In Conversation with DJ Esco-bar

Nottingham has a habit of keeping its best things to itself. Ask anyone from the East Midlands who runs their dancefloors and the answer comes back before the question is finished: Esco-bar. The Juggling Barse. Mr Eastside. Three names for a selector who can carry a room from R&B into UKG into dancehall without anyone catching the joins.

King of the Decks at the Reyac Awards 2025. Guest mixes for Seani B on 1Xtra. Stages in Jamaica, Malta, Greece, Portugal. Before any of that, a kid rarely seen without a microphone in his hand, waiting for his turn on his father's sound system. We sat down with him to talk about the names he answers to, and how a kid from a front room in Nottingham built a career out of never leaving.

Juggling comes from Jamaican sound clash culture, not club DJing. When you take a word like that into a festival set in Malta, what actually travels with it, and what gets lost in translation?

What travels with it is my style, my energy, and the way I present my set to the crowd. Juggling comes from Jamaican sound clash and dancehall culture, but in the UK it's also become terminology that some of us use to describe the way DJs mix, moving quickly from riddim to riddim while keeping the energy high in the room.

For example, if I'm playing at a club event with multiple cultures, someone might come up after and say, "Your set was crazy, mad jugglings tonight, my bro."

One of the yardies might say, "Escobar, you bun a mad fire," or, "Yo, you can juggle, yute, you bad. Big set." When I take that style to a festival in a place like Malta, the language might change, but the feeling is the same. Someone might say, "Sick set, Esco-bar. The way you kept dropping banger after banger was crazy," or, "Your quick mixing style is mad, bro. Big up." So, for me, nothing is really lost. The word comes from my culture and carries history, but the energy behind it is universal. Different crowds might describe it differently, but the feeling is the same.

You've got two names besides your government one, Esco-bar and Mr Eastside. Who's Mr Eastside, and when does he show up that Esco-bar doesn't?

Esco-bar is me. I show up everywhere, at every booking. Mr Eastside shows up everywhere too for sure, but I feel like it means even more when I'm playing abroad or on the bigger stages.

When I'm rubbing shoulders with the UK's biggest DJs and playing to different crowds, I'm definitely representing the East Midlands. When you're booked at these massive events, nationally and internationally, other DJs, whether they admit it or not, want to know, "How come this guy's here? What's he doing here? Why's he booked?" Mr Eastside answers those questions by shutting it down every time, letting them know I'm that guy from my region, and that would be the East Midlands, Nottingham.

The story goes you were rarely seen without a microphone as a baby. Whose story is that? Who tells it at family gatherings, and what do they say you were doing with it?

I'd say my uncles and my dad. My uncle will tell me that anytime the sound was turned on, I'd be in the room straight away, asking to help turn it on, grabbing the mic, just touching stuff, whether that be the turntable or an equaliser. I just wanted to get involved. My dad will say how I'd memorise lyrics off his tapes and try to mimic them over the music he'd play.

Your dad's sound system, does he still have it? And has he ever watched you play and told you something you didn't want to hear?

Yeah, my dad has the whole sound system, equalisers, turntables, speakers, amps, the lot. He also has a huge record collection: 45s and LPs, aka 7-inch and 12-inch. My dad has watched me play before. He watched me at Reggae Gold in Brum, which has more of a mature crowd. I think he was very surprised that I use a lot of the music I request from him, it's not just collecting dust in my crates.

I'm definitely happy to say I made him proud, as he's one of my biggest supporters. I think the only thing my dad has told me that I didn't want to hear at the time was the truth about where my career was heading. It was during the COVID pandemic, and he basically told me that if I didn't stay relevant throughout the lockdown and keep up with the times, with online streaming and stuff, then I could easily be forgotten and once the pandemic was over, I shouldn't be surprised if everything changed for me.

I thank him massively for this, along with a mate of mine DJ Ddot, who told me the same thing first. He said that with the way I was popping at the time, the city would love it and promoters would be watching. My dad then took action and cleared his whole front room for me, making it my own personal live-streaming studio. All I can say is it paid off 100%.

"Crowd control" is a funny phrase. What's the moment in a night when you know you've lost a room, and what's your first move to get it back?

I'd like to say I've never lost a room completely.

In the early days of my career I would sometimes turn up bang on time for my set, and a lot of the stuff I'd play would have already been played. This can quickly teach you as a DJ that that's one of the worst things you can do. Nobody wants to hear tunes repeated. That would probably lose them, and it takes work to get them back. Nowadays, losing a crowd is not an option.

