PHÖÖN: Coming Home to House

For Juneteenth, three Black artists gather to talk community, origins, and the music that was ours all along. Ahead of a Rhythm of Resilience showcase at 620 Jones in San Francisco, RCA sits down with Romii and Chicago's Phöön.

The recording didn't catch the first take. It rarely does. But that's the point of the whole thing, really — you show up, you fumble a little, you keep going. "It's only gonna get better with practice, with doing it," says Romii, Oakland artist and RCA's right hand with the Rhythm of Resilience interview series. "We're using this opportunity to connect with other Black artists so that we don't feel so alone — so we can develop and help each other progress into this world of content together."

Juneteenth is the occasion, and it isn't incidental. "What better time to utilize a moment so we can connect and see where we struggle, see what we're good at, and just hold space for each other. That's what Juneteenth is about. It's the end of slavery. It's a time to mourn if we need to mourn, to voice our frustrations if we need to, and to celebrate the achievements we were able to make in the midst of all this oppression."

Then he lands the line that sets the tone for everything that follows: "At the end of the day, if you can't make mistakes with us, then you're gonna get crucified with everybody else."

The three voices in this conversation — RCA, his Rhythm of Resilience partner Romii, and Tyler, who makes and DJs house music as Phöön — will all share a lineup on June 19th at 620 Jones, a venue run by a Black woman, for a night built around Black house music. But before any of that, the tape is running, throats are cleared, and RCA gives his signature "Yay Yay" (shouts to Ice Cube) — Romii a hype-man ad-lib he can't quite land yet. "That's his trademark," he laughs. "You'll hear it next week for sure."

Two producers in a room that wasn't for them

RCA brought Phöön and Romii into this interview to chop it up. He met Phöön through Romii. With the friendship at the center of this, RCA asks how they both met — and, as these things often do, it started in a room where nobody looked like them.

"We were at the Neon Owl demo listening party," Romii remembers — one of those nights where everyone plays their tracks hoping to catch a label's ear. "This man seemed kinda dope and his track was fire. Let me see what's going on with him."

Phöön tells it the same way from his side. "Both Romii and I played tracks, and they were kinda good — mine was good, and I'm definitely a better producer than I was then, but Romii's joint was good. And I was like, yo, I feel like this dude's cool." What sealed it wasn't just the music. It was the math of the room. "There weren't that many Black people in there. Eddie was in there — shout out Black Panda, he's playing with us for Juneteenth too. But other than that, it was just us."

We're one of the few Black people in this industry, and we gotta really support each other and be there for each other.

So they did. Studio sessions, a friendship, a remix still sitting unfinished. "You can't go to the birthplace of house and not get some jack house," Romii says of the track the two are cooking up. "We gonna get it cracking."

An evolution, not an origin story

Phöön didn't grow up on this music. He grew up on hip-hop — Jersey, New York, the East Coast. Electronic music was, at most, a stray song on a playlist.

The door cracked open for him in Miami.

"I went with one of my homies for spring break, junior or sophomore year, and we went to Ultra. I don't even know what EDM is, but it seems like a cool vibe. I'd never been to a festival before." Carl Cox. Swedish House Mafia. Enough of a spark to send him digging. And digging is where it got interesting — because the deeper he went, the further back he had to go.

"That's when I started learning about Marshall Jefferson, Larry Levan, some of those guys, and how they're the pioneers of house music. It was created by Black people, bro. And I feel like that kind of gets lost in today's world. It's very important to know the history and honor that history."

It was created by Black people, bro — and I feel like that kind of gets lost in today's world.

New York gave him warehouse parties and "raw, intentional music." But it was San Francisco that made him a DJ. He learned to spin with a friend, ended up playing Dolores Park more or less by accident, met people, and somehow that turned into clubs. "Here I am making music, playing almost every weekend. I wouldn't trade it for anything."

Now he's in Chicago — the place where it all started. "Every time you go out, you meet real, genuine people," he says. "San Francisco's great, don't get me wrong, I love it. But Chicago has that history, man. You can see it in the culture, in the dance floor. Black people, white people, Hispanic people, all types of life out here just having a good time. That's really what community is all about." He's less sure about the winters. "I might have to go to Florida, bro. I don't know if I'm ready for that."

Making it for the floor

RCA asks Phöön how the history shaped his own sound and he goes straight to the groove. "The origins of house were always based on the groove — from the drums to the kick to that whole atmosphere of the track and what it can create in dance spaces. Any type of music I'm making, I make it for the dance floor."

His references sit right where you'd expect: Kaytranada for range and creativity, Marshall Jefferson and Frankie Knuckles for the foundation. His own material has drifted faster and grittier over time, but he keeps something soulful underneath it on purpose. And he's allergic to the contradictory advice producers get handed constantly — make it for the club and the casual listener, follow the rules but be unique.

The only way you go is do what feels right to you. It's your music. It doesn't matter if 10,000 people listen or 10 people listen. Take pride in that.

Romii arrives at the same floor from a completely different hallway. He came up a musician first — a violinist, from age three, processing "a lot of trauma and death growing up" through composition in A minor, the key of sorrow. He learned to pour feeling into performance, to articulate a time period through the instrument the way Renaissance players once articulated the Black Death. Electronic music became another way to tell that story. "Being a violinist is way harder than being a DJ," he says. And there's a lineage in it he can't ignore: house and techno out of Chicago and Detroit, and he was born in Detroit. His organizing, his activism, the darker edges of his sound — it all folds together.

What strikes RCA is how little the three of them share in their music pursuits and how much they still land in the same place. "Our reasonings are so different, but they all kind of stem from a specific thing we learned about the music, plus what we brought into that moment. That's what turned into our expression. That's what this art shit is — putting it out there, being our fucking selves."

The most intentional set he's ever played

Which brings everything back to June 19th, and the question of what a set can actually be.

"This is probably gonna be the most intentional set I've ever played," Phöön says. The plan: only Black electronic artists in the crate. Locals, remixers, old heads, fresh talent, maybe a few of his own. "I can't wait to dive in and explore different avenues. Maybe I'll find music I never even heard before."

The bigger ambition isn't about him at all. "I want people to go on a journey. I know we only get an hour, but I want them to come out like — that wasn't just an ordinary set, that was a proper journey. I want people dancing, having fun, expressing themselves."

It's really not about me. It's about us collectively as a group — really just leaving a great impression on people.

He wants the party remembered. He wants it to be the one people bring up the next time a flyer goes out. And that, more than any single track, is what the Rhythm of Resilience series is chasing — connection built through music, through interviews, through showing up and getting a little better each time.

"There's so much we can do all together," RCA says. "Build, bond through music, learn about each other. I think it's gonna be something people have not experienced before in this capacity."

The night runs 7 to 11 PM at 620 Jones on Juneteenth — an early slot, on purpose, to open the floor for whatever the late night brings.

Phöön's next single, Miami Nights, arrives June 30th. Find him on Instagram, Spotify, and SoundCloud as PHÖÖN Music.

The Rhythm of Resilience artist interview series is hosted by RCA and produced by Acknowledgments®. This conversation has been edited for length and clarity.