The Jersey Club Sound of DJ Mike Gip

Photo courtesy of Mike Gip.

Jersey Club music doesn’t leave room for silence — it’s loud, fast and energetic. But DJ Mike Gip, one of its originators, isn’t any of those things at first glance. He’s calm, quiet, and the kind of person who does not like to stand out. And yet, when he touches a track, you would never know.

From Long Branch, New Jersey, Gip’s path into music was never just about sound — it was also about survival and coming to himself. He has played many roles: producer, DJ, student, and storyteller. All of them bleed into the sound he’s known for today. “I've always been like a little shy kid, for real,” Gip said. “But until I grew up, I’m just like, alright, this is just me. I’m just laid back.” His music, though, tells a louder story.

Long Branch was complicated. “People think just because there’s a beach that things are sweet,” Gip said. “But the side I grew up on ... it was kind of messy.” He describes it as an environment where drugs and crime were part of everyday life, and where music became a kind of shelter.

He was introduced to club music early on, drawn first to Baltimore’s sound, then Jersey’s. “I used to listen to Baltimore Club, and I was always fascinated by the sound. Then when I realized we had our own style in Jersey, I was like, I want to take a shot at this,” Gip said.

A college prep program at Rutgers helped lay the foundation. “From 14 to 17, I was in this program. That’s when I met a guy from Plainfield, P. He got me into the culture for real, for real.” By 15, he was making club beats on his own.

Gip talks about music in a technical way. “It’s all science and math, honestly,” Gip said. “Tempo, BPM — it’s like counting your heart rate.” Whether producing or DJing, he’s thinking about how sound moves — how it blends, bounces, or hits too hard. “Some sounds, I’m like, damn, this might hurt someone’s ear. So I gotta take that out.” It’s a constant process of layering and leveling.

And while club music is known for being in-your-face, Gip’s vibe is the opposite. “People always say I’m too laid back,” Gip said. “But that’s just me. When I’m performing, I’m bringing people into my world, but we’re still gonna turn up.”

Even when he was in prison, Gip never stopped creating. “We had tablets in state prison,” Gip said. “And I had this production app that allowed me to maintain my creativity while I was in jail.”

He spent 11 years in jail, a period that he said could’ve killed the momentum he built in his teens. Instead, it gave him space to dig deeper. “It gave me a chance to really sit down and find out who I am — behind the music, with the music, just all around.”

Photo courtesy of Mike Gip.

Gip’s debut single, “The Book of Eli,” is a tribute to his brother Elijah, who was murdered in 2023. “Blood couldn’t make us closer,” Gip said. “He laid out the blueprint for me to write that song — even if he didn’t realize it.” That track became a turning point for the artist.

Gip’s commitment to Jersey Club is personal but also political. As the sound spreads nationally, he’s been intentional about crediting its roots. “If it wasn’t for Jersey and our culture, then what would there be?” Gip said. “I feel like a gatekeeper… I’m trying to make sure we receive our flowers.”

He’s seen firsthand how the culture is co-opted: producers outside Jersey taking the sound, benefitting from it, and leaving its creators behind. “They try to say we don’t know the business — and yeah, a lot of us didn’t. I had to bump my head a lot to learn it.

There has been talk of a tour — nothing confirmed yet — but Gip is focused on finishing a new project called Go Home. It’s layered: the name comes from the phrase people told him when he was released, and from his own handle, @gohomegip. “January 6th, I left prison,” Gip said. “So it’s like — I’m home. Now what’s next?”

He’s stepping into the artist role more intentionally now, balancing club music with more introspective material. “I’m still a DJ. I still produce. But now I do everything. I just take one hat off and put another on.”

Today, there’s a calm in the way Gip moves through the world. In a genre that doesn’t stop moving, Gip’s power is in his stillness, continuing to express himself authentically through music. When he needs to reset, he walks to the beach, five blocks from his house, and breathes. “I didn’t do that before,” Gip said. “Now I stop and smell the roses.”