mredrollo

Some say mredrollo doesn’t produce music, he channels it from ancient celestial archives buried deep in the 7th astral plane. Others say he simply opens his laptop, hit’s play and lets Rick Rubin do the rest. What we do know is that when his tracks hit, timelines fracture, chakras realign and crowds achieve spontaneous enlightenment somewhere between the second drop and the matcha tea station. With grooves hand-carved from Saturn’s inner rings and melodies whispered to him during deep REM sleep, mredrollo’s sound isn’t just music, it’s an initiation ritual. He’s been described as “a cosmic pearl hidden deep in the sea,” “the messiah of melodic house,” and “that guy whose set made me cry and text my ex.” His mixes don’t transition, they teleport. His drops don’t hit, they