playing for at least six hours each night. What was amazing was that you could also create your own club hits. If you had a record that you loved and knew it was going to be big, you could play it two or three times a night and close with it too.
As I was also selling records in the record shop, I knew the next day everyone would come in asking for that track. That’s how a club hit was born. It became connected with you, but also with the club itself. People still come up to me today and say, Oh, I remember when you played this, and then you played that, and after that you played this. That’s the connection you build with the crowd – they grow with you. You really become one group of people. And especially in the early days of house music, it felt like it was you against the world because the mainstream didn’t understand it.
Super Progressive (29:02): Wow. That reminds me of everything I’ve learned about what makes a good DJ residency. It’s just like what Danny Tenaglia has shared with me about his time at Vinyl, where the dance floor becomes one big family. I love how you said that. It’s that shared experience – remembering when something happened, or reacting together to a new track dropping. Those memories stick with you throughout your friendships because it’s such a local thing. And I also love how you mentioned the record shop as a key part of it all. The record shop is another pillar of the local underground scene that I was talking about earlier. You’d mentioned in our prep meeting yesterday that, in addition to DJing, you worked at the record shop, and that’s where the scene really operated.
Harry Lemon (30:10): Yeah, the record shop was really the center of DJ culture. The best part was that you’d meet everyone there – colleagues from other clubs, DJs visiting Nighttime, or even DJs from other cities. People from different genres would drop by, too, so you’d meet funk and hip-hop DJs as well. It was a real melting pot, and it was always fascinating to see what records people were buying. It really was the hub of DJ life back then for a long time.
Super Progressive (31:35): I was doing some research, and I have to say, you’re a very good writer. I noticed you express yourself well through writing – whether it’s on your social media or in your amazing blogs. I love how you articulate your passion for music and share your experiences with your fans. Would it be alright if I read something you wrote?
Harry Lemon (32:02): Sure, I’d love to hear it again too.
Super Progressive (32:04): I think this really ties together the club and the record shop. It’s fascinating. “You need to learn, but you go to Nighttime, where it all began for me. When you’d walk through the entrance, you could already hear the heavy thumping of the new sound called house music. To the left, down the hallway, was a room for funk and grooves provided by local DJ hero DJ Eric Dens. Walking straight ahead, you had a choice: techno downstairs in the basement, deliberately kept dark with enough volume to make you move without dancing, or you’d open the door to the main hall, which could fit 1200+ punters moving to house music. The sound was so heavy and dense that the turntables had to be attached to the ceiling with chains. The SLS had elastic bands connected to detached floating platforms. It was almost impossible for any guest DJ to play here. Same thing downstairs in the basement. Thursday nights in the basement were legendary. I invited an unknown DJ, Tto, who worked with me side by side at the record store to come and play. He was shy, and he mixed his whole set with his headphones on because it was nearly impossible to hear the monitors due to the room’s volume. Armand Van Helden was a regular there too, though he confessed to me years later that he was too young to be there. But I’m glad he did.”
It’s amazing to hear this – the way the local scene was so rooted in the community, and the talent that came from it.
Harry Lemon (32:35): Yes.
Super Progressive (32:36): Awesome. Walking straight ahead, you had a choice. The techno downstairs in the basement was deliberately kept dark, with enough volume to make you move without actually dancing. Or, you’d open the door to the main hall, which could hold 1200+ people all grooving to house music. The sound was so heavy and dense that the turntables had to be suspended from the ceiling with chains. The SLS had elastic bands connected to floating platforms. It was almost impossible for any guest DJ to play here. The same went for the basement. Thursday nights in the basement were legendary. I invited an unknown DJ, tto, who worked alongside me at the record store, and he came to play. He was shy and didn’t even look up at the crowd, mixing the whole set with his headphones on since it was nearly impossible to hear the monitors due to the volume. Armand was also a regular there. He later confessed to me that he was too young at the time, but I’m so glad he did it. It’s amazing to think how local this scene was and the talent it produced. It’s truly incredible.
