Wild sound

Unlimited skiing, the harmony of Agoria 

Agoria has made the Chamonix valley his home. He slips his skis between his records and comes to share intense sensations between sets in the mountains during the Unlimited festival and skiing among the glaciers with friends from the valley. Chamonix, the Mont Blanc massif, and its sonic and oblique explorations evolve and become woven into the fabric of life, creating stories of attachment, pleasure, and good music. Meet a lover of mountains, skiing, and the festival.

You’ve played more Unlimited editions than almost anyone. What keeps bringing you back?

Because Unlimited never feels like a gig. It feels like a ritual.

Each edition is a reminder that electronic music can still be about context — not just sound systems or lineups. You’re not invited to perform at the mountain, you’re invited to perform with it. That changes everything.

I also feel the places where we play have evolved a lot over the years. Venues like La Folie Douce or Le Cat Club have truly become real clubs at night. The conditions keep improving, and it allows the music to breathe differently.

From Aiguille du Midi (3842m) to Skyway Monte Bianco — which venue left the deepest mark on you, and why?

Aiguille du Midi was almost metaphysical. You’re suspended between rock, ice, and sky… there’s nowhere to hide.

Skyway Monte Bianco, on the other hand, felt more fluid, more cinematic — like moving through layers of altitude, permanently suspended.

All these shows were mind-blowing.

But if I had to choose today, it wouldn’t be a venue.

It would be a spot where Candide Thovex is performing with me. Anywhere… as long as I can somehow manage to go where he goes — which is the real challenge (laughs).

Playing electronic music in places like these isn’t “normal”. What changes for you as an artist at that altitude?

Ego disappears.

You stop thinking in terms of performance and start thinking in terms of presence. At that altitude, silence is loud. The music doesn’t dominate — it converses.

It reminds you how insignificant we are, and how fragile our ecosystem is. You play differently when the landscape itself feels alive and vulnerable.

Unlimited feels like family now — what does that word mean to you here?

With Jose, I’ve been involved in the ethical and artistic guidance of Nuits Sonores for more than a decade. I met him when he wasn’t even an adult yet — that’s almost 30 years of friendship.

He’s a true electronic music lover, far beyond hype. The only thing he loves more than electronic music is skiing 🙂

With Rouxie, they push me hard every year to become a decent skier (laughs). Now we share these moments with our families and kids.

That’s why Unlimited is not just a ritual for me — it’s a lived story.

You’ve followed us to some extreme places… is there one you still dream of?

Yes. Over the past few years, I’ve also started developing art exhibitions.

I can imagine one inside a vast stalactite cave — a cavernous, mineral space where sound, light, and geology merge, with respect and meaning.

It’s been growing in our minds over the years. Now we just need to raise the funds to make it real.

Off the decks: you’re becoming a serious skier — what does the mountain give you that music doesn’t?

Thanks to Jose and Sammy! I’m getting there, but I’m still a real amateur. Now that I’ve met Candide Thovex, I have no more excuses. After speaking with him, you immediately see the dedication and the insane amount of work required to reach that level of precision.

I’ve always been very curious, and I love meeting new personalities. I feel we have a lot to learn from these encounters in the mountains. It may sound cliché, but there’s something deeply authentic up there. The mountain is king.

Last year in Tignes we were having lunch at the panoramic with Clément Bouvier, and we were unable to come down to my show because of sudden weather conditions. That says it all.

I’m constantly on the move with my shows and my art — physically, but also mentally. Skiing is a necessary break from what can sometimes feel like a senseless race for emotional doses.

Up there, you let it go.

You let it snow

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