There’s a particular kind of quiet that isn’t quiet at all, the noise inside your own head when everything outside has gone still. That’s the space Jono Stephenson built his new EP around. Control Your Mind, out now on his own label Void of Reason, doesn’t so much play as it closes in on you. Dark, cinematic, looping like a thought you can’t quite put down.
It arrives at a moment he describes almost like weather, things happening around him, and the slow realization that the real work was never in stopping the storm, just in deciding how much of it he let inside. That tension between what you can control and what you can only survive runs through the whole record.
We spoke with him about the EP, what it’s meant to build a label from scratch, the long way from South Africa to Los Angeles, and why he still isn’t ready to let a machine anywhere near the parts of music that are supposed to feel human.
Your new EP “Control Your Mind” is out now. It has a very dark, cinematic tone, what was the initial spark for the track and what’s the story behind it?
The initial spark for “Control Your Mind” came from this idea of how much of our reality is shaped by what we allow into our heads – fear, obsession, outside noise, even our own thoughts. I wanted the track to feel like that internal battle between losing control and trying to take it back.
Musically, I was drawn to creating something that felt dark and cinematic, but still had a strong emotional pull. The tension, the atmosphere and the repetition are all meant to feel almost hypnotic, like you’re being pulled deeper into your own mind. That became the foundation for the EP as a whole – exploring that space between control, chaos and self-awareness.
There’s a mention about the push and pull between chaos and control in this release, is that concept drawn from something personal, or more of an observed feeling?
It definitely comes from a personal place, but I think it’s also something that’s quite universal. I’ve had periods where there’s been a lot happening around me, and the real challenge wasn’t necessarily the chaos itself, but how much control I allowed it to have over my headspace.
That became quite central to the record – the idea that control isn’t always about controlling what’s happening around you, but controlling how you react to it. There’s constantly that push and pull between instinct and restraint, clarity and noise, and I wanted the music to live somewhere inside that tension.
You released the EP on Void of Reason, which is your own label. Did that change how you approached the creative or release process at all?
Definitely. Releasing it through Void of Reason gave me a different level of freedom because I wasn’t thinking about how the music needed to fit into somebody else’s world. I could approach the entire track as one complete idea – the music, the artwork, the sequencing and the way it was presented.
At the same time, having your own label makes you much more aware of every decision. You’re not only the artist anymore; you’re also thinking about how the record is positioned, how it’s communicated and what it represents long term.
What pushed you to start the label and what can we expect from it in the near future?
Void of Reason really came from wanting to create a space where I could build a world around the music, rather than treating every release as a separate moment. I wanted somewhere that could reflect the darker, more cinematic side of what I’m making, but also give me the freedom to develop that identity over time without having to constantly adapt it to somebody else’s vision.
For me, the label is bigger than just having a platform to release my own records. The long-term idea is to build something with a very clear aesthetic and musical identity, and eventually use it as a home for other artists who connect with that same world.
In the near future, there’ll definitely be more music from me through Void of Reason, but I also want to keep developing the visual language and the overall universe around the label. I’m not in a rush to force it into becoming something huge overnight – I’d rather build it carefully and make sure every release feels like it belongs there.
What have been the biggest lessons so far in running a label versus just being an artist on one?
The biggest lesson has probably been realizing how much happens around the music itself. As an artist, you can become very focused on making the record and getting it to a point where you’re happy with it. When you’re running the label as well, you start thinking much further ahead – timing, artwork, distribution, marketing, how each release fits into the bigger picture and what you’re actually building over time.
It’s also taught me a lot about patience. Not every decision needs to be made quickly, and not every record needs to come out the moment it’s finished. Sometimes giving something more time, or waiting for the right context around it, can make a huge difference.
I think the other big shift is responsibility. When you’re signed to somebody else’s label, there are things you naturally hand over. With your own label, every detail comes back to you, which can be challenging, but it also makes the process much more rewarding because you understand exactly why every decision is being made.
Take us back to the beginning, what first drew you into producing and DJing, and was there a moment you realized this could be a career?