Harry Lemon (34:01): Yeah, everything starts as a local scene, which is why it’s so important to be connected with people, even if they don’t necessarily represent your own style or musical preferences. Tso, for example, first worked at a different record shop in the City, which I’m sure TSO fans know very well. Later, he joined the Basic Beat record store, and that’s him on the left. And Eric Den is on the other side. He passed away three years ago, sadly. He was my best friend for a long time. He played funk, grooves, rare grooves, all that slow stuff. That was during the time of the Basic Beat record store. We were side by side, the three of us, every weekend, mostly Fridays and Saturdays. We had so much fun. Later, I had my Bandung label, and Armin asked me to join forces with him and Markus Schulz to start a label and DJ at Armadag. Armin later told me that he was just a 16-year-old kid checking records in front of me. That was interesting to hear.
Super Progressive (36:27): Yeah, that’s definitely interesting. I mean, that picture you shared was incredible. Thanks so much for posting it. I think a lot of people are going to enjoy seeing it. Now, for the progressive heads, there’s a mix album I learned about that you did, one of the most beloved in the history of mixed compilation albums, and that’s Inner Sanctuary Sessions. What stood out to me about this mix compared to others like Global Underground and Renaissance is that you produced or remixed every single track in the mix. It’s you as a producer and DJ—the total package. Was it intentional to use only your own productions and remixes, or did this come about more as a creative outlet for your music?
Harry Lemon (37:47): No, it wasn’t intentional. I was just very productive at the time. So, when all these tracks were finished, I thought, “I might as well make a compilation out of it.” It felt like a concept album. I didn’t even promote it as all made by me—it was just Inner Sanctuary Sessions on the cover.
Super Progressive (38:17): I don’t mean to cut you off, but when I saw the tracklisting on the back of the album, I thought, “Wow, he really went for it.” The tracks are listed with the original producer’s name, and then “Inner Sanctuary Mix” in parentheses. I thought that was a super cool, classy touch.
Harry Lemon (38:38): I never really thought about that. But yeah, it was just very free-flowing. I had these tracks, so I thought, “Let’s do something with them.” We had a nice photo session, put my face on the cover, and sent it out into the world. I started Inner Sanctuary Sessions as a six-part 12-inch series. By the time I reached number four with New York, New York, which was licensed to Bedrock, I thought, “Well, I’m done.” So, numbers five and six never came out. If you look at the 12-inch, you’ll see 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, but I crossed out five and six. And then I got all these remixes. After all those years of music production, I finally found a sound I really liked. They called it progressive, but I didn’t care what they called it. It was just the sound of that time. What I liked about progressive at the time was that you could do anything. It wasn’t about melodies—it was about blending all the best parts of dance music: tribal, breaks, techno… New York, New York was a Bedrock release, but Carl Cox also wanted to release it on his label. If it had come out on his label, I’d probably be known as a techno guy. People and the press label you, you don’t label yourself. But after all the remixes, there were still tracks left out on the album due to time constraints. A CD only has 74 minutes per side, so I had to cut a few.
Super Progressive (41:14): Another thing I noticed is that many of the mixes have the same name: Inner Sanctuary Mix. Was this to identify them as part of the series, or was there another reason?
Harry Lemon (41:35): At first, it was a personal thing—Inner Sanctuary was something from within me. But it also became a recognizable sound, and that’s why I stuck with it. Sometimes you just stick to a name because it sounds nice. To me, it had meaning, so I thought, “Why not?” It wasn’t always used—there were a lot of “Lemonade Remixes” and “Heavy Lemon Remixes,” but also a lot of “Inner Sanctuary Remixes.” So, it became a sound in its own right.
Super Progressive (42:25): It’s interesting that you say Inner Sanctuary had a personal connection for you because, to me, progressive music has this emotional quality. When you’re on the dance floor, with the right DJ and sound system, the response often feels almost spiritual. There’s something deeply internal about the way the music connects with people. You strike me as someone who, when it comes to your approach as a professional musician, places the music first. How do you balance that with the pressures of the ever-changing trends in music and the commercial demands of the industry?
