The news of Juan Atkins’ passing takes us back to the early days of our relationship with electronic music. One particular memory leads to 1992, to a record store in a small Venezuelan beach town, where one of us discovered techno almost by accident while visiting with his father. At the time, those unfamiliar sounds seemed to come from Germany or the United Kingdom. It took years to understand that their roots led somewhere else, to Detroit, where a generation of young Black artists was creating something that would eventually reach every corner of the world. For someone who belongs to a minority group, that discovery carried a deeply personal meaning. It changed the way the music was understood, revealing a story about creativity, identity, and the extraordinary possibilities that emerge when people believe in their own ideas.
Photo: Juan Atkins Official
Juan Atkins was at the heart of that story. Through Cybotron, Model 500, and his Metroplex label, he helped establish the foundations of techno, drawing from funk, electronic experimentation, and a fascination with the future. Alongside Derrick May and Kevin Saunderson, he helped shape a movement whose influence would extend far beyond Detroit. What makes his contribution so remarkable is not simply the records he created, but the imagination behind them. These were young artists experimenting with machines and ideas, without the enormous festivals, international audiences, or established industry that surrounds electronic music today. They were making something because they believed in it, without knowing how far it might travel. Decades later, millions of people continue to find meaning in that music, many without fully knowing the history behind it.
A visit to Movement in Detroit years later gave that history a different meaning. Being in the city where so much of this began brought the music closer to the people and communities who created it. It was a reminder that electronic music is more than a collection of records, genres, or events. It carries the experiences, ambitions, and identities of those who came before us. As the music traveled, it became part of other people’s lives, including ours, eventually influencing the paths we chose and the work we do today. At Electronic Groove, we have spent years documenting artists and connecting people through a culture that continues to give us so much. But Juan’s passing has made us reflect on something we believe deserves far more attention: how much do we really know about the people who made all of this possible?
“How much do we really know about the people who made all of this possible?”
We live in a culture that moves incredibly fast. Every week brings new releases, new artists, new festivals, and new conversations about what comes next. There is always something demanding our attention, and sometimes we become so focused on the present that we forget to acknowledge the people who built the foundations beneath it. The tributes following Juan’s passing have been moving, particularly the memories shared by artists whose careers and lives he helped shape. They remind us that his contribution went beyond the music itself. He inspired others, shared knowledge, and helped open doors for generations that followed. Yet those tributes also raise a question we should be asking more often: why do we sometimes wait until someone is gone to fully express what they mean to us?
For the past couple of months, we have been developing a series intended to recognize the pioneers and influential figures whose work has shaped electronic music. Juan was among the people we hoped to speak with. We wanted to hear his reflections, understand how he viewed the culture he helped create, and learn what he believed younger generations should know about its beginnings. Unfortunately, that conversation will never happen.
One of us remembers his mother-in-law often saying that her father should record the stories of his life. He felt the same about his own grandmother. It was a simple idea, but one that becomes more meaningful with time. When someone is gone, we don’t necessarily forget their stories, but we begin to lose the details. The things they said in passing, the memories we never thought to ask about, the experiences that existed only in their minds. Something similar happens with music. Beyond the loss of an extraordinary artist, we lose a living connection to a part of our history. Recordings and archives can preserve the work, but not always the thoughts, memories, and personal experiences behind it. Juan’s passing is a reminder that these conversations cannot be postponed indefinitely.
This responsibility extends beyond Juan and the most recognizable names in electronic music. There are countless producers, DJs, radio hosts, record store owners, promoters, and independent label founders whose contributions helped build the culture we enjoy today. Some have received the recognition they deserve, while others remain relatively unknown. We also need to acknowledge the communities from which this music emerged, particularly the Black artists who established the foundations of techno and house, and whose cultural contributions have not always received equal recognition as the music became a global industry. Understanding those origins does not diminish what came afterward. It makes the story richer, more honest, and more meaningful. As a publication, we believe we have a responsibility to help preserve these histories, encourage curiosity, and introduce new generations to the people behind the records they love. That responsibility belongs to all of us who benefit from this culture.
“We owe them our curiosity, our gratitude, and the effort to keep their stories alive”
We keep returning to that record store in Venezuela, to a moment when music crossed thousands of miles and reached someone who had no idea how much it would eventually shape his life. Somewhere today, another person may be experiencing something similar, discovering a record that will stay with them for decades. That is the remarkable power of what Juan Atkins and his contemporaries created. Their ideas traveled across borders, generations, and cultures, connecting people who might otherwise have had very little in common. We owe them more than admiration after they are gone. We owe them our curiosity, our gratitude, and the effort to keep their stories alive. Time is passing, and we cannot assume there will always be another opportunity to have these conversations.
We should celebrate the art, recognize the people behind it, listen to their stories, and let them know how much their work has meant to us while we still have the chance. At Electronic Groove, we want to give these stories the attention they deserve, creating space for conversations that preserve not only the music, but the experiences and memories of those who made it.
Rest in power, Juan. Thank you for the music, the vision, and for showing us how far an idea can travel.