Born in Chile and based in Montreal, DJ and producer César Romero’s artistic project, Simply City, will mark 16 years under the name in 2026. His story stretches back more than three decades, from early club culture in Santiago to a 14-year residency at Stereo Montreal, where patience, musical storytelling, and trust with the dancefloor became central to his approach.
Photo credit: Courtesy of Simply City
Before Simply City, Romero performed as César “Bass” Romero in Chile. His path later took him across the Americas and into Montreal, where his residency at Stereo and long friendship with Hernan Cattaneo became defining parts of his life in music.
He has also found a close musical community at Balance Croatia, while continuing to think deeply about the role of resident DJs, opening sets, mentorship, and the pressures surrounding visibility in electronic music.
In conversation with EG, Simply City reflects on the 16-year milestone, the values he refuses to compromise, the people who shaped him, and a new record label he is building with a small team.
EG: Hi César, welcome to Electronic Groove. It is a pleasure to have you with us. How are you, where are you joining us from today, and how does it feel to look back on 16 years of Simply City?
Simply City: First of all, thank you so much for having me. It’s super nice to have this opportunity. I’m doing excellent, thanks, joining today from Santiago, Chile, spending a few days visiting my mom, sister, and nieces before I jump over to a country dear to my heart, Argentina, where I am starting an amazing new tour.
Looking back on 16 years of this project called Simply City is quite emotional, to be honest. It was a time when I wanted to leave my previous artistic identity behind and start something new. I had a vision of what I wanted to express musically, but absolutely no idea where that decision would take me. Not everyone understood it at the time, but I trusted my gut and followed my heart. All these years later, I feel incredibly grateful. I’ve had the privilege of sharing music with people I once looked up to from afar, playing in places I never imagined, and building friendships that mean much more to me than any gig or achievement. And through all of this, we’ve been building a family and a life together, which makes the journey even more meaningful. I’ve worn many hats to achieve all this.
EG: You mentioned trusting your gut when you left your previous artistic identity behind. Before Simply City, there was César “Bass” Romero in Chile. What do you remember about those first encounters with electronic music, and what from those years still remains part of the DJ you are today?
Simply City: Those early years in Chile were very special to me. I started DJing around 13, when discovering music required real effort. No internet, no social media, just curiosity and whatever records you could get your hands on. During the dictatorship, access to foreign music was quite limited, but things gradually opened up. Later, I remember saving every penny to travel to Miami, Boston, and New York, spending countless hours and most of my money digging through record stores. That taught me to really appreciate music and the effort behind finding it. As César “Bass” Romero, I was young, curious, and always drawn to melodies and emotion, something that wasn’t necessarily predominant in Chile’s electronic scene, which leaned more toward techno and minimal sounds. I was the kid obsessed with music and dancing while most of my friends were into sports.
What fascinated me was the possibility of telling stories through records and connecting with people without saying a word. Back then, becoming a professional DJ wasn’t even on my mind. I simply loved music. And honestly, that hasn’t changed much. I still get goosebumps discovering a beautiful record. My taste has evolved, but my approach remains the same: respect the music, understand the dancefloor, take risks, and let the music breathe. Deep down, I’m still that kid from Santiago.
EG: That curiosity eventually carried you far beyond Santiago. Montreal became a major chapter in your life, eventually leading to more than a decade as a resident at Stereo. What has that journey taught you about patience, reading a room, and building a relationship with a crowd?
Simply City: Montreal has given me so much, both personally and musically. It’s a city with an incredible underground heritage, deeply connected to the Northeastern North American electronic music circuit, alongside cities like New York, Toronto, and Boston. From the early rave movement to its legendary afterhours culture and major festivals, Montreal has always had a special relationship with electronic music, and I feel fortunate to have been part of that history.
From playing indoor raves for 25,000 people to being a resident at Stereo for the past 14 years, I’ve experienced so many different sides of this city’s scene. Stereo, in particular, has been one of the greatest privileges of my career. It’s a very special place with a knowledgeable crowd that genuinely comes for the music, and believe me, I’m still learning every time I step into that booth. If there’s one thing those years have taught me, it’s patience.
At Stereo, time is your friend. There’s no need to impress anyone in the first 15 minutes or rush toward the biggest records. You can let the music breathe, build a story, and allow the night to unfold naturally. You learn to read the room, pay attention to the smallest reactions, and understand that sometimes the most meaningful moments happen when you least expect them. Over the years, I’ve also learned that every crowd is different, even in the same club. You can never take anything for granted or assume that what worked last time will work again. That keeps you humble, curious, and constantly learning.
