It’s midweek in Miami, and the skies are heavy with rain clouds when I meet Kinahau outside the Falls. The 22-year-old Mexican DJ and producer doesn’t seem fazed by the weather — if anything, he looks right at home in the gray. He’s in town to play the Terrace at Club Space for the first time, a dream gig for any young artist with aspirations in house music.
He greets me with a grin that’s half shy, half knowing. There’s something grounded about him — the kind of calm you only get from someone who’s been through chaos early.
“I actually came up with my name when I was, like, 11 or 12,” he tells me when I ask about the origins of Kinahau. “I saw this movie called Berlin Calling, Paul Kalkbrenner did the music and starred in it too. His character’s name was Ikarus, and I thought it was so cool. But then I realized, ‘I’m not Greek. I’m Mexican. I’m from Cancún, that’s Mayan territory.’”
He pauses, smiling at the memory. “So I started researching Mayan names and found one tied to a character who took care of poets, his name was Kinich. I played around with it and mixed it with that Ikarus idea. That’s how I got Kinahau.”
He laughs when I ask if he still likes the name. “Sometimes yes, sometimes no,” he admits. “People mispronounce it all the time or think it’s Asian. But overall, yeah, I like it. It stands out.”
Cancún, where he grew up, might sound like paradise, but musically, it wasn’t exactly fertile ground for a young DJ. “There isn’t really a music scene there,” he explains. “It’s more of a spring break scene, everything revolves around tourists, drunk Americans, open-format club music. You’d hear Lil Jon, Steve Aoki, Timmy Trumpet, that kind of sound. I wasn’t really influenced by it. I’ve always been the type to avoid outside influences.”
Still, it wasn’t the music that hooked him, it was the nightlife. “I started partying really young — like 12 or 13,” he says, smirking. “There’s actually a video of me, 13 years old, blackout drunk with shades on, dancing at a club. It kind of went viral locally.”
He bursts out laughing when I ask if his mom ever saw it. “Maybe,” he says, grinning. “By 14, I was already going to clubs regularly. I’d hustle my way in, talk to bouncers, make deals with promoters. I loved the logistics of nightlife, the energy, the chaos, the community of it. That’s what really shaped me. The nightlife came before the music. Eventually, I thought, how can I stay part of this world? That’s when DJing and producing came in.”
Music, though, had been bubbling under the surface long before his first club gig. “I’ve always been into instruments, piano, violin, guitar, percussion,” he says. “But I preferred experimenting over playing songs ‘right.’ I’d just jam on the piano, pressing keys and having fun.”
At 13, his mom bought him a piano. “There’s a video of me playing the first song I ever wrote at a recital,” he says proudly. “But when I was 15, we couldn’t afford lessons anymore, and the piano had to go.”
Not long after, he found FL Studio on his family computer. “Not even mine, the shared one,” he laughs. “I just started messing around, watching tutorials, trying to make beats. I had fun and kept doing it every day. That’s how it began.”
His early inspirations came from the same clubs he used to sneak into. “Dady’O and H Rooftop,” he says without hesitation. “Dady’O is iconic, it shut down after 30 years but recently reopened under a new name. And H Rooftop’s motto was ‘Cool Kids Only,’ which is so cheesy, but it was the spot. They’d shut it down all the time for letting in underage kids, including me.”
Later, his taste grew more refined. “Fabric in London, that place is incredible,” he adds, eyes widening.
These days, Kinahau is looking beyond Cancún and London. His latest single, “Under the Flower Pot,” is out on Crosstown Rebels — a huge milestone for a producer his age.
“The track came from a weird place,” he says. “I’d been living in Spain for two years, the longest I’d ever stayed anywhere. I’ve moved constantly since I was 10, so I was starting to feel stuck. I dropped everything and moved to Rome on a whim. Didn’t know anyone there, had an Airbnb for a month, no friends, no weed, no comfort zone.”
He laughs at the memory, but his tone softens. “I kind of freaked out, full-on panic attack in the middle of the street like, ‘What the hell did I just do?’ But in that isolation, I wrote some of my best music. ‘Under the Flower Pot’ came out of that period.”
The song features vocals from an artist named Luke, whom he found online. “I sent him the track, and he sent back a demo the next day,” Kinahau recalls. “The first time I heard it, I was like, holy shit. It just clicked.”
At first, he didn’t even think Crosstown Rebels would go for it. “That label is serious,” he says. “I thought maybe a pop label would make more sense. But I sent it to Damian Lazarus in December, and he replied saying he loved it and wanted to sign it. That was a surreal moment.”
He leans forward, almost reflective. “I actually told my mom years ago that my dream label was Crosstown Rebels. I said, ‘If I release on there, that means I’m really an artist now.’ So when Damian hit me back, it felt like proof I was on the right path. Not that I’d made it — but that I was moving in the direction I always wanted.”
At just 22, Kinahau carries himself with the calm of someone twice his age. Still, he admits the industry comes with pressure. “Not musically,” he clarifies. “I’ve always been true to myself, I don’t chase trends. Music should be fun. That’s the rule. If I’m having fun, I’m on the right path.”
He pauses, then adds, “The pressure comes from everything around the music — social media, bookings, money. It’s a lot to navigate at my age, but I do my best.”
Even in moments of burnout, he finds humor in the grind. “I’ve been watching Entourage lately,” he says with a laugh. “I love seeing the characters crash and stress out. It reminds me it’s all part of the process.”
And that process isn’t always glamorous. “Nightlife is full of drug addicts with power,” he says, shaking his head, half-joking but not entirely. “My mom’s a school professor; she’d lose it if she even smelled weed. So coming from that to this scene is crazy. You just have to stay grounded. The girls, the guest lists, it’s fun at first, but eventually you realize most people don’t care about you, just the access. You learn to move carefully.”
Before we wrap, I ask about his relationship with Michael Bibi, one of the biggest names in house music. His face lights up instantly.
“Bibi is a huge reason why I do this,” he says. “The first time I gave him my USB, I was obsessed with his sound. I thought, ‘This seems simple, just a kick, clap, hi-hat, bassline, I can do that.’ But when I tried, I couldn’t. There’s this magic in simplicity that only experience gives you. That’s what drew me to him. Eventually, that connection changed everything for me.”
As the skies start to clear, we finish our coffees and wrap up. Kinahau’s about to step into one of the biggest moments of his young career, his debut on the Space Terrace. For him, it’s not just another gig. It’s a full-circle moment for a kid who once hustled his way into clubs before he could even drive.
“Everything I’ve done has come from curiosity,” he says as he stands up. “That’s what keeps me moving. As long as I’m having fun, I know I’m where I’m supposed to be.”
Laidlaw and Kinahau at Floyd. 11 p.m. Friday, October 31, at Floyd Miami, 34 NE 11th St., Miami;.floydmiami.com. Tickets are $20 via dice.fm