After years spent quietly refining his sound through DJ sets and studio sessions, BAKKIS is stepping into a new chapter with the launch of Okada Records. The label arrives as a natural progression—less a rebrand, more a crystallisation of intent. Rooted in groove and guided by feel, Okada isn’t chasing trends; it’s a space for music that lives and breathes on its own terms.
With the first releases setting the tone for what’s to come, we caught up with BAKKIS to trace the path that led here: from early radio sessions and formative trips to Ibiza, to the instincts and experiences shaping his approach today.
What was your first real entry point into house music—not as a DJ or producer, but as a listener? Was there a specific track, night out, or moment that pulled you in?
My journey into house music actually started way back in 1990 when I hosted my own radio show every Saturday. I was just a kid, but it gave me early exposure to a lot of different sounds. One of the first house tracks that really stood out even before I started in radio was Big Fun by Inner City. It felt fresh, vibrant, something entirely new to me at the time. That was probably my first proper entry point, even if I didn’t fully realize it then.
It wasn’t until much later after my first trip to Ibiza in 2001 that everything really clicked. I had already listened to a lot of electronic music by then, but Ibiza was the moment I felt house music on a deeper level. The energy, the people, the atmosphere—it was a full-body experience. That trip solidified my love for proper house music and set me on the path I’m still on today.
Before the gigs and the releases, who were the artists or labels that shaped your understanding of what house music could be?
There were a few pivotal names that really shaped my early understanding of house music: Harry “Choo-Choo” Romero, Frankie Knuckles, Danny Tenaglia, Armand Van Helden, and Roger Sanchez. Each of them brought a distinct sound and energy that made me realize just how much emotion, groove, and personality house music could carry.
That said, I’ve always approached music more from a track-by-track perspective rather than specific artists or labels. But to name a few that had impact on my journey—it has to be labels like Defected, Subliminal, and Strictly Rhythm from the beginning. They consistently served up proper house tunes: raw, soulful, and timeless. Those releases helped shape my taste early on and showed me what great house music could be like.
How has your taste evolved over the years? Are there certain elements or moods you find yourself always drawn back to, no matter how much your sound shifts?
My taste has definitely evolved and to be honest, it’s always evolving. The more experiences I go through, the more people I meet, and the more sounds I’m exposed to, the more my musical palette expands. I fully embrace that process. I love discovering fresh music and challenging myself to explore new directions creatively, both as a DJ and in the studio.
That said, I still feel like I haven’t quite finalized my palette on a technical or skill level to express myself exactly how I want to—there’s always more to learn, and that’s exciting to me. But no matter where my sound goes, there are two elements I always come back to: a wicked groove or a beautiful melody. If a track has one of those, I’m all in. That balance between rhythm and emotion is what keeps me inspired and connected to the music.
Do you remember the first time you played one of your own tracks in a set? How did it feel hearing your music in that context for the first time?
Absolutely—I’ll never forget it. The track was Green Celery, and it was one of those nerve-racking but exciting moments where you’re putting something deeply personal out into the world without knowing how people will react. I remember cueing it up, blending it in, and just watching to see if the energy in the room would shift. And when it did—when people started moving, nodding, connecting with the groove—it was an amazing feeling.
There’s something incredibly powerful about hearing music on a proper sound system, surrounded by people. But when it’s your track, it hits differently. Especially when you get a strong crowd reaction—it’s this mix of pride, relief, and adrenaline. In that moment, it’s no longer just a project on your laptop—it becomes a shared experience. That first play gave me a huge boost of motivation. It really felt like the start of something real.
There’s a lot of patience in “Inna Fire”—a sense of restraint that gives it momentum. Is that something you’ve developed through playing longer sets, or does it come more from your production instincts?
It could be both, really. Playing longer sets has definitely taught me how to stretch moments to build tension without giving too much away too soon. You start to understand how to ride the energy in a room, and that instinct naturally carries over into the studio. You learn that sometimes less is more, and giving tracks space to breathe can make them hit even harder.
But with Inna Fire, the restraint came more from just vibing out. I was producing outside on a warm day, jamming on hardware, and not overthinking anything. The track unfolded naturally because I was simply enjoying the process. My number one rule in the studio is to follow the vibe, and whatever comes, comes. I try not to force a direction or chase any kind of formula.
I also love to experiment, and with Inna Fire I was really playing around with the MS-1, especially using the “bender” stick on it. That added some unexpected character and helped shape the sound in a way that felt raw and alive. The repetitive, almost electric guitar-like sound in the track? That’s straight from the MS-1. It was all about capturing a moment—and I think that’s what gives the track its character.
You’ve spent years playing other people’s records. How has that informed what you want from your own productions? Do you write with the club in mind, or is it more instinctive than that?
I’m definitely a free spirit in the studio. I’m not very analytical when I’m in that creative zone—I try to keep it instinctive and in the moment. Of course, I’m inspired and influenced by the music I play and listen to, but I never sit down with the goal of following someone else’s formula.
That’s probably why I love cooking but don’t enjoy baking as much—cooking is about feel, while baking requires exact measurements. I approach production the same way.
I rarely start a track thinking specifically about how it will work in a club. It’s more about capturing a vibe. That said, when I do land on something that would work on a dancefloor, I definitely start to visualize it—how it might feel in a set, what kind of moment it could create. But that comes later. The core of it is always instinctive.
Launching your own label is a big move—it’s a statement about what kind of music you stand for. When you think about Okada Records five years from now, what do you hope it’s known for?
I want Okada Records to stand for originality and feel. Not trend-chasing or chart-driven, but music with identity—something that represents who I am and what I believe in musically. Five years from now, I’d love for people to think, “If it’s coming out on Okada, it’s worth checking out.” That kind of trust in the label’s sound and spirit would mean a lot.
Whether it’s my own work or music from other artists, the focus will always be on tracks that feel honest—groovy, melodic, raw, or hypnotic—as long as they feel alive. I want Okada to be a space where creativity isn’t boxed in, where artists can take risks and still feel like they belong.

Does this release feel like a reset in any way? Or more of a natural continuation of what you’ve been building toward all along?
It definitely feels more like a continuation of what I’ve been building toward and at the same time, the beginning of a new chapter. It’s not about starting over, but about stepping deeper into who I am as an artist and now as a label owner.
I’m genuinely excited to see where this leads, but one thing’s for sure: I’m enjoying every bit of the journey so far. For me, it’s all about growing, exploring, and staying connected to the process. I really appreciate all the support I’ve received it means the
world. And as cheesy as it might sound, I feel incredibly privileged to be able to follow my dream.
Inna Fire is out now on Okada Records