One night in April back in 2011, Roman Flügel was behind the decks at Horst Krzbrg, a now-defunct Berlin club. Standing over six feet tall, he was relaxed, moving from side to side while adjusting his headphones with one hand. Headlining a party for Live At Robert Johnson, the label arm of his home club, he spun some of the deepest and most hypnotic music you're likely to hear during a night out, moving through subtle deep house and delicate techno with smooth transitions and a steady pace. As the stuttering bassline of " Pattern 16 ," one of the more abstract tracks in his massive catalogue, bounced around the pitch-black room, dancers swayed with their eyes closed, hands by their sides. Brighter tracks, like " How To Spread Lies ," released a few months earlier, offered the occasional flash of light, but the set was mainly sparse and heady.Six years later, you're more likely to catch Flügel spinning in a big room or a festival, making it less likely to hear him play as deep as he did that night in Berlin. But the psychedelic touch remains, delivered through a keen ear for melody and technical skills honed throughout a career that stretches back more than two decades. A product of Frankfurt's fertile scene, he's known for his role in the pioneering labels Playhouse and Ongaku Musik, operations that helped define underground club sounds in the '90s. Understated with subtle flecks of melody, Flügel's style behind the decks is similar to the music in his catalogue. It's a style that requires patience and a deep knowledge of music, as clashing melodies or sounds can yank listeners from their trance.A few weeks before the release of hismix, I dialled up Flügel for a chat about his approach to DJing. Looking back at his time as a young clubber hitting the pivotal Dorian Gray club and afterhours parties in Offenbach, he shared his insights into the craft, including his shift to bigger rooms. He also touched on the benefits of CDJs and the importance of melody, while offering his thoughts on the role of the DJ in general.Before house music showed up, Frankfurt was very much associated with new wave and EBM. There was a big scene of new wave heads who dived into the electronic aspect of that sound, which I think played a major role. Even early on at Dorian Gray, those people only showed up in the morning, like between 4 and 5 AM. Before that it was like a disco hangout—you know, people dressed up for a beautiful night. But in the morning these people dressed in black with strange haircuts showed up and the music became very repetitive and electronic.I wanted to be a DJ before I knew about electronic music, because I saw hip-hop coming from the US in the early '80s. I was 11 or 12 years old, and suddenly I saw documentaries about breakdancing, hip-hop and graffiti on TV. I noticed this guy with two turntables making weird noises—scratching—and I was totally fascinated. I gave it a try on my cheap record player at home and it didn't work at all. But those pictures—the guys using turntables as an instrument—were really important. It took some time until I found out how to mix, and then I did a mixtape. I remember making the mixtape with a friend when I was 12 or 13 years old. He had a little mixer, one record player and a cassette tape. That's how we created our first DJ mix—but with no beatmatching, obviously.Around '87 and '88. We went out a lot back then—two or three nights, every week. Me and my friends finished high school and had money to spend and a lot of spare time, so that's how we all got into it. Record shopping was an important part. We bought records but Technics turntables were already very expensive. So we threw parties in our hometowns and then rented equipment. We learnt how to mix at those events.I left Darmstadt in the mid-'90s and moved to Offenbach. There was a small scene going on with Zip and Perlon—they all came from Offenbach. Rent was also cheap. Offenbach used to be a very industrial area, so there were spots you could meet and play music. There was one venue in particular called the Fahrrad Halle [Bicycle Hall], where many people went on Sundays for afterhours.The good thing about those parties is that they can go through different phases of sounds. There are a few masters who do this really well, like Sven [Väth]. When he plays longer sets, there's a point where the energy goes down and it becomes very trippy. Then suddenly you have a certain track that brings back all the energy and tells you something new is coming. You can get lost in the afterhours sound, but it becomes special when you go through the different stages. That's something you only witness when you stay longer.I don't know.Not on purpose, but it's the kind of the music I like. Maybe some of my experiences are connected to that. I like those sounds and atmospheres.That's exactly what I like about music.They make music memorable. I love melodies that touch you emotionally. It's nice to get lost in the rhythm, but then when the melody appears, it's something you can't compare.I don't think so, because there have been times when I played, I wouldn't say negative, but the darker side of electronic music. The last couple of years have been more fun, so it's good for me to have a generally more positive vibe. I'm not trying to put people in depression.You can only play these tracks if you don't play a string of them for the whole two hours. You have to balance it out. Sometimes I play a rough track—maybe a drum beat with hardly any notes or melodies—and then a beautiful, for example, Fort Romeau track appears. People really appreciate that. If I would only play melodies the whole evening, or just drum tracks, it would never work.If you dig deep into the history of house music, you learn about its foundations. Then you discover how to push certain buttons by playing certain tracks. I know of many people who can play disco a lot better than me, and who know much more than me, so why should I try that? I'd rather stick with what I know and really feel, rather than pretending to educate. That's not my idea of DJing.I wouldn't blame anyone, but DJing is different now compared to how it started. When it was brand new, it was all about playing the latest tracks and going to the shop to find the latest records. Now if you're a young DJ, you can go through playlists, find the right compilations and read the right articles, and you'd probably end up with house music's 50 most important tracks. But that doesn't mean you're a good DJ. Take a look at soul music and rare groove, for example. There are certain DJs playing 7-inches all night long with the most hidden gems in their collections, but there are tracks that are played again and again. At least that's what I've heard. And people freak out—which is fair enough—but I always hoped this wouldn't happen with house music. I think it should be developing all the time.