Watching Mutlu play is like being in the eye of a hurricane. Seemingly very tranquil and calm on the surface, you can sense a storm brewing deep in those beats that you know is going to break out in pandemonium. And after all that sweet suspense, when the crowd explodes in screams, a little smile breaks across his face and you know that he knows that everyone is exactly where they want to be.
Mutlu isn’t one of those who feel the necessity to constantly contort and undulate behind the turntables while jiggling his hands in the air; he is the perfect picture of serenity. But when a dancer looks toward the dj, as one inevitably will, one notices that his intense focus betrays just how immersed he has become in his music, how occupied he is with the audience and their emotions, and when you look even closer, you see that his reactions reflect the subtle changes of his smooth, funky, house flow like reflections on the surface of a bottomless, unstoppable river of sound. Still waters run deep, but deep basses will not let you be still. Welcome to Berlin’s Turkish Amazon. Don’t even try to stay dry.