What is status anxiety? How does social media negatively affect DJs? How do we find balance? We look at these questions and more with the music industry therapist and DJ Matt Cantor.
Back in 2000, the Buddhist writer and teacher Jack Kornfield published a book whose title could have been describing a challenge DJs face when it comes to mental health: After The Ecstasy, The Laundry. We don’t mean to directly compare spiritual enlightenment with a great DJ set, but both are experiences that stand in stark contrast with the more mundane realities of everyday life. This disparity is one of the many themes that Matt Cantor explores in his role as a music industry psychotherapist. As an artist and DJ himself, Matt draws on a firsthand understanding that helps guide his clients through the often extreme terrain of working as a DJ, performer or music professional.
Matt had enjoyed a long career as a member of the UK breakbeat group Freestylers when he decided that it was time for a change. “Towards my mid-30s, I felt a calling to do something a bit different,” he said. “I found that in my 20s, DJing was the most fun job in the world… I was travelling, seeing lots of things, but I was also burning the candle at both ends. And your star rises and falls. As an artist, that can be difficult.”
As Matt studied towards becoming a therapist, he enjoyed the contrast between DJ gigs and education. “I could do a gig on the weekend,” he said, “and then in the week, I’d be writing essays about attachment theory, doing something completely different. Sitting with a group and having to be very vulnerable. That was a nice balance.”
The word “balance” came up time and again in our recent conversation with Matt. He recognises that DJing can be a volatile profession, and advocates for ways to offset the madness with things like community, self-care, and non-digital experiences. He believes in the power of therapy to help people in music, lending stability to chaotic lifestyles and creating a regular space to share thoughts and experiences. If this sounds like it could be beneficial to you, Matt also shares some basic advice on finding the right therapist and what to expect from the process.
Did you set out to specialise as a music industry therapist?
Yes, pretty much. I was always told by my tutors that it’s good to have a niche and I enjoy working with people from the music industry. I don’t just see people from the music industry, but they make up the majority of my practice. There’s just that shared understanding. For example, if a client tells me that Logic is driving him mad, I know that they are referring to the music software.
As a therapist, is that sort of thing usually useful?
I think it’s useful. I’ve also got to remember that whoever I’m working with, it’s important to stay with their experience.
I think that’s part of my question. It seems like it would be a positive thing, but I imagine there might be some drawbacks as well, like projecting your own experiences onto your clients.
When you’re training you learn to separate your material from your client’s material. So [the shared experiences] do just feel like a positive, as long as I’m aware of that. I think that my clients like the fact I have that background. It helps me to relate.
Does it seem true that there are higher levels of anxiety and depression among musicians and DJs? Is there evidence to support that?
I see that in all my clients, they present that in different ways. As far as that world goes it’s the rhythm of it, the lack of sleep, the late nights, the drink, the drugs. It does lend itself to people struggling with mental health.
I find that people’s sense of self and the whole career-identity thing is what I see across the board, not just in the music industry. It’s high-pressure for a DJ, because it’s very competitive. There is always that fear of slipping.
If you’re working for a company, then you have an HR department and there’s a lot of structure. Whereas with DJing, it’s a bit more like the Wild West, isn’t it? That job security isn’t there. So there is anxiety about how long they will stay at this level and who’s up and coming behind them.
There’s a lot of comparing numbers on social media, looking at follower counts. Social media itself can be a big issue. I often talk to my clients about reducing their use, even though I understand it’s a necessary tool for self-promotion. I suggest they just post what needs to be posted about their gigs without getting caught up in how their contemporaries are doing or obsessing over numbers.
No one’s going to post about their bad gigs, right? So, it always looks like everyone is having the best time, with crowds going wild. I’ve even heard stories of people editing photos, pasting other people’s crowds onto their own gigs.
Status anxiety often comes from comparing yourself to those on the same level or just a step ahead, rather than those at the top. It’s usually that fellow DJ you started out with who’s now getting slightly bigger gigs, or playing better time slots. Those tend to be the bigger triggers.
What kind of journey would you tend to go on with a client when you’re trying to unpack all of this?
It’s really about staying with the client’s experience and figuring out what’s triggering them. Is it constantly checking Instagram? Could they benefit from a digital detox? How much are they obsessing over other DJs, and how does that affect their own experience of DJing?
One of the great things about DJing is being in the moment—feeling present, playing the music, and getting those goosebumps. But when you’re anxious, worrying about who’s playing next, or stuck in your head, it becomes a very different experience.
Self-loathing can creep in, making you wonder why you’re not doing as well as others. When that happens, it’s hard to stay present. Even the music starts to sound off, and you get overly critical of the tracks you’re playing.