Ultimately, I believe a lasting relationship with a crowd comes from consistency, honesty, and trust. It’s not about chasing reactions every five minutes but about creating an experience that feels genuine. When people trust your musical judgment, they’re willing to follow you into unfamiliar territory, and that’s one of the most beautiful and rewarding things about being a DJ, especially as a resident DJ who can hold a long and steady residency as I have.
EG: You talk about patience, trust, and letting the night unfold naturally. Those ideas seem especially relevant to opening sets, which have become an important part of your identity. You have opened for artists such as Hernan Cattaneo, Danny Tenaglia, Nick Warren, Dave Seaman, Anthony Pappa, and John Digweed. What makes the opening set such a special craft for you?
Simply City: I’ve always had a particular love for opening sets. To me, it’s one of the most beautiful and underrated arts of DJing and, unfortunately, I feel we’re slowly losing it in a time when everyone seems more interested in headlining or playing all-night sets.
An opening set isn’t about proving how good you are or showing everything you’ve got. It’s about understanding your role in the bigger picture. You’re setting the foundation for the entire night, creating an atmosphere, building anticipation, and preparing the dancefloor for what’s coming next. It takes patience, experience, musical knowledge, and above all, humility. Sometimes knowing what not to play is just as important as knowing what to play.
I also believe opening sets are essential for keeping our local scenes healthy. They give local DJs the opportunity to develop their craft, to be discovered, and to earn recognition through their music. That’s how I earned respect from the big players. We need to protect those opportunities, especially for the next generations, and when I say we, I mean all of us, from clubs to promoters and DJs with the power to request a local DJ to open for them.
Having artists like Hernan, Danny, Nick, Dave, Anthony, John, and others trusting me with that responsibility is something I’m incredibly grateful for. I’ve learned so much from those experiences, and I never take that trust lightly. There’s something very rewarding about starting with an almost empty room and slowly watching it come alive, one record at a time. You don’t need to be the center of attention to make a meaningful contribution to the night.
For me, a great opening set isn’t about making people remember who opened. It’s about making them remember how the entire night felt. And, to be honest, what I love most about doing opening sets is the reaction when the main DJ arrives: how everybody is excited, the volume goes up a few dBs, smiles are all over the place, the tempo increases, and voilà, you have a hell of a night.
“A great opening set isn’t about making people remember who opened. It’s about making them remember how the entire night felt”
EG: That idea of trust also runs through your long friendship and musical connection with Hernan Cattaneo. What have you learned from that relationship, both musically and personally?
Simply City: Hernan has been an important part of my journey, not only as an artist but as an incredible friend. I’ve always admired his dedication to music, his consistency, and the way he’s remained true to himself throughout such a remarkable career. But what means even more to me is the person behind the artist. Despite his incredibly busy schedule, if I need him, he’ll find the time to pick up the phone. That says a lot about the kind of person he is.
I first discovered Hernan in the late ’90s when I started travelling to Buenos Aires to explore its clubbing scene, searching for the melodies I wasn’t finding back home in Chile. I remember dancing at Pacha Buenos Aires, listening to this guy play without the slightest idea that years later we’d be sharing DJ booths, productions, conversations, advice, and so many laughs. Life has a funny way of bringing things full circle.
Musically, I’ve learned a great deal from him, especially about patience, storytelling, and staying true to your musical identity. He’s living proof that longevity doesn’t come from chasing trends but from remaining curious, consistent, serious, humble, and genuinely passionate about what you do.
Personally, what I admire most is his humility and generosity. A perfect example is our annual Sudbeat 24-hour marathons at Stereo. There we are, Hernan, Graziano, myself, our guest DJs, and friends, playing music for hours like a bunch of kids having fun in someone’s living room and sharing something we all love. And despite everything Hernan has accomplished, you realize that he’s simply one of us. I think that’s the greatest lesson I’ve taken from our friendship. No matter how far music takes you, never lose the joy that brought you there in the first place, and never forget to be a good human being along the way.
EG: You describe those Sudbeat marathons almost like a family gathering. That sense of community also seems present in Balance Croatia. What did playing there give you that felt different from a regular club or festival experience?
Simply City: Balance Croatia has been a very special experience for me, and what impressed me most was the sense of community from day one. I genuinely believe the festival has filled a void our scene needed. We jokingly call it the Progressive House Olympics!
