Taste is a funny thing—it’s not innate, not something you can pinpoint or measure, yet it feels like the one skill everyone respects but no one can fully explain.
Pete Tong, the legendary BBC Radio 1 DJ, seems to have cracked some code on taste, but not in an obvious way. I’ve never seen him live, yet I’ve listened to him DJ for countless hours (mostly thumping my head while focusing on work). Two of his sets I was recently listening to – a 2013 BBC Radio One mix and a 2017 Ibiza set – despite being mixed years apart, somehow sound fresh and familiar. They’re layered, textured, full of punchy vocals and chord progressions you think you know until you realize you don’t. And these aren’t new sets—they should sound dated, but they don’t. That’s the thing about taste: it’s not about playing what’s trendy or even what’s nostalgic; it’s about creating a connection that feels timeless.
Tong’s rise wasn’t an accident—it was an alchemy of skill, timing, and relentless curiosity. He started as a DJ in the 1980s, carving his sound in sweaty, electric UK clubs where a single set could either detonate the night or suck all the oxygen from the room (or so I’ve heard since I was born in the 90s). He mastered the art of ignition. But Tong wasn’t just spinning records; he was decoding them, a promoter-turned-journalist-turned-scientist with a microscope, breaking music apart to find the pieces that could redefine what came next. By the time he took over Essential Selection on BBC Radio 1, Tong wasn’t just tracking the zeitgeist—he was shaping it. A track spun by Pete Tong wasn’t just a co-sign; it was canon. He didn’t ride trends; he invented them. That’s the beauty of true tastemakers—they always seem a step ahead, as if they’re seeing the future through a kaleidoscope of the present, blending fragments of sound and style into something that feels inevitable only once they’ve shown you how to look or listen to it.
Tong never got stuck in one moment. The taste isn’t static. He could’ve coasted on his reputation, but instead, he kept adapting. From vinyl to digital, from radio to streaming, he stayed curious, which is harder than it sounds. Most people don’t want to learn something new once they’re good at what they do, but Tong kept exploring, kept elevating others, building a platform not just for himself but for the artists he believed in. His sets are sublime because they’re not just about what sounds good—they’re about what feels inevitable, as if he’s always two steps ahead, showing us the music we didn’t know we needed until the moment it hits.
unpublished alpha 