I guess this question is for people who might not be familiar with the assumptions and processes of therapy. You’re not necessarily offering direct advice or guidance, but instead, you’re working with the idea that by giving people the time and space to talk about their fears and anxieties, they can reach their own solutions, or at least have the mental space to process things and break out of the loop, right?
Having a consistent space every week is important, especially in a world that can feel very inconsistent. It provides a place to voice narratives, worries, and anxieties. I try not to give direct advice, but I might suggest meditation in your hotel room before a gig if someone is struggling to stay present. There are some great apps for that. If you’re touring, it can be beneficial to get to the gym or explore the city a bit.
When travelling, it’s easy to fall into a routine of just staying in hotel rooms, going to dinners, and attending gigs, which can feel unreal. It can be refreshing to visit an art gallery or experience the local culture—it’s all about self-care.
I’ve noticed that some DJs, especially those further along in their careers, can adopt a business-like attitude toward gigs. They might avoid drinking and drugs, focus solely on the performance, and leave right after. This approach works for some, but it’s crucial to maintain a balance and keep the fun in it.
And then there are those who embrace the after-party scene, wanting to see where the night takes them. It’s quite easy to get carried away when you’ve got a good crowd. It’s a balancing act. Staying present while playing music and connecting with the audience can be a helpful practice. And realising, do you need those shots and drinks to get into it? And what does that mean?
I guess there’s also the wild swings in experience. You have these incredible peak experiences, but they also create ripples of chaos in your life.
One common experience for people in music, not just DJs, is the feeling of life passing them by. They miss important events like their parents’ birthdays, weddings, and gatherings with old friends. When they return, they can feel a bit lost, wondering how to get back into a rhythm.
It’s helpful to maintain friendships and stay in touch with non-music industry people. It’s easy to get caught up in your scene and only hang out with fellow DJs, but it can help you feel more grounded to stay connected to your roots, old friends, and family.
It sounds like you’re advocating for balance. You’re suggesting that social media is OK, but within reason. Yes, have some fun, but know your limits. With these lifestyles, it often feels like there’s a risk of flying too close to the sun, so to speak.
I think the culture has changed a bit. In the ’90s, it was more celebrated to be a “caner.” I remember Muzik magazine even having a “caner of the year” award.
That term was definitely tied to the ’90s and early 2000s model of DJs who were known for partying. It was part of their image.
Absolutely. If a DJ turned up sober, it was a bit disappointing for some fans. They expected to see DJs waving their vinyl in the air. But I can see that changing, which is nice. There are a lot of new perspectives emerging. Plus, many DJs are introverts or introspective individuals, especially those who are very creative. It’s great to see artists being open and vulnerable about their struggles and channelling those experiences into their music. That shift was less prevalent when I was gigging.
What does the conversation around mental health look like now in the DJ world, from your perspective?
I think people are much more open and willing to be vulnerable now. While there are still artists who celebrate the typical party lifestyle, I’ve noticed some who focus more on intimacy and connection. It’s less about big crowds and the superstar DJ persona, which I think is really nice.
Do you think there’s anything missing from the present conversations?
Again, bringing it back to mindfulness and staying in the moment, I believe that’s key to good mental health. The more we check in with ourselves—our breath and our experiences—and pull back from the narratives we tell ourselves, the better our experience becomes. You can integrate this practice into DJing by simply enjoying it for what it is. For example, when you’re having dinner before a gig, focus on enjoying the flavours and the moment. When you’re playing, immerse yourself in the music and the crowd’s energy.
There’s often a tendency to think there’s a problem when it comes to ambition. While ambition can drive us, it can also become an albatross, making us fixate on where we think we should be. We might feel pressure to have the right booking agent or to be performing with certain people.
This mindset can extend to the studio, too; producers often become more creative when they focus on the moment and the energy on the room, rather than trying to create something for a specific purpose. When they get caught up in expectations, the creative process can become contrived, and enjoyment decreases.
Of course, I recognize that the industry is competitive and that this is how people make a living, but it’s about finding that balance between ambition and being present and enjoyment.
If people have never been in therapy before, they might question whether or not they need it; if what they’re feeling goes beyond the normal knocks of everyday experience. How should people decide if it is worth seeking help for their mental health?
I think everyone can benefit from therapy. You don’t have to be in crisis to seek help; self-reflection is always valuable. Having that space once a week to unpack what’s been happening and explore whatever you want is a unique dynamic. Although It can be particularly helpful if you’re struggling, feeling flat, or if the joy has gone out of your gigs, or if anxiety has become unmanageable. In those cases, therapy can be a great first step.
Quantifying therapy can be challenging. However, in my experience, having that consistent space for self-reflection—especially when you’re travelling and DJing a lot—can be incredibly beneficial. It’s like getting off the steam train once a week, allowing you to sort through your thoughts and feelings. Over time, you can begin to figure out what you truly need.