Harry Lemon (43:36): I don’t know. My intention was never to be a musician or someone who makes records. I’ve always been a DJ, so the dance floor is always my focus. If there’s a nice melody, fine, I have those tracks too. But to me, it’s spiritual. Playing music, producing—it’s all about creating something from nothing. You start with nothing, and suddenly you’ve created something that gets sent out into the world. Whether people like it or not, it’s done, and then it’s onto the next thing. I’ve always seen myself as a DJ who happens to be good at making tunes, but I never call myself a musician. Maybe that’s because of that story I told you earlier. I always say I make variations on a four-to-the-floor beat, and if people like it, great.
When I was with Armada, I had my own label there and also toured with Armin. Armin has a different sound—it’s trance, melodic, faster. It never quite felt right for me. I started noticing I was making music to fit trends. There’s nothing wrong with trends, but it took me away from the sound I really wanted to make. If I had followed the trends, I’d probably have been commercially more successful. But if it doesn’t feel right, I don’t do it. I don’t need to make music. If I go six months or a year without producing, I’m fine with that. Sometimes I’m super productive, sometimes I’m not. There’s life and other things, and I like a lot of different stuff. Music has never been something I felt I had to do. I did, at the beginning, because it served a purpose, like getting noticed. But to me, it’s a very spiritual thing—almost shamanistic.
Super Progressive (47:18): As the world begins to open up and DJ gigs are happening again, I see you have an incredible gig coming up with Anthony Papa, one of my all-time favorite DJs. It’s great to hear. Now that you’re able to get back into the clubs and the underground scene is coming back to life after the pandemic, are you feeling inspired in any new ways right now?
Harry Lemon (47:47): Yeah, absolutely. Like I told you, I’m a DJ, and I really miss playing when I can’t. It doesn’t matter where it is, I just love being able to play. Dublin has been something we’ve been looking forward to for two years now. It was postponed twice, but now with many of the people from our stream and chat group coming from places like Spain and beyond, it’s going to be amazing. There’s a bar in Dublin called The Hairy Lemon.
Super Progressive (48:37): No way!
Harry Lemon (48:38): Yeah! So we decided to meet there for a meet-and-greet before the gig.
Super Progressive (48:46): Oh, that’s amazing!
Harry Lemon (48:47): I really wish I could go there the day before the gig. I told them I’d grow a beard for the occasion, but that’s probably a lie because I can’t grow one. Maybe I’ll get a leprechaun-style fake beard or something!
Super Progressive (49:04): Haha, that’s so funny.
Harry Lemon (49:06): Yeah, it’s a small venue, but that’s what I like about it. I’m not even thinking about playing right now; it’s more about meeting all these great people. I’m so excited for it.
Super Progressive (49:30): I’m so stoked for you. That sounds like such a special experience. The meet-and-greet at The Hairy Lemon is hilarious! It’s so fun.
Something that didn’t even come up in our conversation yesterday really highlights how new I am to this world of Progressive House. I always remind myself that I was just two years old when some of this music was coming out—I was literally born the year Model 8 was released. Wait, it was 1993, right? Yeah, 1993. I was born in 1994. But we didn’t even talk about your release on Bedrock, Lose Control, which I discovered during my research. It was even voted the best Bedrock release ever! And I’m like, how did you not bring it up? You’re such a modest guy. I had to mention it. I was listening to it last night, and it’s absolutely incredible. To me, Bedrock is the pinnacle of everything. Was it as amazing for you when you saw it get that distinction, or was it just an amazing time when that record was playing on dance floors?
Harry Lemon (51:03): At that time, Bedrock was already the pinnacle, so everyone in Progressive House wanted to be on it. John Digweed heard the track and asked, “Can I release this?” Then I did another remix, which became the most popular version, with more of those withheld beats.
Super Progressive (51:35): What’s the name of that version, just so I know?
Harry Lemon (51:38): I’m not sure, actually. Maybe it’s the In the Sanctuary Mix. I think that’s what it’s called. The other version was used in a movie with someone named Paul… he passed away years ago. I’ll remember it in a bit. But yeah, there was a poll in 2019, or maybe 2020, just before everything went crazy. I saw the results, and I thought Heaven Sent would win, but then when the votes were counted, Lose Control was way ahead of everything. Paul Woolford came second, and Heaven Sent was second or third. When I met Nick Muir last year at the Amsterdam Dance Event, I told him, “We’ve got the number one and two best Bedrock records of all time,” and I said, “I’m number one, Nick.” And he was like, “Oh yeah, well, the thing is, if you do a poll next week or next year, it’ll be a completely different list.” I get that, but still, I’m going to proudly wear that crown. I hope they don’t do another poll for the next 20 years so I can keep bragging about it!
