Guti returns to Crosstown Rebels with You Know Ya Miss Me, his first release on Damian Lazarus’ label since 2020, and the four-track EP picks up a relationship that now runs well past the fifteen-year mark. Across the release, he leans into the qualities that have defined his work for years: live-minded construction, Latin rhythmic language, improvisation, and a studio process that leaves room for movement inside the arrangement.
That approach has long set his records apart, and it remains central here as the EP moves through groove-led house structures with a sense of feel and control that comes from experience rather than excess.
That wider sense of identity also comes through in how Guti talks about music itself.
He still holds close the physical side of collecting, from opening a record in the mail to reading the credits and sitting with the details, and that habit of close listening says a lot about the way his work is built. At the same time, he uses streaming with purpose, going deep into catalogs, chasing obscure cuts, and reconnecting with artists through focused listening instead of passive scrolling. You can hear the same mentality throughout this EP, where the tracks feel loose in spirit yet carefully shaped in execution.
The title track opens with rhythmic detail and measured interplay. “What You Give” carries the looseness of a jam while staying locked to the floor, “The Truth” pushes percussion and vocal presence further forward, and “La Nueva Onda Latina” closes the project with a direct nod to the Latin current that continues to run through his output. Taken together, the EP feels grounded in habit, craft, and instinct, with each track giving space to groove, texture, and musical conversation.
It is a focused return from an artist whose language still feels tied to touch, tension, and movement.
Interview With Guti
How do you think about the difference between owning music and accessing it instantly through streaming platforms?
There’s something deeply physical about owning music, opening a record that arrives in the mail, going to a shop, and digging through the unknown. Touching the vinyl, smelling it, reading every detail in the booklet, I remember being a kid and noticing things like, “Oh, that guy plays maracas on track eight!”
That romantic connection between artist and listener has changed a lot. At the same time, technology has made discovery easier than ever for listeners and artists. So while something was lost in terms of ritual, something else was gained in accessibility and reach.
Has streaming changed how you build or maintain your library?
I still keep things very old school. I have an ever-growing collection in my studio, and a separate jazz collection at home. At the same time, my partner is fully digital, and I love it when she shows me music she discovers on streaming services; it’s often completely outside what I normally listen to. It’s refreshing and opens new doors.
But my instinct is still to dive deep into an artist’s catalog, get obsessed, and eventually own the records that really connect with me.
What helps you ensure your crates reflect deliberate curation rather than turn-and-burn levels of convenience?
I mostly play my own music, so every record I keep is something I truly connect with.
I also make a point of visiting record shops when I travel. It’s one of my favorite rituals, being alone in a new city, digging through crates, discovering something unexpected. That process has introduced me to incredible artists I would have never found through algorithms or digital channels.
When so much music is being released and hitting your inbox each week, how do you preserve music that defines your identity?
I’m blessed and cursed in that I mostly play my own music, so I live a bit inside a bubble.
I don’t have a huge external influence from what’s trending, aside from tracks my friends send me, and luckily, many of them are some of the best producers in the world. I also rarely listen to dance music during the week unless I’m making it. That distance helps me keep things fresh and stay connected to my own identity.
Has ease-of-access influenced how you commit to certain records over time or fall in love with them?
There are certain records that stay with you forever, regardless of the format. I hear them on vinyl or streaming, and they still give me the same feeling every time. Tracks like Floorplan – Never Grow Old (Re-Plant) or Afefe Iku – Mirror Dance, I’ve probably heard them thousands of times, and they still feel like masterpieces.
So for me, the emotional connection doesn’t change with access. Great music remains great.
What practices help you stay intentionally connected to your music in a streaming-first workflow?
I’m a very curious and obsessive listener, so I actually enjoy how deep I can go on streaming platforms.
I use them to explore new artists, find obscure tracks, and even rediscover forgotten music from my favorite producers. Sometimes I even come across my own records and reconnect with them in a new way. It’s about using the tools consciously, going deep rather than skimming the surface.
Will Vance is a professional music producer who has been involved in the industry for the better part of a decade and has been the managing editor at Magnetic Magazine since mid-2022. In that time period, he has published thousands of articles on music production, industry think pieces and educational articles about the music industry. Over the last decade as a professional music producer, Will Vance has also ran multiple successful and highly respected record labels in the industry, including Where The Heart Is Records as well as having launched a new label with a focus on community through Magnetic Magazine. When not running these labels or producing his own music, Vance is likely writing for other top industry sites like Waves or the Hyperbits Masterclass or working on his upcoming book on mindfulness in music production. On the rare chance he's not thinking about music production, he's probably running a game of Dungeons and Dragons with his friends which he has been the dungeon master for for many years.