Traditionally, we might think of therapy in terms of a ‘shrink’ model, where you only go if you’re experiencing significant psychological distress. But it sounds like you’re framing it as something beneficial for anyone—a regular opportunity for self-expression, empathy, and reflection in a supportive relationship.
Have you noticed any of the stigma that’s traditionally hovered around therapy falling away during your time in the field?
I think there’s less stigma in the music industry compared to some other professions, like working in a corporate environment. From my experience, I don’t see as much stigma around therapy anymore. In more cutthroat fields, like working in finance, there might be a perception that seeking help is a sign of weakness.
I was thinking about the social media side of things, where there seems to be a value placed on vulnerability and perceived authenticity. People can build followings by sharing their struggles, but this often unfolds against the backdrop of platforms that can themselves cause considerable mental anguish.
Exactly. It creates a bit of a conundrum. You’re sharing on a platform that may actually contribute to your mental health struggles.
Is social media a common topic you cover with clients?
I would say it is. Status anxiety is one aspect, and then you have Instagram with all the comparisons. Plus, WhatsApp makes it much more difficult to set boundaries. There’s this sense that you can never really get away from work. That constant feeling of being on and always checking in can lead to anxiety. If you don’t respond right away, it feels like you’re not working or you don’t care, which adds to the stress.
I suppose many of these mental health issues are interconnected, especially when we consider the music industry. It’s very much an ecosystem, isn’t it? You have social media, smartphone usage, and then there’s the impact of general well-being, like nutrition, exercise, sleep and daylight.
Thinking again about staying in the moment, phones often do the opposite—they pull you out of the present. Whether it’s scrolling through news feeds or social media, they make it harder for people to stay grounded. In fact, some local schools near me are starting to ban iPhones, which I think is great.
Is there anything we could say about how DJs and people in the music industry might form support networks based on talking and sharing? With everything we’ve discussed about the importance of having spaces to express feelings, it seems like these connections could be a tool in someone’s mental health toolkit.
I mean, it’s always good to talk. It’s important to connect with people who are having similar experiences. DJs can be supportive of one another, and I think that’s great. Additionally, having support networks outside of music and DJing—whatever that looks like—is helpful. It’s interesting how some people can leave us feeling drained, while others can uplift us. Being aware of the effects different people have on us is really important. Understanding who feels nurturing and who doesn’t can be incredibly helpful, as it allows us to recognize how different interactions affect us
What about the actual process of finding a therapist? From personal experience, that can feel like a bit of a barrier to entry. There’s often a sense of overwhelm—how do I even begin to pick someone? I was wondering if you have any thoughts or advice.
If you can have a 10-minute conversation with a therapist, then do that, just to get a feel of what they’re like and whether you feel a good connection with them. There’s nothing wrong with seeing a few therapists for initial sessions and just seeing who you get the most connected feeling with.
You might want to think about what gender or identity might work for you? Or does that even matter? For example, if you’ve got a lot of stuff to work through about your mother, it could be beneficial to find an older woman as your therapist, as that might bring more of that material up. Or, do you want to speak to somebody who might understand your life experience better? That’s why having a therapist who understands the music industry, like the group that Tamsin Embleton set up, the Music Industry Therapist Collective, works well. It’s a good pool of professionals who have that understanding.
Could you tell us a little bit about the group?
Well, it’s a group that Tamsin set up around six years ago. It’s a group of like-minded therapists with a music industry background. We have monthly meetings, and some of the members run workshops. We think about different ways we can contribute to the conversation around mental health in the music industry. Tamsin has written a book which is a great touring manual for mental health.
This can be an overwhelming area, but if we break it down to the benefits of seeing someone, I think just getting in a room with a therapist and seeing what comes up is crucial. It’s important not to be too fixed on how things will go. I genuinely believe this process can really help people grow, and I’ve seen it happen time and time again.
Take a look at some local therapists, read their profile to get a sense of their style, and see if any resonate with you. If possible, have quick conversation with a few of them to gauge how you feel. Ask yourself: “How do I feel talking to this person? Is this someone I can open up to? Do they seem like they would understand me?”
It’s really about starting to connect with someone without getting too caught up in where to begin or whether there’s a specific issue to tackle first.
Yes, it’s a question of chemistry.
It really is. All the studies tend to point to the fact that it’s not so important what model you’re using—whether it’s CBT, psychodynamic psychotherapy or existential psychotherapy. What really matters is the relationship with the therapist. That’s where the work happens. It always seems to come back to that, and I think that’s the best place to start.
I was about to ask: which model do you work with?
It’s integrative. So I’m trained in a lot of different modalities. It’s a bit like being a multi-genre DJ. I might start off with a little bit of downtempo and end with some drum & bass [laughs].
