Chris Lake Talks Honesty in DJ Culture and His New Single

Image Cred: Corey Wilson

Chris Lake’s Savana feels like the kind of record that cuts through the noise. It’s the third single from his upcoming album Chemistry, and it hits with the stripped-down confidence of a producer who knows exactly what he wants to say. After years of festival headlining, viral IDs, and headline-grabbing collaborations, Lake is stepping into a phase of his career where the music speaks first.

What makes Savana stand out is how direct it is.

Built for the dance floor but sharp enough to hold up anywhere, it bridges the same line Lake has been walking his entire career—club records with undeniable impact that don’t lose their edge in the process. It’s a track that’s already proven itself on the road, from surprise B2B sets with FISHER in Sydney to his own sold-out Brooklyn shows.

In this feature, Lake opens up and shares his top tips about the mindset behind Chemistry, the pressures of DJ culture today, and what it really takes to stay connected to the music. His advice is as straightforward as his production: no shortcuts, no posturing—just an artist talking about what keeps him locked in.

When you think about who DJ culture is really for—who comes to mind?

It’s for people who actually care about the music. Whether you’re producing, playing records, or just dancing in the crowd, it’s for the ones who put something real into it. The ones who stay curious, who dig for records, who want to feel connected through sound.

Has that answer changed for you over the years, as the scene has evolved?

A little. The scene is louder now, more commercialized, more visible. But the heart of it is still there. The people who care haven’t gone anywhere. Working on Chemistry reminded me of that. I made it for people who are really listening, not just scanning through clips.

Do you feel like you’ve always fit into this culture, or did you have to carve out your own place?

I definitely had to carve out my own space. I’ve never felt like I fit into one category. I come from underground roots, but I’ve always had an ear for melody and emotion too. It took a while to stop worrying about where I fit and just focus on what felt right. Chemistry is probably the clearest example of that. It’s a mix of everything I’ve picked up along the way.

What do you think this culture asks of people who want to be part of it—either as DJs or as dancers?

It asks for honesty. If you’re playing music, know why you’re playing it. If you’re showing up to dance, bring the right energy. Respect the people around you and the space you’re in. That’s how the culture stays alive.

Are there any unspoken rules or pressures that you think new DJs might not see at first?

Yeah, for sure. There’s this pressure now to always be seen. It’s not just about playing music, it’s about how it looks online. That can pull people away from developing their sound. With this album, I took a step back from all of that. I funded it myself, worked in-studio with almost everyone, and focused on the music. No shortcuts. I think that’s the mindset that lasts.

Have you ever had to step back and ask yourself if this scene still reflects the values that made you fall in love with it?

Plenty of times. Especially watching how fast things move now. But I’ve also seen how powerful it can be when artists are vulnerable and real with their work. That’s what kept me going with Chemistry. I wanted to make something that would pull people in on a deeper level, even if it didn’t follow the usual playbook.

What’s one thing you think we all owe to the spaces we play in—and the people who show up?

Respect. Whether it’s a packed festival or a small club, it’s about showing up with intention. Respect the crowd, the sound system, the people running the venue. Some of my favorite nights have been in smaller rooms with no phones out, just people locked in. That’s what makes it special.