It feels less like a traditional festival and more like a big reunion of people from all over the world who share a genuine love for this music. The organization is fantastic, and the whole place feels like a playground for music lovers. Artists, promoters, and fans come together, not because of hype or trends, but because of a sound and culture they’ve supported for decades. Another thing I really appreciate is that the festival doesn’t seem interested in packing as many people as possible into the venue. I’ve seen videos of other events at the same location that looked extremely overcrowded, and honestly, that’s not my idea of a good festival experience. Balance gets that balance right, no pun intended (laughter)!
What makes it even more beautiful is the diversity. People from different countries, cultures, races, religions, sexual orientations, and walks of life come together as one, connected by music. It reminds me of what Stereo feels like inside. There are no barriers between artists and the crowd either. You can finish your set, grab a drink, have a conversation, and end up dancing next to the same people who were listening to you an hour earlier. That human connection is priceless to me.
Playing at the Pier Stage in Tisno in 2025, and later at the Beach Stage, both on opening days, was an incredible experience. The audience is genuinely knowledgeable and passionate. They know the artists, they understand the music, and they’re there to listen. That gives you the freedom to take risks, play something unexpected, and feel that connection coming right back from the dancefloor.
But beyond the music, what stays with me are the friendships, the conversations, and the wonderful people behind the festival. The entire Balance team has created something truly special, and I’ll always be grateful that they believed in me from the beginning, after I sent a simple email asking if I could be part of it. Sometimes you just have to knock on the door, right?
EG: Across all those chapters, after 16 years of Simply City and more than three decades behind the decks, what matters more to you today than it did when you started, and what matters less?
Simply City: Today, what matters most to me is authenticity, artistic freedom, meaningful relationships, and being able to contribute something positive to the next generation. I’ve come to appreciate the people behind the music just as much as the music itself. I care more about leaving something meaningful behind than collecting achievements.
What matters less? Recognition, numbers, trends, egos, and the constant need for validation. When you’re young, you naturally want to prove yourself, and there’s nothing wrong with ambition. But with time, you realize that none of those things define your worth as an artist.
I believe our scene needs less noise and more substance. Less ego and more humility. Less manufactured hype and more originality. Less overnight fame and more respect for the journey. Less competition and more genuine support for one another.
These days, I’m much more interested in making good music, supporting new talent, passing on what I’ve learned, and enjoying the journey with the people I love.
Less about being somebody, more about doing something that matters. And above all, letting the music do the talking.
“Less about being somebody, more about doing something that matters. And above all, letting the music do the talking”
EG: You say you now care less about recognition, numbers, trends, and validation. Electronic music today still places a lot of attention on visibility, numbers, and constant validation. How do you keep your relationship with music grounded when so much attention is placed on everything surrounding it?
Simply City: I try to remind myself why I started doing this in the first place. When I was 13, I wasn’t thinking about followers, algorithms, or recognition. I was simply a kid fascinated by music, and I still try to approach it with that same curiosity and excitement.
Of course, I understand that visibility and social media are part of the industry today, and we can’t completely ignore them. But I think we’ve reached a point where sometimes the promotion gets more attention than the actual music. That’s something I find a little concerning, especially for younger artists who might feel that being noticed is more important than developing their craft.
For me, staying grounded comes from having a life beyond DJing: my family, my friends, and people who couldn’t care less how many followers I have! It also comes from constantly discovering music, challenging my own taste, and remembering that there’s always something new to learn.
I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting success. The question is what you’re willing to sacrifice to get there. Personally, I’d rather build something meaningful over time than chase attention that disappears tomorrow.
At the end of the day, the music should be the reason people know you, not the other way around.
EG: That perspective also shapes how you talk about younger artists. You have spoken about the responsibility experienced DJs have to pass knowledge and values to younger generations. What do you feel younger artists should understand about the craft that cannot be learned through social media or promotion?
Simply City: I think the most important thing younger artists need to understand is that being a DJ is much more than playing records or building a following. It’s a craft that takes time, patience, dedication, and a genuine love for music. You can’t learn how to read a room, build a musical story, or connect with a dancefloor through Instagram. Those things come from experience, making mistakes, listening, and constantly challenging yourself.
I also believe we have a responsibility to pass on the values that helped build this scene. Respect for the music, for those who came before us, for fellow artists, promoters, and especially the audience. Humility is essential. Nobody is bigger than the music, no matter how successful they become.
Another important lesson is understanding that not everyone starts with the same opportunities. Some artists have powerful management, agencies, marketing teams, and big industry machines behind them. Others have to build everything themselves, one small step at a time. And that’s perfectly fine. Your journey might be harder, recognition might take longer, and sometimes it can feel unfair. This career isn’t all roses and rainbows, and young artists need to be prepared for that reality without becoming discouraged or bitter.
I’m living