I always turn up at least an hour before my set time. My biggest tools, before my hands touch the decks, are my eyes and ears. I listen to what's being played and see what the crowd is reacting to and not reacting to. I need to analyse the people who are already there and how busy it's getting.

Everyone talks about reading a crowd. Nobody talks about ignoring one. When's the last time you played something you knew the room didn't want yet, and made them want it anyway?

I would say towards the end of 2023 I was getting bored of playing the same songs in certain cities because they're not as up to date as other cities when it comes to new music.

So I decided that when I returned to those cities, I would mix in a lot more current music. I could tell they didn't know a lot of the songs, but one of my main skills is hosting my sets, so I used this to interact and let them know, "Tonight we're going to get used to some new music. We're not playing the same old, same old." They quickly started to engage, and it was a whole vibe. This has paid off for me because now when I go to those cities, I can play different music.

Halo Event Servicing what did running that end of events teach you about why nights actually fail?

Working with Hayley and the rest of the ladies has taught me a lot from a different perspective. One of the biggest lessons for me is that preparation is everything. You need to have your notes ready and be able to manage stock and money well, along with having a good attitude and people skills. If your team isn't strong in these areas, it can play a part in an event failing.

Bar staff are the first people customers, mainly the ladies, speak to if something isn't right, i.e. "What time is it going to get busy?" "Is the music going to be like this all night?" "What time's Esco-bar going to be on?" lol.

You learn to read the crowd, and if the DJs aren't doing what they need to do, the complaints usually come to the bar first. Security is another huge part of it. We provide security as well as bar staff, and after working a few events, you learn to see issues before they even become issues. To sum it up, what I've learned is that successful nights happen when everyone works well together: the promoter, venue manager, DJs, security, and the Halo bar team.

There's a version of your career where you left Nottingham for London years ago. Was that loyalty, strategy, or some other reason?

If I had to pick one of the above, it would be strategy because I'm already loyal to the East Midlands.

I represent it everywhere I go. I am Mr Eastside. Everyone says "Eastside" because of me. Having said that, nothing could stop me from doing what's best for my career, but in my eyes it's not about London not asking properly. I have played in London a few times now, but it has to make sense for me. Truth be told, London has amazing talent, but from what I know, I think it's oversaturated. Most of the top DJs from London, who I play alongside regularly love the Midlands. The Midlands is where it's at. Ravers love to go to London for big events, but the DJs want to get booked in the Midlands.

What's a record you've retired? One that always worked, that you refuse to play anymore, and why?

Fantasia – When I See You. Always a banger. The ladies sing both verses and the bridge. I have definitely rinsed it, so I've left it alone for a bit. Maybe I might start playing it again next year, lol. But it's timeless music, so if I don't play it, another DJ will, I'm sure. It's always going to be there.

We love Fantasia but hear you on this. Right, being called the East Midlands' favourite DJ is a crown and a ceiling at the same time. Do you ever hear "regional" inside that compliment, and what would national look like for you specifically?

 I don't see it as a ceiling at all.

If anything, it's a reflection of where I'm from, not where I'm limited to. The top DJs from the Midlands know me as the guy from the East Midlands, and that's something I'm proud of. My supporters do too. When I play in other cities, people call me "Mr Eastside," but they also call me their favourite DJ and one of the best in the Midlands. I've built strong support in places like Manchester, Birmingham, where I was crowned King of the Decks 2025, Huddersfield, and several other cities.

To me, that's already national because my audience isn't just in Nottingham. If you check my stats over the last 2-3 years, Nottingham, my hometown, is actually the city I've spent the least amount of time DJing in.

It's not about national or international for me, it's about playing where it's loved and being selective about where I play. Every enquiry isn't a yes. I want to be in the right cities and countries, at the right events, that make sense for me and my brand. Right now, I believe I'm on the right path, and I'm just going to keep my foot on the gas.

What I want people to leave with is the feeling that they've just experienced something special.

For the people who didn't know me before or had never seen me play, I want them walking away thinking, "He's top tier." I want them to be looking up my socials, checking out my mixes, and asking, "Where's he playing next?" because they can't wait to hear me again. And for the people who already know who I am, I want them to leave thinking, "Yep, he's done it again. Every time."