“Reinvention is part of the process. And touring helps — I’m constantly exposed to new cultures, clubs, sounds. That inspires me to find new ways to tell stories in my sets.”
His honesty about the emotional whiplash of sudden success is disarming and refreshingly unfiltered. Many artists shy away from admitting how jarring the shift from a quiet, creative life to public-facing fame can be, but Pegassi leans into that discomfort. He doesn’t pretend it’s all smooth or glamorous; instead, he reflects on it with maturity, admitting insecurity while still choosing growth. There’s something deeply human about his ability to hold space for both the chaos and the gratitude — he’s not romanticizing the grind, but he’s not bitter about it either. He just seems real.
It’s clear that Pegassi isn’t chasing hype — he’s chasing depth. He talks about purpose, about building a long-term career based on music that moves him, not music that simply performs well. That clarity of intention gi- ves his words weight. It’s easy to get lost in an industry built on constant noise, but Pegassi seems to have found a way to stay anchored — through nature,
through his
inner circle, and through trusting his instincts rather than trends. That’s not only admirable; it’s essential for longevity.
FROM SOUNDCLOUD TO SENSATION: PEGASSI’S €50 LEAP OF FAITH
Some careers begin in studios, others on stages. Pegassi’s began with a €50 bet and a gut feeling.
“When I put out ‘No Type,’ it did okay on SoundCloud,” he recalls.
“I was broke, still working a day job. I found this guy on TikTok who made meme-style videos with dance tracks. I asked him, ‘What would it cost for a video?’ He said €50. I stressed all day, talked to my friends — they thought I was crazy. After a few drinks, I just sent it.”
He fell asleep, unsure. By the next morning, the video had 500,000 views. That one moment — impulsive, hopeful, slightly desperate — kicked everything into motion.
“I quit my job. That’s when I felt like an artist. No more office rules. I went all-in,” Pegassi says. From that point, his rise has been unstoppable — viral tracks, international bookings, a set at Paradise City Festival so wild the stage almost collapsed from the crowd.
It’s the kind of origin story that feels both cinematic and authentic — a reminder that sometimes, all it takes is one instinctive leap. For Pegassi, it wasn’t just about virality — it was about betting on himself. And the payo- ff? Still unfolding, louder and larger than ever.
THE BELGIAN BEDROCK: PEGASSI’S GLOBAL RISE WITH LOCAL SOUL
Pegassi’s explosive sets may now echo
across the globe, but his foundations are unmistakably Belgian.
“It started when I was around 12,” he says. “Jumpstyle was massive in Belgium, but I was too young to go to clubs like Complex. My brother went out a lot, so I heard it through him. That was my first intro to harder styles.”
Later, a school screening of The Sound of Belgium lit the fuse.
“I had no idea how rich our music history was. I’ve seen that doc four times now — and met most of the people in it. It’s amazing.”
His sold-out Sweet Nothing night at the iconic Fuse club wasn’t just another boo- king — it was a full-circle moment, bringing his journey home to the heart of Brussels nightlife.
“Playing our own Sweet Nothing night at Fuse — and selling it out — felt like a full-circle moment.”
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