Music was always around me growing up in South Africa. My mother sang and played guitar and piano, so there was a musical foundation there long before I ever thought about producing or DJing professionally.
When I eventually discovered production, that was the part that really pulled me in. I became obsessed with the idea that you could start with nothing and build an entire world from sound. DJing came very naturally alongside that, because suddenly I could take the music I was making and experience it in a completely different way through a room full of people.
I don’t think there was one single moment where I decided, “this is my career.” It happened progressively through passion and a lot of blood sweat and tears. Records started getting signed, people I respected began supporting the music, and opportunities to play started becoming more serious. At a certain point it stopped feeling like something I was trying to make happen and started feeling like something that was actually happening.
Moving to Los Angeles in 2023 was probably the moment I fully committed to it. That was me saying to myself that I was going to give this everything and see how far I could take it.
Tell us about where you grew up and where you are based now. Did the local scene shape your identity as an artist, and do you still feel connected to it now that you’re playing internationally?
I grew up in South Africa and I’m based in Los Angeles now, so there’s quite a big contrast between where I started and where I am today.
Growing up in South Africa definitely shaped me, even if I didn’t fully understand how much at the time. There’s such a strong relationship with rhythm, atmosphere and music there, and I think some of that naturally found its way into how I approach records. At the same time, I was always drawn to music that felt cinematic and transportive, so my identity became this combination of where I came from and the sounds I was discovering from outside of it.
Moving to Los Angeles opened up a completely different side of the industry for me. You’re surrounded by artists, labels, writers and people working across every part of music, so it pushed me to think much bigger about what the project could become.
But I still feel very connected to South Africa. When you start travelling and playing internationally, where you come from becomes even more important in a way. It gives you a point of view. I never want the music to feel like it could have come from absolutely anywhere – there should always be something personal underneath it.
Beyond music, you’re known for pulling from fashion, street art, architecture and film. How do those other creative worlds feed into your sound?
I think all of those worlds feed into the same part of my brain. I’m constantly drawn to things that have a strong sense of atmosphere — whether that’s a piece of architecture, a film, a photograph, something in fashion or even a certain texture in street art.
A lot of the time, I’m not consciously trying to translate those things into music, but they influence the way I think about space, tension, contrast and mood. I might see a brutalist building or a scene in a film and immediately think about what that would sound like rather than what it looks like.
AI is a growing topic in music production and even performance. What’s your honest take on where it fits, or doesn’t, in an art form you’ve built around analog authenticity?
I’m not against AI entirely. I think at least for some it’s become another tool in the same way that software, sampling and digital production did. If it helps you explore an idea faster, find something unexpected or remove some of the more technical friction from the process, I think that can be really interesting.
Where I become less interested is when the tool starts replacing the reason the music exists in the first place. For me, the imperfections, the decisions, the accidents and even the struggle involved in making something are often what give it character. You can generate something that sounds technically perfect, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it has anything to say.
I think the important question is always: who is making the decisions? If AI is serving the artist’s vision, I see a certain value in it. If the artist becomes secondary to technology, then you start losing the thing I’m most drawn to about music, which is the humanity in it.
So I’ll experiment with it, but I never want efficiency to become more important than authenticity.
Looking ahead to 2026, what are you most excited about and would like to share with us?
For the rest of 2026, I’m probably most excited about continuing to expand the world around the project. There’s a lot of new music coming, but I’m becoming much more interested in how everything connects – the records, the visuals, the live experience and what we’re building with Void of Reason.
I’ve spent the last few years really defining what I want Jono Stephenson to represent, and I feel like I’m entering a chapter now where that identity is becoming much clearer. There are some larger creative ideas I’ve been developing behind the scenes that go beyond individual releases, and I’m excited to start revealing more of that.
There’ll also be more touring and some collaborations I’m really looking forward to, but I think the biggest thing for me is progression. I don’t want to keep repeating what I’ve already done. I want each chapter to feel like we’re opening the door to something slightly bigger, stranger and more immersive than the last.