Man, the DJ Mag Top 100 DJs thing is such a load of twoddle. Every year they Tiesto my patience. Every year, they never Guetta idea. This is not Aoki. I mean, Avi-please, do they think they’re gonna get away with it? It just gives these untalented hacks a reason to blow their Timmy Trumpet and demand even higher fees. It’s enough to drive a girl to be a Chainsmoker. (Marshmellos would probably be better for the health though).

Maybe DJ Mag are just a week early for twick or Tweekaz? Maybe they started their Halloween early. There’s even a Wolfpack, and a Jack-U-lantern. I have an Axewell to grind, I’m on a proper rage roll now. Ain’t no stopping the Carnage. I never did claim to be an Angello (what happens in Vegas, stays in Dimitri Vegas…wait). But seriously, it makes me so Nervo when I look at this list. It’s drowned in those who care more about Firebeatz, Bassjack-ing and Showtek-ship than actual quality music. Do Headhunterz go out and find the most obnoxious, drunk Romero at a bar and say “Prepare thy Angerfist, we offer you Radical Redemption”?

Well, I say call the Porter. Ready the Ferry. It’s time we snatch back this list from the Jauz of the money Snake. From the vaults of Lost Stories. Nothing will change Alesso we all work together, and change it Alok. I think it’s time we go Above & Beyond and send the list to R3hab. It’s time we celebrate those artists who make us feel like we could Swoon with the beautiful music Feels.

When that’s done? We could celebrate with some Major Lazers? Some Swanky Tunes? Daddy might even get his Groove back… too far? A little Ingrosso? Do you need to swallow your Borgore back down? Perhaps it’s just my way with words. My fun with puns. But two can play this name game, babe.