Super Progressive (54:12): Yeah, that’s awesome! When you reflect on your career from today, I know this might be difficult for DJs who perform so much in so many amazing places, but are there any club nights or travel memories that really stand out to you?
Harry Lemon (54:44): Yeah, it’s a mix of big and small moments. For example, when I played at Ministry of Sound in Taipei, they welcomed me with a box of lemons with the number 8 on it.
Super Progressive (54:59): That’s amazing!
Harry Lemon (55:01): I’ll never forget that. I brought a few lemons home—not the whole box, of course—but those little things stick with you. I also had some great gigs in Istanbul, and there was one open-air event that was a last-minute booking. They said, “Do you want to play? It’s in about nine days.” I said, “Okay!” They started promoting it all over the city, and Istanbul is huge—over 17 million people. I arrived at the venue, which was an open-air amphitheater, and when I started playing, there were 3,000 people there. The first rows were all girls, and they started throwing their clothes at me, which was very funny. You never forget things like that. Progressive was huge at that time, especially in places like Istanbul. I heard that when Armen played there the next week, they only sold ten tickets—can you imagine? It’s crazy when you think about it now.
There have been so many great gigs, like when I played near the pyramids in Egypt and then two days later in Hollywood. Both are mythical places in their own right. The Hollywood sign is iconic, but being near the lit-up pyramids was something else entirely. And then there was the club in Jakarta, a great venue that was open 24/7. They told me, “If you see the lights turn on, don’t worry—it’s just part of the routine. What they do is bring out the dead…” I’ll never forget that experience.
Super Progressive (58:18): “Died in the club.”
Harry Lemon (58:21): Yeah, oh my gosh. Yeah, they would take them outside. Yeah, crazy things. Yeah. So to me, this whole DJ thing, I’m always so grateful that people pay you to visit these places. I still can’t wrap my head around that.
Super Progressive (58:59): One thing that had me dying yesterday during our prep conversation was you went to Greece and were given a Greek name.
Harry Lemon (59:07): Yeah, I had many great gigs in Greece, especially in Thessaloniki. They were the best times. One of my friends told me, ‘Eddie, you have to marry a Greek girl, become Greek, and you belong here.’ I asked, ‘Well, who did you have in mind?’ But I did have a Greek girlfriend for a little while. She told me she got the evil eye, and we were from different regions, so it didn’t go well. But yeah, it was great fun. I did get a Greek name. When I was in Greece, people would ask, ‘Are you Harry Lemon?’ and I’d say, ‘No, I’m the chairman of Football Club SA,’ which is a real club there. But yeah, that was fun.
Super Progressive (01:00:27): Those stories are amazing, thank you so much for sharing them. Sometimes I forget that as a DJ, you see and experience a lot of insane stuff in club culture. It’s wild, really. I don’t have any more questions; we’ve been going for over an hour now, and I want to be considerate of your time. I’m in Los Angeles and I know the Progressive House classic set is going to be streamed at 5 or 6 PM CET. Let me check the flyer… I’m going to make sure I’m up for it, because this conversation has got me in the mood to listen to your music. It’s going to be a vinyl set at 7:00 PM CET. But yeah, thank you so much for coming on the show. This has been one of the funniest and most awesome interviews, especially that we could do it remotely. It was fantastic. I learned a lot, and I can’t wait to share this with everyone. They’re going to love it.
Harry Lemon (01:02:06): I usually don’t look back at my own interviews, but I’ll make an exception for this one.
Super Progressive (01:02:13): I appreciate that. We’ll get it out just before the set so everyone can watch, learn something, and get pumped for the set.
Harry Lemon (01:02:23): Yeah, it’s also the last stream before the Dublin Gate as well.
Super Progressive (01:02:33): Definitely. You’ll have some of your biggest fans there, I’m super stoked for you.
Harry Lemon (01:03:44): Thank you, William.
